The Perfect Focus
Finding focus in a blurry world…
Your disabled, you understand…
Rich on : Monday, August 10th, 2009This is a thought that popped into my head lately. And it comes from a friend sent some time ago when we where discussing their disability.
“But your disabled, you know what it’s like, you understand…”
Yes, this is true, I am disabled. The fact is I am visually disabled… I am sorry if even I a self-proclaimed advocate for disabled children do not understand what it is like.
I do not understand what it is like not to be able to hear, I do not understand what it is like not being able to see, being totally blind (remember I can see fairly well as legally blind people go).
I understand what it is like to not be able to see across the street, but not what it must be like to sit in a wheelchair and worry about steps and ramps. I don’t know what it’s like not to be able to hold a pencil to write my name, or be the child that understands every thing that is going on around them, but not be able to speak. I don’t know what it is like to need some one to help me get dressed or use the bathroom.
However there are things I do know. I DO know what it’s like to be stared at, even if I can’t see who is doing the staring, trust me, I can feel you. I DO know what it’s like to be laughed at or pointed at… asked questions, how, when, why… can it be fixed… I DO know what it’s like in school, to be left out or left behind and the last one picked… and needing some one else to take you where you need to go.
I don’t know what it’s like to have a child or be the child that has already spent half their life in a hospital, or making countless trips to therapy sessions… or be the child that has their life scheduled around therapy rather then a Little League game.
So, please… forgive me if I am the one doing the staring or asking the questions… I’m only human… You probably have some questions of your own for me, so be polite, ask… we’ll talk … and then get on being friends.
How is therapy going?
Can I have a ride in your wheelchair?
Yes, you can check out my white cane, just don’t use it like a sword!
I understand what it’s like to be disabled like me… not what it’s like to be disabled like you…
9 Responses for "Your disabled, you understand…"
I love your approach and only wish millions more would take note and do the same. Talk, not just stare.
Really great post. I’m sure I could come up with a better comment given it was any other day but today I am just a pile of mush after the last 24 hrs.
But thank you for this post. It was great.
Okay, so I really have thought alot about this one. Being the parent of a child with speical needs is hard too. Because I DON’T know what it’s like to be Rhett.
I try to treat him **normal** (whatever that is anyways) and let him just be a kid before anything else. But I don’t know what he feels like inside. I know that he probably thinks the way he feels is **normal** as far as his health is.
He doesn’t know what it’s like to run without getting tired and out of breath. He doesn’t know what it’s like to just come down with a small case of the sniffles. It always ends up being something more.
For now he doesn’t know that he has problems seeing due to his nystagmus. It’s just **normal** to him. He just works around it and keeps on trucking. He also doesn’t know that he is far behind his peers. One day he will, and I won’t know what to do when that day comes. How to help him get through the stares, the not so kind questions.
I only hope that I will be able to do the right thing for him.
I will never understand what it’s like to be him.
But I will continue to love him unconditionally. To treat him just as I do my other kids. To dicipline him when he does wrong, love him when he gets hurt, take care of him when he’s sick.
I don’t understand what it’s like to be disabled. But I do understand what it’s like to hurt when my child with a disability hurts, and to be sick when he is sick.
I also know that him, and you, and so many others out there are a major inspiration to me.
Thank you again for this post. Told you when my mind wasn’t mush I could come up with something. 😀
I really like this post too, Rich. I actually have been working on something kind of similar to this.
I don’t know what it is like to be Noah but I do know that it has to be so hard and so frustrating. It’s hard and frustrating for me as his Mom.
Recently, I wasn’t in the room and Noah needed the lamp on and tried to turn it on himself. He couldn’t because his fine motor skills just don’t allow him to. His brain knew what to do but his hands just wouldn’t cooperate. He got very frustrated and upset about it. Later, I sat and thought about how terrible it must be to want something as simple as a lamp turned on and not be able to do it for yourself.
Again, great post!
This really is a good one. I think almost every minute about how hard Lilah struggles to see. As you read in the post today. I worry for her. I am scared and nervous for her. All I can do is try to get her the best care possible.
Thanks again.
Well done, Rich.
As much as I read from other bloggers how they hate the stares, another way to offend is to assume you know what the other person feels like or thinks based on their disability.
Hoping you make good on the tease to write more along the theme of this post.
I like this post Rich, it’s very well written. I prefer for people to ask me about Jude’s situation rather than stare. I have no problem sharing the challenges he has overcome, and the faith we have for his future.
Thank you all for all your wonderful comments. With this response, I do think I can come up with a reply post on this subject… Now I just need time to write ti! LOL Thank you all for your support. Comments are what make the blog. Feel free to check my older posted too!
And thanks Katie, Lilah mom for the wonderful mention on her blog “Lilah’s Hope“, go check her out!
Cjengo thanks… We love Judo… and Em is am amazing girl…
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