Thursday, January 9, 2014
Why "Special Needs"?
I have another question for parents of children with disabilities. I hope this question isn’t either too controversial or too ignorant, but here it goes. Why do blogs by parents of what I would term "kids with disabilities" use the term “special needs” instead of variations on disability?
Is it because disability sounds too negative? Is it because schools now widely use the term “special needs”. Does it reflect a more complex re-conceptualizing of “disability” as just another form of human variation? Or, is there some reason for it that I might be totally unaware of?
I ask because as an adult, I use variations on the word “disability” to describe my physical impairments, which I have had since birth. When I’m being very specific and scientific, I might use “impairments”. When I’m feeling punchy or shooting the sh*t with other disabled people, I might even say “cripple”. I know of many adults with disabilities who take care to use person-first language … and others who don’t like person-first language at all. I also know of many disabled adults who prefer “differently-abled”, or some other self-consciously positive terms. They’re not my cup of tea, but lots of disabled people like it. However, I can’t imagine myself, or remember any other disabled adults using “special needs” to describe their own disabilities. Like, never. I’ve only ever heard the term used by family members to describe disabilities of someone in the family … or doctors, teachers, or other professionals to describe patients, students, or customers, and mostly just children, rarely adults.
So, maybe I have a second, related question for parents. If you use “special needs” for your child, do you think your child will use the term to describe his or her situation when he or she grows up? Or, do you think they might switch to disability, as they mature and have the emotional tools to develop their own positive, and realistic self-concept?
Obviously, I’ve tipped my hand here. I don’t really understand or relate to the term “special needs”. The thing is, I don’t despise it the way I do some other disability euphemisms, and I don’t really have a strong argument for what might be wrong with “special needs”. I guess I’m saying that I am open to persuasion, and would like to hear if there is a thought-out philosophy behind it.
Wednesday, January 8, 2014
No More R-Word
Tim Villegas, Think Inclusive - December 26, 2013
(Via Independent and Visible).
I like the way this article is phrased, like a guide to quitting smoking. I really think that for a lot of people, using the word “retarded” is an involuntary habit. There’s no substantive, linguistic reason to use the word. Other words and phrases work fine to describe brain impairments that affect intelligence. At this point, it’s just something that people have gotten into the habit of saying to describe people they think are stupid, or situations they feel are the opposite of “awesome”.
A word about “ending the word”. I would quibble a bit about exactly what the goal should be on this issue. I don’t think our goal should eliminating the word from the English language. If it did disappear, I’d be happy, but that shouldn’t be the goal. I think the goal should be to make “retarded” a thoroughly uncool thing to say in any circumstance. Along with that, for people who care about being polite, make it clear that “retarded” is thoroughly impolite and insulting. Of course, it may be that the easiest way to accomplish these goals is to tell people again and again to just stop using the word.
Here’s the video that’s embedded in the “Think Inclusive” article:
To me, the most persuasive argument for never saying, “retarded” again is that it is potentially a trigger word. That is, when some people hear it, the word triggers a strong emotional reaction because of associations of with real-life trauma. Most people who have cognitive impairments have had the word flung at them with real hostility, ceaseless ridicule, and sometimes violence. For them, “retarded” is an insult, a negation, and way more ugly than just a neutral slang word for “uncool”. Free speech aside, since I have no desire to hurt people with cognitive disabilities, that’s good enough for me.
I’m done with it, and in future I’ll only ever refer to it as “the r-word”.
Tuesday, January 7, 2014
American Horror Story
This is the actress Jamie Brewer, who is a semi-regular cast member of “American Horror Story”. In Season One, “Murder House”, she played Adelaide Langdon, and in the current Season Three, “Coven”, she plays Nan.
