End the "R" Word

Mother's Day started out on a promise to be laid back and beautiful. A pre-Mothers Day celebration with my parents at a restaurant we love, followed by a warm bright lazy morning was enough to stretch into the day wide and slow, and feel the relief....but relief, in my world, is nothing but a tease.

It was supposed to be easy. A ride into a neighboring town for fresh bread, sea food, and Gabe's special bread, and then Gabe and I would finish off at our local grocery store for coldcuts and fresh fruit. Simple, right? It's never so simple.......

One of the employees behind the deli counter used to be Gabe's school bus driver when he started out in Just Kids, a Special Ed pre school. She would drive the bus during the summer program. Though it was years ago, he was only 4, she remembered us clearly. Gabe would get on the bus fully clothed and come off it completely naked. The matron spent the time collecting shoes and clothes and trying to get it back on. Gabe was non verbal at the time, and very hyper active. I was still trying to wrap my head around how to help my kid, and Will would wait for Gabe on the porch and run out to greet him the moment he spotted the bus. She remembered a flirty Carlos, seated on my hip, his wavy blondish tossled head of hair nestled in my neck , playing Peek a Boo through the strands of my hair...she remembered it all. I had filled her in on his progress, so when she saw Gabe, tall, fully clothed, handsome, loving, friendly and able to answer her questions, she was overwhelmed. She shared with a co-worker just how far he had come, and while we were all talking, the woman behind me snickered to her friend "if I had a kid like that I would have shot myself in the head. I could not deal with a retard."

Instantly I felt everything rise in me. I think the anger might just have lifted me off the floor. Luckily, the lady before me that was still being helped, realized lovingly, as real mothers do, that she needed to engage my son, who was holding onto a red ball, in conversation and steered him towards her husband who was an eyeshot and earshot away with thier daughter so that he could play show and tell. She instinctively took care of my child so that I could handle the situation accordingly. Her order awaited her on the counter, and my wrath was waiting to be unleashed on the "woman" behind me. I will preface this by saying that it is my nature to be flexible, easy going, to the point of dancing on indecisive. I am a big believer in underdogs, being one myself, and I hate the idea of hurting anyones feelings.......BUT.....when something so horrific is said, especially in the presence of my child, who could have easily heard her, about my child who was doing nothing out of the ordinary (even if he was it wouldn't have mattered), who was engaged and connected with people who were genuinely happy to see him, and enjoyed him, every primal motherly fiber of my being was going to attack harshly, mercilessly, and as profanely creatively as possible. I was shaking too fiercely to retain any type of composure. While I was able to verbally take her down, with reprimands also being offered from the employees who have watched Gabe grow up, and a few other moms on line who were also offended because they know and love someone on the spectrum, her hate shattered me. She is not unique. I have heard parents refer to thier childrens actions as "retarded", I have heard other kids toss that word around like it was a ball. Gabe has in the past come to me to ask if he was stupid. While I believe the kids that have grown up with him for the most part have been wonderful, he is asking for a reason, and I question what must have been said, or implied.


What people do not seem to understand is that certain words are really not ok to use. I am tired of the "PC" backlash. Not everyone can protect themselves and fight back without the sting of the stigma, because there is a classification involved. And quite frankly I cannot get over the arrogance, the sense of entitlement and the overwhelming ignorance of our society in general to think that people who have intellectual or developmental disabilities do not understand what is being said, and the intent in which things are said, so it's ok to continue to berate them. it's always the intention behind the word. You're a "retard" is meant to degrade and isolate. It is offensive. period. And those that think that people like me are ridiculous for taking offense to it, have never ever wholeheartedly loved someone with a neurological, developmental, or an intellectual disability. Period. Those people have never taken the time to really be involved in the day to day therapies and work required and the courage it takes, the spirit it takes for our loved ones to not only navigate in a world not wired for them, but deal with the preconcieved and prejudicial assumptions that hinder them more than any disability ever could. We all carry words that have validated our insecurities, we all know what it's like to have negative thoughts stop us from being who we are. I cannot understand the need to defend the use of this word. And if it's to be used again ( as I know it most probably will) to dismiss my son or any child like him, fair warning, I will not hold back. As shattered as that experience left me on Mothers Day, my resolve is that much greater. Please join the movement. Our kids are aware. Our kids deserve better. They deserve RESPECT, HUMANITY,ACCEPTANCE, PASSION and UNITY.

End the "R" word.......replace it with HOPE......

Simple