In fact, I'm so unfamiliar with the show that I don't even know which version of CSI I saw last night--Miami? New York? Clonakilty? But as I was going through the channels the sight of a woman in "Werewolf Syndrome" make-up caught my eye and I stopped to see what was going on. The woman was talking about how her brother, who had been murdered, was her only link to the world, and that she didn't know what she was going to do now. She had been living in a secret room in the house for her entire life. Her room was filled with dolls and dollhouses, and as I watched I couldn't help but think of my little girl and boy, whose autism essentially puts them in the same spot. What happens when I die? Who will take care of them? Who will protect them? There are so many people who are anxious to make fun of people who are different in any way, so many people who are ready to take advantage of or hurt those who can't defend themselves. It was the dolls that did it, though. Seeing them, it was impossible not to see Q., who takes her doll into the dining room so that it can converse with the cats under the table. I was overwhelmed with the sadness of it all. Of course, my wife will be there if I die 1, so it's not quite so dire as my emotions led me to believe, but the bigger question--why do we shun, mock, and injure those who are different?--remains painfully poignant. It made we wish that I could bring someone with this syndrome into my classroom and let kids see that underneath the extra hair there's a person just like them. And where would that list end? A long line of "different folks" did a line dance through my skull. A mentally retrarded man, a woman in a wheelchair, a Palestinian. And so on. All just people. All deserving of kindness, at the very least. I feel my greatest despair when I see a lack of kindness in the world. Why do people insist on giving each other shit? Isn't life hard enough without it?
1 Update: Or not. Oh the naive faith of a man in love.
2 comments:
no te preocupes, mi amor.
we are all the same face. we all have markers of difference; people must recognize themselves in recognizing difference. where one is more "normal" in one way, one is "different" in another. when we see one area of "difference," we ought really to see it as a mirror of ourselves.
people who fail to recognize this are wanting to hide their areas of "difference." they are to be pitied.
i am lucky to be married to a man who recognizes that differences are just mirrors. love you.
when are you going to post again?
i know you're busy and all, but i miss your thoughts!
post, post, post...
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