Can we get retarded for a second?
Okay, that was crass (yes, I do realize how offensive that word is and no, it is not a part of my every day vocabulary, but it’s the chorus of the song I quoted above and I’m trying to build a theme, here, so give me a break and take your complaints to the Black Eyed Peas) but seriously, I really do want to talk about mentally handicapped people. I really want to ask a tough question and I want someone to answer me honestly.
Here’s the thing: mentally challenged people, for the most part, make me happy. Unlike some folks, I’m not uncomfortable around them, I don’t pity them, they don’t make me sad about the unfairness of life, blah blah blah. They make me smile. I like them. Maybe it’s their implied innocence that I find so charming? Or the fact that they process things at such a basic level, and honesty is one of my favorite qualities? I’m not sure what it is about them that I find so enjoyable, but I like being around them.
The other day, I met a handicapped kid, maybe 19 years old, who is employed by one of the hospitals I work for, running the office supply “store” (a supply closet, really, but for the entire hospital). He was hired through a regional program that helps mentally challenged people find jobs. My assignment was to take a photo of him for an employee newsletter story about the store. He was cute. It was fun. The next day, I saw him at a different hospital within my system–apparently, he had only been training at the first hospital so that he could run the second hospital’s store all on his own. When I saw him the second day in a row, he was wearing the same outfit (bright red polo shirt, high-waisted pants with a belt), his hair looked the same and he had the same 
expression on his face (vague boredom). He did not wave at me, nor did we greet each other–I highly doubt he remembered me. But I remembered him, and seeing him made me happy. Good for him, running a new store by himself! I thought. I hope he likes his job. Maybe I should go in there and buy something, to give him a customer.
One of the greatest moments of my life, no joke, happened when Adam and I were volunteering with the Minnesota Special Olympics. We were stacking up chairs at the end of the day when an athlete, maybe 15 years old, walked by with his family. He patted my on the back, looked at me earnestly and said, “You’re doing a great job.” I actually started crying (though I hid it well), because how fricking amazing is it for a Special Olympian to take time from his day to tell me, a random volunteer, that I’m doing a great job?! The heart in that kid is two sizes too big!
So, here’s my question: is my attitude patronizing? Am I being disrespectful to handicapped people by taking joy in their presence? Is that, like, reverse discrimination, somehow? Is it a sort of prejudice? If the Special Olympian who thanked me had been a “regular” Olympian instead, would his comment have meant as much to me–and if not, is that disrespectful? Is it unfair for me to make a blanket statement like “Mentally handicapped people make me happy,” in the same way that it’s inappropriate to say things like, “Asians are good at math” or “All black people can dance”?
I honestly don’t know! And it’s distressing! The last thing I want is to be a bigoted, biased person. Although, if you’re prejudiced in favor of something (instead of against it), how could that be a bad thing? Still, it feels weird to admit that for the most part, mentally handicapped people make me happy — not because of what they do or say, but because of who they are– for reasons I don’t fully understand.
Any guidance on this matter would be much appreciated. Trolls need not apply–I don’t need your lectures or your tsk-tsking. I’m being honest, here, and pouring out my heart in the hope that someone can help me understand it.
Somewhat-related note: here’s this, which I find totally amazing.
I haven’t had real close contact with a mentally handicapped person, but I kind of see them as anyone else in terms of being unique.
By that I mean that some of them are very nice and very friendly and some of them can be grumpy and some of them can be crass or rude. Just as any person can be that you meet in your daily life. Generally, I don’t really look at them as a group of people just on the street and think, “awww, I love them,” unless I had some interaction with them and they did something that gave me that impression. I mean I would think that way if anyone was super nice to me. Because even thought they have learning disabilities, they still have very distinct personalities and likes/dislikes. They can be raised by totally different parenting styles and have different experiences.
However, I find them very awe inspiring, as I find ANYONE who has any type of handicap and can still live in the world regularly and even have major successes that I would never dream of having.
Just my thoughts!