I’m only part way through the Season One, so I’ve only seen a little bit of Brewer’s performances. I still don’t know quite what to think. She plays the character well, but I’m having a hard time going with the flow of how her character is used in the story. It’s the usual dilemma of modern horror. If taken at face value, it’s often morally repugnant in the extreme. But, if what we are seeing is a commentary on the horrific behavior portrayed, can we feel okay about enjoying it? Sometimes, I think it really works that way. Other times, I think it’s a weak excuse for thrilling in a freak show.
My take at the moment is that we, the audience, are meant to be a bit creeped out by Adelaide herself, because of her appearance and voice as someone with Down Syndrome. The show also indulges in a hoary old cliche … the mentally impaired person who by virtue of their impairment is spiritually tuned in to an unseen world, or perceptive of some hidden truth. This would be empowering if it wasn’t such a well-worn trope.
At the same time, we are clearly also supposed to feel sorry for Addy, and be angry on her behalf, because of how her mother Constance, (Jessica Lange), treats her. In fact, Constance’s twisted way of loving / abusing Addy is our first hint at Constance’s own villainy. This is where we might feel that we’re seeing a commentary of some sort, and forgive ourselves from shuddering a bit from our first encounter with Addy.
Finally, I kept waiting for someone to ask why Addy, who is a grown woman, still lives like a child with her mother. The new next door neighbors, the show’s main characters and catalysts, would have been the perfect people to ask a challenging question like that, especially their teenaged daughter who is kind of a rebel anyway. But so far, Addy’s status is never questioned.
I wonder how Brewer feels about playing these characters, and I really wonder how Jessica Lange felt to be saying such vile things to her “daughter” in that first season. I’m especially anxious to see what kind of character Jamie Brewer played in AHS “Coven”. Please, don’t spoil me!
Incidentally, I was impressed to read in her IMDB biography that Jamie Brewer has served in the leadership of the ARC and other disability organizations, in her home state of Texas and nationally. It’s good to see organizations serving developmentally disabled people include leadership from people with developmental disabilities. It’s also good to see someone with disabilities embrace service to people like themselves, rather than shunning the connection.
What Should We Call Them?
I’m trying to come up with a short, witty term for those things that people say regarding disability that people with disabilities mostly roll their eyes about, but that non-disabled people say all the time and think are very insightful. For example:
"The only disability in life is a bad attitude."
“Everyone has some kind of disability.”
“Disabled people are just like everyone else.”
A the moment, I like to call these “Low-Calorie Ideas”. They aren’t exactly wrong. On some level they are even a little bit right. But, they are off-base, and more importantly they say less of substance than they seem. These aphorisms sound significant, and to some they kind of feel good, but if you think about them at all, you realize that they are pretty thin and empty. When you say them, you haven’t said much.
What other ways can we explain why we don’t like these kinds of clichés?
Monday, January 6, 2014
Maysoon Zayid TED Talk
There’s rather a jumble of messages and ideas in this TED Talk, but I enjoyed it. Sometimes it’s worth the time just to hear an interesting person’s stories.
Disability And Hotness
Smart Ass Cripple - December 30, 2013
I’ll be honest. At first I didn’t understand what Smart Ass Cripple was getting at with this one. I’m not 100% sure I fully get it now. But this quote I think captures the main idea, and it’s a doozy:
"It says that even if you’re crippled you still have a lot to look forward to, if you’re hot. Yes, plenty of opportunity still awaits you if you have gumption and a can-do spirit and you’re hot.”
I’ve been getting more and more interested in the body image aspects of disability lately, what with the Mannequins video making me cry, and Tumblr sites like Disabled People Are Sexy. I think there’s a lot to think about here, and I love to see people exploring ways that everyone can be beautiful. However, I don’t think we’ve come all that far, really, from conventional standards of beauty. And I do think that people with disabilities who are also conventionally attractive have a markedly different experience of disability from those of us who are not. I won’t say markedly better, because there are so many other variables that affect each person. But if nothing else, conventional attractiveness seems to make it a lot easier for non-disabled people to relate to people in wheelchairs, people with prosthetics, people who use crutches, or who have other noticeable disabilities.
