 |
||
Yes, My Kid is Retarded |
||
| |
||
|
No, that’s not a challenge, go ahead call my kid retarded I DARE YOU. (And then WHAM! Off with your head!) It’s not a trick. It’s not. Really. It’s … an invitation. Retarded. We say that word while conjuring thoughts of kids who drool a little, their slack jaws a symbol of the blank minds we imagine inside. The short bus. Special ed. Less than. Not as good as. Not, um, normal. But what is it really? Retarded. Slow. Slower. So now I look at my kid. My son, Eric. My retarded son. He’s five. Five-and-a-half. He wears a diaper except when he takes it off to poop on the floor. He drinks a teaspoon of water at a time from an open cup because if you put any more than that in the cup he’ll spill it all down his front and then laugh at the result. He can’t run. He can’t jump. 90% of the time he’s completely unintelligible and the other 10% we guess at the sounds. Is he like any other five-and-a-half year old I’ve known? No. He’s retarded. Eric sure has a good time. I am convinced he could do more if he wanted to. But he doesn’t want to. He likes being, you know, the “R” word. He’s totally working it, using it to his advantage. That thought dawned on me once, about a year ago — I had the sense, suddenly, that he knew everything I was saying and he was choosing to look at me uncomprehendingly, blankly, unspeaking, unresponsive. As soon as I had that thought he ran off, shrieking with delight (well, grunting; he doesn’t shriek) and I chased him, finally wrestling him down to the floor. He was smiling. A game. “Eric!” I demanded. “Do you understand more than you let on? Could you talk more if you wanted to?” He looked at me for a moment. Really saw me, saw into me, the way he did when he was an infant and I wore him next to my heart before he could walk, when he spoke to me without words and told me not to be frightened, that this Down syndrome thing was okay, and that he’d be okay. That I’d be okay. We were in a bubble, me kneeling over him lying on the floor, looking up at me, suspended together for a moment in space and time. I could see into his infinite wisdom and understanding, the all-knowingness we each have when we drop the illusions we carry about ourselves and one another. He smiled again, gently this time. “Yes.” He said the word clearly, and nodded as well for good measure. I let him up and he got to his feet and walked back into his world. It tore me up for the longest time, knowing he could do more. I had made it my job to help him get there, and he didn’t want it. So what’s good about retarded? People drop their expectations about you. (No one expects Eric to go to college.) He can do what he wants, and someone will always care for him. He’ll always have enough to eat, and beyond eating his needs are few. He can entertain himself with almost anything (the toilet, for instance). A pile of rocks would do. It’s also about being present. Slow is beautiful. Slow invites us to be in the moment, to enjoy what we have right now. How many of us can say that? I know I’d like more slowness in my life. Retarded. It’s not a bad gig. Sure, other people see him differently. Not now, but they will. Classmates, maybe. People who don’t know him. Right now it’s cute when a five-and-a-half year old wants to hug you, but that’s because he’s not much more than three feet tall. Give him a couple more feet in height and the hormones that will inevitably come with age and he’ll be scaring people, or at least making them uncomfortable. People who’ll then use the word “retarded” as a shield instead of as an invitation. Retarded. Right now it doesn’t hurt him but it might one day. I’ll worry about that then, though. For now I think Eric can take care of himself. | ||
|
||
10 Responses to "Yes, My Kid is Retarded"Leave a comment: | ||
| ||
| ||
IMPERFECTION IN YOUR INBOX
 | ||
 | ||
| ||
POPULAR RIGHT NOW
Coffee or Tea, Which One is for Me? When I registered as an Independent, I did so because... read more » The Ides and Crooked Teeth of March According to the old saying, the month of March usually... read more » Why I'm tired of the GOP There's no doubt (except perhaps among loyal listeners... read more » |
About The Imperfect Parent | Submission Guidelines | Press | Contact Us | Advertise on The Imperfect Parent | Privacy Policy | Terms of Use
All original content © 2002 - 2010 The Imperfect Parent™ and Tiny Tantrums Media. The Imperfect Parent and Mominatrix are trademarks of Prudentia Communications Group.
The views, opinions and information expressed in articles and blog posts published on imperfectparent.com and all subdomains are those of the authors alone. They do not represent the views or opinions of The Imperfect Parent or its staff, nor do they represent the views or opinions of any entity of, or affiliated with, The Imperfect Parent and Prudentia Communications Group. The Imperfect Parent is designed for entertainment purposes only and is not meant to be a substitute for medical, health, legal, or financial advice from a professional.