My cousin is retarded (that’s what he’s always been called). He has PKU, which is an inability to breakdown proteins. Both parents have to have the gene and babies are tested now – the heel poke they get. A vegetarian diet helps keep him from regressing but he’s still like a 2nd grader. Only he lives in his own apartment, holds down a job, has a girlfriend (he had a vasectomy) and takes care of himself. When he needs to go somewhere one of his siblings or my aunt or uncle picks him up. I have always had a soft spot for mentally handicapped people, and I always hated to see them made fun of. I cannot STAND people using the word retarded offhandedly. RICK is retarded, not that kid who just did something stupid. Rick amazes me with what he does, though with heavy monitoring. My nephew is “special needs,” missing a part of a chromosome. He reads better than his brother did at his age and hes very musical. He IS different. He’s impulsive, repetitive, and low muscle town amongst a plethora of other problems. He’s not retarded but he’s another reason why I resent that word being used incorrectly. Heather, he makes me cry once a month. Because of his ‘disability’ he is constantly telling us all we are beautiful and he loves us. You’ve read my post about him, right?
If you haven’t, you must go here and at the very least watch the video at the end. He videoed himself in the motorhome when everyone was outside. THIS summarizes my beautiful ‘special’ nephew.
http://kimpugliano.com/special
My uncle is.. I’m not really sure what my family calls him. He had a very high fever as a child and it wasn’t taken care of soon enough from what I understand. We don’t ever really address the fact that he is different from everyone else. No one says retarded, at least I can’t think of anyone saying it out loud. It feels harsh to say, I think it’s just the way the word has been used and it feels so old fashioned.
He owns a house, has a job, has a girlfriend. He doesn’t drive and stress makes him ill. Sometimes just a family get together or a giant thunderstorm will make him physically ill. He has social workers that check in on him and the local family members keep tabs too. His sisters have opinions on the friends he has and we never really see his girlfriend even though that have been dating a looong time. Sometimes when we go over he has math work sheets on his fridge that he had completed. I helped him redecorate in home, showing him a wall of paint samples is useless, he’ll like them all.
If someone called him retarded I would probably cringe. Calling him mentally handicapped is weird, it feels weird coming out of my mouth. It’s just Uncle Marvin. He’s always been that way. Playing the “why are you hitting yourself” game with the nieces and nephews (he doesn’t know his own strength, it can get rough), always asking “wanna take it outside?” while showing a fist (he always asks it over and over until you say, “sure, meet me out there”).
I wouldn’t say seeing him makes me automatically happy, or that he inspires me anymore than my other relatives. But I know I would be very sad if he left us. There’s no drama with him, he doesn’t care about your political affiliations. He loves hanging out with Morgan and I am not afraid of letting him feed him or hold him. I know he loves Morgan and someday will play the “why are you hitting yourself?” game with him, probably more rough that he intends, but what the hell?
I guess every mentally challenged, handicapped, retarded person is different. Their families are different. My family is very Minnesotan about the whole thing. We all know he’s different, we don’t talk about, we don’t make a big deal about it. Maybe we should, I don’t know. Maybe it’s generational. Maybe if Marvin would have been born 10 years ago in the city versus 50 years ago on the farm we would see him different. Maybe with 7 kids and a dairy farm no one looked at him hanging out in the pig barn, talking to them and feeding them slowly, as magical or special. It was just irritating because there was list of chores to do and here’s the little brother wasting time with the animals. Of course this is all me making assumptions and musings off of what bits and pieces I’ve heard from family members.
On a seperate, but related note. I’ve taken cake orders for disabled people in the store. They come from the group home or with family to order their cake. And like it is with any person some are happy people AND it’s their birthday. They make me happy that I get to make them a cake for their big day. They come in to get it on their day, all dressed up, a big button perhaps, and their Captain America cake (which took me 10 minutes) is a dream. And some are just cranky dicks.
I guess I don’t think it’s weird that the mentally disabled make you happy, Heather. Everyone has some group of people that they.. get along with? feel comfortable with?. That’s why some people work in nursing homes (I could never do it, I can’t go in those places without feeling bummed out). And some people would think I’m insane for wanting to take a van load of 15 year old girls camping for 5 days.
sorry, that got long. And now I return your blog back to you.
I don’t think you are being patronizing at all.
My dad volunteered for years at camp for mentally disabled people, both youth and adults. I had never seen him do any volunteer work like that before, especially anything with kids. He absolutely loved it because, he said, the campers loved everyone unconditionally. They didn’t judge people, and they were funny and thoughtful and honest. My dad is extremely un-PC, so he uses terms like “retarted” or whatever and I’m not sure how the camp staff liked that.
I have done a little bit of volunteering with mentally disabled people. The one that comes to mind is a “prom” for teens/young adults. It was the cutest thing ever. It was what prom should really be about — putting on a pretty dress or a tux and having a romantic time dancing with someone you like. It wasn’t about looking like a hooker and getting wasted and hooking up. I digress.