I’m not at all sure what this means, or what it should lead us to do, but I think it’s true.
Sunday, January 5, 2014
A Question For Parents Of Kids With Disabilities ...
Have you ever felt your attitude or feelings about disability changed or influenced by a disabled character on a TV show? If not changed, do you feel more strongly drawn to any disabled TV characters because of your family experience with disability? Has your child ever identified more strongly with a TV character because he or she has a disability?
Weekly Wrap-Up
Monday, December 30, 2013
Tuesday, December 31, 2013
Wednesday, January 1, 2014
Thursday, January 2, 2014
Friday, January 3, 2014
Saturday, January 4, 2014
Disability On Downton Abbey
For American fans, Season 4 of Downton Abbey starts tonight.
I thoroughly enjoy the series. I’m a fan. That said, its a very uneven show, with some great story lines, characters, and moments … and some ridiculous plots, inconsistent characters, and botched scenes. Even the show’s greatest strengths, its historical depictions, fall short as often as they succeed.
One thing that surprised me when I started watching "Downton Abbey" was how often disability plays a part in the story. Like everything else on the show, the quality of these disability depictions varies wildly, between original insight, and weak, tired cliches. In honor of tonight’s premiere, here’s a rundown of the disability depictions and themes we’ve seen so far … spoilers ahead:
Mr. Bates, Lord Grantham’s valet, who walks with a pronounced limp, from wounds acquired in the Boer War. Some of the other staff’s rejection of the “crippled servant” was arguably the first, and longest-lasting conflict in the whole series. It didn’t actually cause Thomas and O’Brien to hate Mr. Bates. They hated him because he took a job that Thomas wanted. But, they evidently believed that his disability was a more acceptable reason to oppose him than simple envy. Apparently, disability prejudice is a more honorable motive than professional resentment.
At first, almost nobody … upstairs or downstairs … could conceive of how Bates would do his job with a limp, though the “good guys” on the show were quickly won over by Bates’ decency and character. Also, in one of the earlier episodes of the first season, Bates tried to “fix” his limp with a local craftsman’s horrible design for a limp-correcting brace. The device nearly tore his leg to bloody shreds until the head housekeeper, Mrs. Hughes, confronted him and got him to chuck the thing into the lake, resolving to be himself from there on out. So far, that’s the last we’ve heard of Bates’ limp as a relevant plot point. In a sense, his disability stopped being important when he decided to stop trying to fix it … something I think lots of disabled people can relate to in real life.
At first, almost nobody … upstairs or downstairs … could conceive of how Bates would do his job with a limp, though the “good guys” on the show were quickly won over by Bates’ decency and character. Also, in one of the earlier episodes of the first season, Bates tried to “fix” his limp with a local craftsman’s horrible design for a limp-correcting brace. The device nearly tore his leg to bloody shreds until the head housekeeper, Mrs. Hughes, confronted him and got him to chuck the thing into the lake, resolving to be himself from there on out. So far, that’s the last we’ve heard of Bates’ limp as a relevant plot point. In a sense, his disability stopped being important when he decided to stop trying to fix it … something I think lots of disabled people can relate to in real life.
Thomas Barrow, the footman, who literally “got himself shot in the hand” so he would be shipped home from the horror of the trenches in the First World War. His wound hasn’t played much of a role since, but it hasn’t gone away, either. It makes one wonder ... If a limp was such a barrier for Bates as a valet, wouldn't a shattered hand get in the way, too? If so, we never saw a sign of it.
