A World of Fairness
Now that Schuyler is on Facebook, I occasionally get a very public peek at what’s going on in her head, in ways that I don’t necessarily get otherwise. Welcome to teen parenting, I guess. A few days ago, she posted about school starting back up and said, “I think I am bummed about school.” After a few people responded, she added a comment. “School is hard for me.”
She tries so hard, and I think she’s mostly keeping her head above water. She passed all her exams and classes last semester, after all. I’ve never been more proud of her than I am now after watching her conquer her first semester of high school. Not just for the academics, which have been challenging, but also for all the social pieces, many of which she navigates without truly understanding them. I see how her classmates treat her, and honestly, she seems to be surrounded by people who have genuine affection for her. But that hasn’t translated into friendships like I’d hoped it might. She hasn’t found her tribe just yet.
Usually I try to have a big unifying advocacy theme to write about here. There are times like today, however, when honestly all I have are the unfocused meanderings of the father of a girl who needs a little extra help, in a world that seems less interested than ever in budging. There are aspects of this parenting life that drain my energy like vampires, but this might be the worst.
I should stop reading the news, I suspect. Then I won’t hear about cops who get recorded making fun of kids with disabilities. I won’t have to read the comments about entitled special needs parents following the story of a three-year-old stroke victim with cerebral palsy who was treated insensitively by a United Airlines flight attendant. And I won’t have to read an interview with the the new president of Schuyler’s school district board of trustees, in which she goes on at length about her priorities for the district without mentioning special education even once.
Not every story is black and white. The family traveling on the United flight probably should have been better prepared, for instance. The rules are the rules, I know. But when I see public discourse on how disability rights advocates are gaming the system and how it’s not fair for us to expect to be treated with extra empathy or flexibility, I feel my shoulders slump.
Fairness. What a word to use to our families. What a social narrative for us to adhere to.
There’s a parallel narrative that we all see almost constantly, the one that seems positive enough. I’ve written about this narrative before. It’s the one that says special needs kids are given to special parents, and that we have skills and abilities far beyond those of other parents. It sounds nice enough, but it’s a trick, an escape clause for society, a “Not My Problem” card. It says we’re superheroes, and who ever gives a damn about the trials and limitations of superheroes? Superman can take care of his bad self.
Schuyler attends a school district where academic performance is highly valued and high test scores are a hot commodity. There’s a danger in schools like these where students who don’t or can’t perform at a high academic level become a “problem”, in terms of scores and resources and teacher skills. It’s a short walk from there to questioning why those resources should be spent on students whose contributions to the system are… unclear, perhaps.
It’s an attitude that extends beyond school. At some point, we have to decide how much we value a concept of fairness in which everyone gets the same rules, and it’s up to them to utilize their equal slice of the pie. It might be time to ask ourselves if fairness could be thought of in terms of equal opportunity, and how that starting place could be different, even flexible, for people with disabilities and the families who give so much to help the ones they love.
I’d like to suggest a new attitude as we begin a new year. There’s a lot of concern out there about fairness and balance and making sure no one gets anything they’re not entitled to. I think we’ve got that covered. Perhaps it’s time for a little imbalance. Maybe, just maybe, the world won’t spin off its axis if we worry just a little more about those families for whom the idea of fairness has always been something of a cruel joke. Not charity, but just a little empathy. Perhaps a pinch more humanity than we’ve been accustomed to tossing into the mix.
Schuyler is challenged by the world in ways that are decidedly unfair. But it’s an unfairness handed down by God or Fate or Just The Way Things Are, and as a society, we don’t have a very good track record of dealing with that kind of unfairness. We can try harder to do so. We can do better.
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You have, on numerous occasions, complained bitterly that your daughter doesn’t have friends, that she has yet to find her “tribe” — as if it is 100% the responsibility of others to take the initiative to befriend your child.
It isn’t. It may not be right, it may not be fair, but it just is. There are plenty of kids who have more significant (for the lack of a better word) impairments who DO manage to make friends, to frind their tribe… so at least a potion of the lack of tribe is a lack of effort on your girl’s part.
Wow. I never saw this comment until just now. I’m kind of glad I didn’t.
I think I’m going to leave it at that.
Katie, I believe that Rob was simply pointing out that Schuyler hadn’t found her tribe, not the assignment of responsibility for befriending her. We all need our tribes; it takes a while to find them, for everyone. Circumstances can contribute to you not meeting those special people who click with you, neurotypical or not. Chance plays a role in this. How you can assume that you know that the lack of Schuyler’s tribe “is a lack of effort on your girl’s part” seems gross presumption and arrogance to me.
I see schools pressuring parents with underachieving kids to get them diagnosed and statemented. I had a school suggest my son has Autism and needed a diagnosis and special program. I resisted, he matured a bit and is getting As in HS and no one has suggested he’s anything but a good student, smart kid, and friendly boy. My daughter, who is a bit of a slacker, went through a process, too. She ended up with extra time on tests (which she didn’t need, but she did like the extra space in the extra-time room.)
This practice of pushing disability for extra resources on normal kids is what takes money and community support away from the kids who really need it.
The process of grabbing resources from the people who can’t defend themselves is common. In the 70s, when deinstitutionalization was happening, my father was on a regional board to help shape the community mental health centers which were being established to provide services to the people leaving the horrendous state mental hospitals. He said the psychiatrists and other people on the board were used to dealing with what he called the “worried well;” such as kids getting bad grades because they were struggling with their parents’ divorce. They were setting up services for the worried well, when these services were funded because people with serious, but manageable mental illness like schizophrenia and bipolar who could function with medication were going to move into the community, but they didn’t have advocates or the savvy to lobby for their needs. The result was an epidemic of homelessness.
End of rant.
As a side point, when my brother (who I’m sure is far more handicapped than Schuyler) was in HS, there was a bowling group for the special needs kids. I’d recommend you pick a few kids who are compatible with your daughter and organize a once-a-week or once-a-month activity that suits her needs. Bowling was good for my brother, who has Autism, because they were together, interacting, but doing something and to be successful did not depend on conversation. My brother does well with hikes and bike rides for the same reason.