Thursday, May 16, 2019

Asshats

Hello, hello! Did you guys ever notice that I say I'm going to write another blog post right away and then suddenly a year-and-a-half slips by? What can I say? I guess I run on Caribbean Standard Time these days.

Meanwhile, Little Dude grew about a foot taller and taught himself how to speak conversational Korean. He's also had his phone read him my blog and I'm so relieved that he likes it. I was always a little bit worried that he would consider it a violation of his privacy, but Gabriel has no problem with me telling our tales. We've actually recently taken our tricks to Instagram.

Like most of today’s youth, Gabriel is completely obsessed both with technology and the internet. He's also fallen in love with YouTube and would very much like to start making videos. I told him that it might be beneficial if we made a video talking about his blindness and he said, “Naw. I only let people I trust know I'm blind.”

What??????

It's not often that I'm rendered speechless but at that moment I was floored. His eyes are, quite literally, made of plastic how on Earth does he think he can pass for a sighted person?

 I changed the subject and let it drop but I was a little concerned that maybe Gabriel isn’t as well adjust did to his disability as I thought he was. However, the next day the universe revealed its answers to me - as it will if you're paying attention. Let me enlighten you.

I helped Gabriel learn to echolocate when he was a toddler and when he got a little older he hated his cane. Me, being arrogant, decided that technology would come up with something much better than that stick one day, so I’ve never forced him to use it all the time. I was also happy to encourage him to learn to rely on his other senses to help him navigate his way through the world. He mainly only uses his stick when he's on his own. When he's with me, he usually 'freestyles’.

 It’s a double edged sword - that cane of his. On one hand, it’s the current accessibility tool to beat for blind ambulation; on the other hand, it’s an imperfect tool. It misses all sorts of things that are above ground level.

Any way, to make a long story short (I’m lying. I have no idea how to do that.) I realized that I might have been doing my son a disservice by being lax on his mobility training so, to the tune of much complaining, I’ve been forcing him to bring his stick to places where - in the past - I would have let him freestyle.

HOLY SHIT!!!

The way people treat my son when he’s carrying his white badge of blindness, vs. the way they treat him when he doesn’t, is remarkable. Heartbreakingly remarkable.

Without his cane, my son is Gabriel. A vibrant, funny little boy who never quite looks you in the eye. Usually, by the time people figure out that he’s blind, they’ve been bowled over by his charming personality. If they have any comments at all, it’s usually a polite (albeit occasionally nosey) inquiry as to the nature of his disability.

With his cane, my son is instantly reduced to his limitations. People dehumanize him the second they see him.

“Oh, my God! The poor thing.” said in tones of deepest sorrow.  
“What happened to him?” as if he isn’t standing right there.  
“Will they ever be able to save him?” with a furrowed brow and hand on heart.

That last one (heard multiple times from people who should know better) is the one that makes me feel the most stabby.

Listen up, People: my son doesn’t need saving and he doesn’t need your pointless pity. He needs understanding and compassion. He needs education, advocacy and inclusion. He needs basic human dignity. He deserves the same baseline respect that every able bodied person takes for granted.

I get it you, guys I really do. Interacting with someone with a disability can be a little dicey - especially if your contact with the disabled is limited.

Here’s a good rule of thumb: don’t be an asshat.

A hat for an ass (either variety) is completely useless. As are all of the statements I’ve listed above. I’m working on some guidelines for interacting with the blind here in a post I creatively titled: A Beginners Guide to Interacting with the Blind.

Since I’m not blind myself, I can only understand disability through my son’s eyes. (How’s that for irony?) However, I can understand his plight better than most, since I bear witness to the atrocious things people say to him. The worst part of my son’s disability isn’t the fact that he can’t see. It’s the reactions he gets from all the people who can. He has enough challenges living his life in a world that wasn’t designed for him in mind - the last thing he needs is an asshat. He needs a world where he feels safe coming out as blind and it’s up to all of you to give it to him.


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