Reproduction of material from any of The Imperfect Parent's pages without written permission is strictly prohibited. The Imperfect Parent and Tiny Tantrums are trademarks of Prudentia Communications Group.
1. Amanda
Apr 15, 2009 13:35
I like this. The whole political correctness of choosing words doesn't really hit to the heart of why there's intolerance. Retarded is the right word - but of course, those people using the word as an aggressive shield are adding something on.2. ellen
Apr 15, 2009 14:14
really good! I've often thought that the connotations placed on words are worse than the actual/given meaning. Your son is lucky to have you3. Julie
Apr 15, 2009 14:43
I fucking Love this, you are such a smart woman. I feel exactly the same way about William. HE knows. And he is OK with it. Brilliant piece.4. mothergoosemouse
Apr 17, 2009 21:12
This one got me right there (*thumping chest*). In a good way.What a lucky son you've got.
5. Cin Langston
Apr 25, 2009 16:55
I loved this too. I JUST finished some similar thoughts over at the blog on Jessica's "consensual parenting" post. My son's challenges are only mild and he will likely grow out of them eventually. Even so, he has a lot of hurtful words flung at him daily. He's 13... a cruel age. And I needed to come up with a defense.We use all the mean words on ourselves and attach love to them before others have a chance to use them in other ways. Like an update to the old "I'm rubber you're glue" saying. It has helped him a lot.
I do use the word "retarded". But I have never thought in terms of people or conditions when I said it. But I stopped for a while, swayed by political correctness, then I realized... it's just a word. I have NEVER made fun or practiced cruelty of any kind. In my youngest days I remember being on a mission to "buy the world a coke". LOL.
"Retarded" to me describes an idea or act that does not make any sense, that is the result of limited intelligence. To direct this at a person would be cruel of course. But on its own it is just a word and we give too much power to some words. I believe it's best to claim the words ourselves and give them meaning that suits us! Then we won't get hurt by them.
6. Dating Advice (Almost) Daily
Apr 30, 2009 13:17
Wow. You are smart and funny and a remarkable human being. I am in complete awe of you.Bet your son grows up to be a happy man, as well as a source of light and joy for other people.
7. Shelley
May 20, 2009 13:33
I love your stories and I have to share one...just have to, I think you 'll enjoy it. I was working at a school for children with special needs (some more special than others...). We had taken some children on a shopping trip and I assume that people found our children really interesting because they stared. Well, as these were "MY CHILDREN" it made me extremely ANGRY when this would happen, but the kids didn't seem to notice...fortunately. This particular day held a surprise for me. While we were walking through the store and I was angry about the stares, one of my students started tugging on my sleeve, and then another. I looked down and while continuing to tug on my sleeve they both looked at me and with the other hand pointed to a shopper and wailed, "LLOOOOKKKK Miss _______, it's a midget!" Oh my goodness was I embarrassed! After the shopping trip we were taking them to a lake to sail home made boats. When we turned into the area where we intended to play, guess what we saw....another "little person" was fishing! Now if it had been my own children, I would've simply explained what I knew in an age-appropriate way, and we would've continued with our plans...not with these kids...we found another place. To save embarrassment for everyone involved!8. Diane Rosen
Aug 24, 2009 16:11
Karen,I loved this! You have a great sense of humor and a real talent to relay your feelings into words. Hope to read more about Eric.
9. Kathy Dettwyler
Aug 25, 2009 08:36
Hmmmmm . . . . Eric sounds a LOT like Peter Dettwyler. Perhaps its the chromosomal bonus they share. Enjoying his life at age 24 and keeping us all eternally amused.10. tammy
Jan 23, 2010 12:09
I have always hated the word "retarded" because it is used in such a negative way, and seems like the last polictically correct discriminatory descriptor left; and it attacks those who often cannot defend themselves. My son is growing up, and becoming aware that he is different and it troubles him, as it would any child. However, in the privacy of our own home, Robbie is just a regular guy. He plays Wii, fights with sister, etc. Watching him grow-slowly- has been an honor. Each accomplishment was an acheivement indeed, simply because of the lack of real expectations that are placed on "typical" kids. Great to have reinforcement from other parents who see the wisdom in these kids also!