Redefining Disability

“Come, my friends,
’tis not too late to seek a newer world.”
-Alfred, Lord Tennyson


Most special needs children will eventually reach major developmental milestones, they just reach them later than typically developing children. Our son John Michael has proven to be no exception. He crawled later, walked later, talked later, and potty-trained later. I have learned to accept the fact that there is no developmental schedule for John Michael, and celebrate his achievements whenever they come. However, this was much more difficult for me in the first few years of his life.

When John Michael was about 20 months old, Jen and I took him to our Godson’s second birthday party. There, we found ourselves surrounded by “normal” children, who took little or no notice of our little boy. These children were running after each other, playing tag, kicking a rubber ball around, and climbing on play equipment. Jenni had put John-John down in a corner of the yard that wasn’t too busy with activity, near a table of parents, so that he could practice his crawling without getting hurt. As I watched my son smiling in the bright January sunlight, oblivious to the fact that he couldn’t do what the other kids were doing, I became aware that two mothers were watching John-John. As I debated whether or not to go over and introduce myself, I overheard one ask the other, “Is he the retarded one?” I was hurt, and confused about what to do or say, so I just went over and picked John-John up and carried him inside. The woman obviously didn’t realize I was John Michael’s father when she asked the question, and I’m sure she didn’t mean to be cruel. The reality is that Down Syndrome children do stand out. They look different, and behave differently. Their motor skills are not as developed and they process information more slowly than the average child. To one who has not gotten close to a child like John Michael, it is easy to categorize him as “retarded” or “disabled.”

We as a culture all too often define giftedness and intelligence in very narrow terms. What is his I.Q.? What are her grades? How well did he do on his SAT’s? Which colleges was she accepted to? We reduce human beings to isolated functions, and loose humanity in the process. Think of the teaching moments that are squandered, the celebrations missed, the number of children that grow up feeling “stupid”, and the parents that can’t see their children’s God-given abilities because of a set of test scores or a cumulative G.P.A.

In my doctoral studies in clinical psychology, I had neither been offered nor had I sought out any classes on special education. Why bother? I wanted to work with people who could understand, and grow, and change, and lead productive lives. I was glad there were good souls who dedicated their lives to serving mentally handicapped people, but I saw them more as babysitters than anything else. Then John Michael arrived.

An acquaintance who had heard that my son had been born with Down Syndrome introduced me to the work of Dr. Howard Gardner, a professor at Harvard University and the father of Multiple Intelligence theory. Gardner’s thesis is that society in general asks how smart is the child, when it should be asking how is the child smart. The difference is subtle but profound. Gardner goes on to suggest that there are at least eight ways a person can be smart, and that all of us are smart in several ways to greater or lesser extents. His categories of intelligence include: interpersonal, intrapersonal, musical, bodily-kinesthetic, spatial, mathematical, verbal, and naturalist.

Of course, now I don’t need a theory of intelligence to tell me my son is gifted and has a great deal to offer the world, after fifteen years of learning about him and from him. Today, if I had the opportunity to speak with the woman from the party, I would share with her why “retarded” doesn’t describe John Michael; his ability to relate to others with unconditional love, his sense of humor, his goodness, his joyful approach to life, and his willingness to forgive others before they ask for his forgiveness. Or better yet, I’d invite her to sit on the grass with him and let him give her butterfly kisses, or let him take her by the hand and show her the best hiding places in the garden, or just have her hold him in her lap and bask in his warmth. John-John has a way of communicating that is very persuasive.

“Is he the retarded one?” I actually smile now when I hear the question asked in my mind. My son lives in a perpetual state of grace, and enjoys more peace and happiness in any given week than most adults have experienced in a lifetime. Retarded? Only if you understand giftedness, and people, and life in very restricted ways.