You are the same – but you’re not.
The other night I sat watching a documentary about children and in particular children with special needs. I sat there dumbfounded watching one scene where a ‘teacher’ of children with special needs said (with a straight face) that people with Downs Syndrome are just like everybody else. Then they panned to a child with a particularly bad case and he repeated her, saying that we’re just like everyone else.
Ok, it was more like “wweeeee juwst wike ebbyone elbse‘, but the meaning was there.
So you’re telling me that a child born with a known handicap, one that has limited mental capacity and inadequate control of their emotions is just like everyone else? And you drill that into their head even though the most that a good portion of them can accomplish is the table cleaner at your local fast food restaurant? If they are lucky?
Case in point, my imaginary dinner with my imaginary downs syndrome friend, Lenny.
Me: What are you doing, Lenny?
Lenny: I am picking a boogie!
Me: That’s not appropriate at the dinner table.
Lenny: I eat mai boogie now! Yum yum in the tum!
Me: Lenny, why are you going red in the face?
Lenny: I make poopie! In mai pants!
Me: For gods sakes Lenny, you’re 41.
Now, you are probably going to call me an insensitive asshole, and you’d be right. I’m not saying that people with downs syndrome shouldn’t be here – on the contrary. They have many enviable qualities that I would like to have, most notably some of them can have an excellent mood and a happy outlook on life in the face of any adversity. What I’m saying is teaching them that they are just like everyone else, when they clearly have diminished capacity because of the unfortunate event of a genetic flaw is wrong.
I’ll tell you who the assholes are though. Right after you teach these children they are like everyone else, you teach them that everyone is different and unique. Which is it, hmm?
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Spaz’s Book of the month – Portnoy’s Complaint
