Wednesday, March 6, 2013

End the Word. Please.


Dude, that is so retarded.

Do you ever say this, think it, hear others laugh as they chide their friends with it?

To those who occasionally say something or someone is retarded, I implore you to make a change to your vocabulary. “Retard” and “retarded” are never, ever used as compliments. These words were long ago hijacked from medical use and have since taken up what seems to be permanent residence on the playground, in our schools, in our homes. We have grown up with it and indifferently passed it on to our children because it doesn't carry the significant weight that other slurs now do. What's the difference? This is a population of people who most times cannot fight back. To realize the pain they and their families experience as a result of hearing these words and to continue to use them is the most cowardly form of bullying. You will still hear jokes like, "I can count to potato." Am I supposed to be amused? If this makes you laugh, please consider your place in this world. And please understand that my son is not a punchline.

Here’s the thing. I used to be one of you. I didn’t give the use of these words a second thought, because I would never have actually said something cruel to someone who had Down syndrome, developmental delays, cognitive delays, autism, or just “wasn’t quite right.” After all, I didn’t mean “them.” I didn’t even give much consideration to how deeply words can hurt until Ben Townsend came into the world. After that? Well, everything changed.

Now listen, in my heart of hearts, I truly believe that most people don’t actually feel hatred or disgust toward the people who make up this population. Most of the time, people don't feel much of anything unless such a statement directly affects someone they know and love.  They really aren’t trying to hurt people who have special needs or their families. To those with open minds and hearts, I want to tell you a little bit more about Ben.

Ben was Bumbo-sitting at his first birthday party

I distinctly recall a moment when Ben was 13 months old. As I helped him sit up, which he was unable to do without support at that time, he struggled to play with a toy that interested him. While my heart leapt that he was finally(!) interested in a toy, I felt the melancholy nagging of doubt. Around that same time, we listened as various physicians told us that Ben might never walk, never communicate, never eat without assistance, never be able to do anything independently. As a mother just trying to survive the late-night cry-in-the-shower sessions and get through the next day, hearing someone tell you that you might never hear your child call you Mama is a devastating blow.

When I look at Ben now and think over his life so far, I’m amazed by his strength and determination, the effort he has made to master simple tasks that you and I probably take for granted. The boy who would never do anything? He is five now.  He reads to me every night, rarely missing a word and using inflection I could have only dreamed of hearing from my former students. He can count to 100 and beyond by 1s, 2s, 3s, 5s, and 10s. He understands adding and subtracting. Not only can he walk, he can also run and flip and jump (and tell you exactly how many times he has jumped). He can sing the alphabet A-Z and Z-A. He can spell touchdown, Kentucky, eighteen, orange, and neighborhood. We could never take him to sit in the audience at a spelling bee, because he would win from the crowd. He can play football with his brother, and although he has a long way to go to catch the ball consistently, he can tackle all of us Polamalu-style.

I'll race you back to the pool!


Book Club meeting with friend Simon

Ben has worked so much harder than you or I ever did to learn to walk, to talk, to read, to eat, to perform fine motor skills such as writing or pulling up his pants. When I think of his achievements from that perspective, I stand in awe of this little boy.

Here’s what I hope you will take away from this: Everyone – EVERYONE - deserves your respect until they give you a reason that they don’t. One thing I know for sure? You will never find a population more worthy of your highest regard.


Today, March 6, 2013, is designated as a day to spread the word to end the word. Please join us! Take the pledge. Tell your friends. For Pete's sake, tell your kids! Thank you, thank you, thank you.



4 comments:

Susan Hancock said...

Dear Allie, Leah Steelman is my daughter- she sure loves you, and that means I love you too! Thank you for your strength to teach us all how to be a little kinder, and understand a little better. Your Ben sounds like a kid I would love to know. He's a special little boy, and you are a special mother too!

The Hancocks said...

This is something that touches my heart. I appreciate you sharing your inspiring little world, and the strength that you and your sweet Ben have. I have always shuttered when hearing this word used in such lax and hurtful manor. This population has more to teach us than we could ever imagine. We should not be using these words to degrade another, we should be opening our eyes to see what we can learn from these special spirits. Thank you again for sharing. You have put a smile on my face, and a firm resolve in my heart. Love to you and yours.

Tanya said...

Beautiful AND amazing. He's only five?

Unknown said...

Allie, that was beautiful! I'm sure you would never admit it, but Ben gets his strength and perseverance from you and your husband. He is such a FANTASTIC kid! While working at the gym, watching his accomplishments were amazing! Thank you for your beautiful words... I will certainly share this with others!