Discrimination always felt like it was something that happened to other people. It felt like it could only be against someone’s race or religion. I remember learning about discrimination as a child and feeling like I could relate to it.
I knew he was special, like me!
As a child, it would hurt me so much to witness discrimination. There was a kid in my kindergarten class who had Tourette Syndrome. He got bullied a lot. I would quickly come to his aid because it just killed me to see others making fun of him. I knew he was special like me. The mocking would quickly turn to disabled jokes, but it didn’t seem as bad if I was the victim. I felt better once the attention was taken off of him.
I would love to say this lessened as I grew up, but it did not. It did get more clever than “you should work at IHOP”. Middle school is tough for anyone, preteens are a rough crowd! Now imagine heading into that being significantly shorter than everyone around you, missing one of your legs, and getting 11 of your teeth surgically removed because you’re way behind in every aspect of development. I basically went in with a kick-me sign on my back.
It felt as though one of my biggest fears was something being taken as a joke by my closest peers.
Highschool, unfortunately, evolved into teachers joining in. In one of my literature classes, we read a short story about an amputee. A man stole her leg and left her stranded in a field. I don’t know about you, but I feel the most vulnerable when my leg is a) off and b) out of my reach. The teacher just kept making fake leg jokes and laughing at how helpless this character was. The whole class was laughing – except for me. I was furious. The story wasn’t a comedic novel. It wasn’t intended to be humorous, but it had turned into a classroom of laughter. I may have just been a sensitive teenager, but it felt as though the whole room was laughing at me. It felt as though one of my biggest fears was something being taken as a joke by my closest peers. I got up and left the class.
In a class titled, Social Justice, we discussed some pretty touchy topics, that was the whole purpose of the class. One day, we were covering the topic of adoption. A student right next to me gave a very strong opinion against adoption. This is where a tricky line is drawn. Freedom of speech is a great thing, and we shouldn’t change our opinion because someone else may disagree with us. However, I am a child of adoption and I was sitting right next to this vocal student. She stated, “I think everyone should have their own children. It is weird that people would raise someone else’s kid. Those kids were put in the orphanage for a reason, probably something wrong with them. I wouldn’t want that child in my home. Plus, they have a lot of psychological issues”. Everything she said she was completely entitled to. But where on Earth did an 18-year-old form such strong opinions of orphans? My heart broke to think that she would think this of such a helpless class of people. And I couldn’t help but feel hurt personally. If not for my adoption I would not have lived. I did come with a lot of baggage, but I also have been able to make a difference in the lives of my family members as well as my bigger community.
College and adulthood have turned out to be far less ridicule-filled. I believe the reasoning behind this is two-fold. Amputees have more of a presence on television, and I have become more comfortable in my carbon. When I was a kid, other kids would shout out, “robot leg”, in a very negative nature. I have since been called robot leg by kids (in my adult life) and they said it in an amazed tone. I feel like people’s perspectives have changed, but then again, so has mine.
As a child, I was always on the defense. Almost to the point where I became offensive. I would glare at someone who I thought may have been staring at my leg. I was so used to having to defend myself that I began to assume the worst in people. In first grade, my teacher decided at the beginning of the year to let me explain my leg to the other students. It was like a show-and-tell, but for my artificial body part. The kids felt like they had a better understanding and were kinder.
I seemed to forget this over the years and worked so hard to cover my leg. Once I decided to shed the cosmetic cover, I felt a sense of comfort. I wasn’t hiding anything anymore. I wasn’t ashamed of who I was or what I was and I think others took note. They saw confidence!
“No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.”
― Eleanor Roosevelt
First of all a brilliant article! I know you had many challenges as a child, I really think most children do. You can’t compare the bullying and discrimination from one person to another. They’re all bad. I grew up in a part of Alaska where all the children were either much older or much younger than me. The older kids always found something to pick on me for. The bus ride to school in Elementary class an older boy would sit behind me and punch me in the back of the head. He was a classic bully but I believe he was just acting out what he was taught in his home life. The strong pick on the weak.
One of the most traumatic things in my childhood that I remember, my father was a teaser he used to frustrate me to the point where I would shout out “stop making fun out of me” apparently that was hilarious because they would laugh even more every time I said it. It absolutely destroyed me inside.
That’s probably when I turned into an introvert. Don’t stand up for yourself! Hold everything and bury it deep inside for as long as possible.
It’s difficult to fit everything in… Trying to just give the foundation of Who You Are. As soon as I try to start explaining… my mind fragments into 1000 splinters, those thousand splinters splinter into another thousand splinters… I am way off topic.
Discriminating the Disabled:
January 12th 2020 I received a phone call from the woman at the Coumadin Clinic I go to to get my blood tested to see if I’m at the right level for my blood thinner.
This woman has always been polite and courteous to me over the past few years. She was asked by Graves Gilbert Clinic her boss that when I come back in on my next visit in March that I do not bring my service dog with me. My dog is my mobile assist service dog, he keeps me on my feet. He is my living breathing crutch cane or a walker.
I wish I would have recorded the phone call. She asked that I not bring my service dog in because several other people have called and complained that he makes them feel nervous or uncomfortable. Several!
We come in we park at least a 100 yards from the building, the parking is absolutely horrendous. I get out of my truck with my dog. I hang on to the harness and he keeps me and my balance within an acceptable range of not hitting the pavement LOL. We walk through the sliding glass doors in the entrance. At this point I am greeted by a most friendly kind-hearted and beautiful woman one of the greeters. I walk up to the sign that says wait here for the next available representative… Buddy sits down or lays down at my feet. When it is our turn I walk up he sits or lays. We make a cash transaction for my medical services and I go and sit down and Buddy lays down. 15 minutes tops I’m in getting my blood tested where Buddy sits or lays down. 5 minutes tops we are out the front door.
We were there five days earlier for an appointment and she was complimenting Buddy on how well behaved he was.
It really bothered me that they would make this kind hearted woman give me this phone call. They should have had one of their attorneys call me. I apologized and said I would contact my attorney and the people at the American Disabilities Act. I did both.
I’m not that scared little boy anymore I am a scared 56 year old man who is pissed off and angry. Have you ever seen Gran Torino with Clint Eastwood? Get off my lawn kid!