Matthew Crawley, Lord Grantham’s cousin and heir, who was paralyzed from the waist down in the First World War, but who recovered, because his spinal cord was only bruised, not severed. This was both the most consequential, and unfortunately the most cliched disability story in the series so far. Matthew’s paralysis was important in several distinct ways:
- The most obvious issue was that for a time, Matthew faced a future in which he would never walk again. This was equated with needing unspecified, broadly-defined care for life … care that his fiancée Livinia Swire would have to provide, presumably making her life miserable. This ennobled Livinia in comparison to Matthew’s real love, Lady Mary, so that later on when thinking about which woman he should marry, Matthew at first resolved to stay with Livinia, since she had been willing sacrifice herself to care for him. The possibility that a life with Matthew in a wheelchair might be satisfying for Livinia was never seriously considered. The choice was completely black and white ... abandon Matthew and be happy, or do the "honorable thing", take care of Matthew, and waste her life away.
- On top of the “lifetime burden” theme, there was the sexual sacrifice that’s been a part of so many paralysis stories in movies and TV. Matthew wouldn’t be able to have sex, which, in those late Edwardian times, meant that Livinia would never have sex either, another sacrifice she would make for Matthew.
- Matthew’s miraculous cure functioned as miracles often do in stories, yet it seems like writer Julian Fellows went out of his way a little to underscore that it wasn’t actually miraculous. He had simply been misdiagnosed, and was always going to recover. This made the abrupt end to the paralysis story a bit less annoying, but only a bit less.
- I posted back in November about what I think is the most interesting disability-related line in the series so far. Lady Mary is pushing Matthew around the Downton grounds in his wheelchair:
Matthew: “I’m strong enough to push myself.”Mary: “I’ll be the judge of that.”
I still think this brief exchange is a very realistic and crystal clear example of how ableism often works in real life. One of the defining characteristics of disabled people, especially as depicted in literature and entertainment, is that we don’t understand our disabilities, and need non-disabled people to keep us grounded and safe.
Sir Anthony Strallan, older neighbor and friend to the family, onetime fiancé of Lady Edith, had a rather vague arm injury from his service in the war. This was only brought up to add to the notion that Lady Edith would be making too great a sacrifice in marrying such and old, crippled man. The logic here was so non-specific and weak, that it really didn’t work. Strallan never appeared to be noticeably impaired by his injury … nor did he ever really look like an old geezer, either. When Strallan left Edith at the altar because of his own guilt feelings about the young woman sacrificing herself for a broken down old man, it’s hard to tell if we were supposed to see this argument as valid, or … as it appeared to me … utterly misplaced. The whole storyline seemed weak, based on premises about age and disability that just never seemed applicable in this specific case.
There have been two other short-term characters whose disabilities partly defined their roles in the story:
Lieutenant Edward Courtenay, the blinded British officer befriended by Thomas and Lady Sybil while working in the cottage hospital, who killed himself when told he would have to leave them and go to another hospital. There had been scenes of Thomas and Sybil helping Courtenay learn mobility with a cane, supposedly establishing the idea that only these two could get the Lieutenant to push past his depression and work on his rehabilitation, even though he was to be moved to a fully qualified rehabilitation hospital. His suicide was used as the clinching argument for turning the Downton Abbey house into a recuperation center for non-acute wounded soldiers. Earlier, Thomas and Courtenay had bonded over both feeling like outsiders … Courtenay because his brother was going to take over his place in the family business, and Thomas, more covertly, because he is gay.
and …
Major Patrick Gordon, the Canadian officer with severe facial wounds who wound up at the Downton Abbey recuperation hospital, and claimed to be the estate’s long-lost heir, thought to have drowned on the Titanic in 1912.
Have I missed anyone?
Yes! I forgot Henry Lang, short-term valet to Lord Grantham, who had "shellshock" or PTSD. Sarah O'Brien, one of the show's most authentic villains, was the only person who really befriended him, because her brother had suffered in a similar way from his war service. Plus, Mrs. Patmore, the head cook, almost went blind from cataracts, though this was a very brief plot point resolved when the Granthams paid for eye surgery.
So, is this a lot of disability for one series? Or, do other shows depict disability this much ... maybe more than we notice?
Saturday, January 4, 2014
Advice
Via bunnika’s blog, at xojane, Selene Luna advises on How Not To Be A Dick To A Little Person.
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