Nick December 2009

The vast majority of the people we have met since my son was left disabled, including many of his friends and many perfectly nice, decent people are uncomfortable in the presence of disability.

I admit to having felt the same way. So does my son.

When we go out with the wheelchair, my son (whose IQ will still beat most people’s) is subjected to a whole spectrum of discomfort. People will either speak to me, over his head, make the assumption that because his speech is not quite perfect, his mind must also be disabled, refuse to look at him at all, or, possibly most insidious of all, simply change their voice and attitude and speak down to him, with the kindest of intentions. One can see quite clearly those who are proudly showing how well they can handle dealing with a disabled person……

Our society has never encouraged us to treat disability with simple acceptance. Only those intimately acquainted with disability or a disabled person learn the skills to treat people normally. Even our language reinforces the idea of separation, teaching us early on that some people ‘suffer’ a disability. Even the word itself… ‘disabled’… implies something that doesn’t  function, doesn’t work and therefore is useless. And we grow up with that idea.

With the best will in the world, the vast majority of us will avoid, where possible, interaction with anyone displaying any signs of being ‘less’ than normal. Where we do have to deal with ‘them’, there is a subtle panic that creeps in and we become over nice and over helpful to compensate. We may even have a momentary pride that we handled it well.

Uncomfortable reading, isn’t it?

My son, just as an isolated example, in the three years since he was attacked, in spite of displaying more guts than most of us have in our little fingers, in spite of being funny, quick witted, kind and caring, and a joy to spend time with (well, most of the time anyway 😉 has seen the majority of his friends fade away, has been ignored in public, been prevented from accessing basic things and places, subjected to comments out of the blue which are simply nasty, and was made to feel ashamed to go out.

The support of others however, has changed things dramatically for Nick. People are showing that they do care. People like you, who are taking the time to read this. The messages we get daily often reduce me to tears. And my son is getting his confidence in life back again.  He will do it. And he will hold his head up high again.

And when he does, every single one of you who has taken the time to care can know that between you, you have achieved something beautiful.