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| Tate and Sydney at the mall 12-19-14 |
Last evening as I walked
through the nearly empty mall with my two youngest, you five girls were behind
us by several yards. We had just seen a movie and were in great spirits. We were
walking to meet up with four of my older children. We stopped to take a photo, at one of those cutout scenes where you stick your faces through the holes. I caught sight of you as we took our photo, walking and giggling and having a
good time. I have had teenaged girls and know how much fun they can have
together in a mall. I noted to myself that you were a lively group but
certainly not threatening in any way. You were walking faster than we were and the gap between us was closing. I turned from snapping our photo and we continued down the hall.
My son fell behind a few steps as he was adjusting his earbuds. He was listening
to his music like a typically developing 13-year-old boy might do in a mall. Though
if you could have seen his playlist you would have realized he is not a
typically developing 13-year-old boy. He was probably listening to Disney tunes, the muppets, or a preschool sensation called The Fresh Beat Band. You probably did not
notice he was “different” until you saw him run a few steps to catch up to me.
He always runs on his toes with a very awkward gait; and I’m sure that a 6’3”
young man running on his toes looked pretty ridiculous to you. The mall was
empty enough for me to hear your innocent girlish giggling turn to that of a
contemptuous kind of laughter. I knew before I turned; but I could not stop
myself. I turned to look and saw one of you mocking my son. You were running on
your toes and flailing your arms. My son and his little sister kept walking, not
noticing that I had turned to look behind us. They both have special needs and
were oblivious to the change in my demeanor. I took about three steps back
toward you, and your forward pace slowed. I must have looked very intimidating
all of the sudden. I had gone from happy and quietly content to irate in a
fraction of a second. I can only imagine the look I had on my face as I took
those few steps toward you. I did see the looks on your faces. Your laughter
stopped. I saw guilt and I saw your faces redden with embarrassment. You were
caught. You thought you’d have your laugh at my son’s expense and we would not
notice. Or perhaps you did not care if we noticed, but you certainly did not
expect me to turn and call you out. I cannot remember my exact words but I
believe they were, “My son has autism. I sure hope you are not making fun of him.”
Your stuttering and stammering out, “We’re not. We’re not making fun of anyone.”
caused me to doubt myself for a split second; but then I remembered I had seen
one of you, the girl on the far left, copying my son’s movements while all five
of you laughed. I said no more, and turned back toward my kids and caught up to them, thankful
that my son had his headphones in and thankful that he probably would not have
understood much of our exchange if he had been listening anyway. As we all
continued down the hall I had to remind myself that all five of you are just
kids, probably very nice girls most of the time. One of you were impulsive
enough to make fun of the differences you saw in my son and the other four were
weak enough to go along with the joke. I had to remind myself that you all five
had families that love you as much as I love my children and you all five may
have issues of your own to deal with. And perhaps you really did believe that
making fun of someone else is just innocent fun and we would have no idea it
had even happened.
Perhaps you go to a school
where the kids with special needs are kept separate from you or perhaps it is
acceptable amongst your peers to laugh at their differences. We are from a
small town and my son Tate goes to a small school. He has peers who accept him
and do not make fun of the way he moves or talks. They know he is different and
help him to fit in. They do not laugh at him or belittle him. As a matter of
fact, had some of them been with him last night, they would have probably said
more to you about your behavior than I did.
I have to admit that I
have no idea if turning and calling you out was the right thing to do or not. I
did not know how to react. You see I have never seen anyone mock my son before.
In fact, in thirteen years I cannot remember him once being made fun of. Perhaps
there have been times and I have just not caught on like I did last night but I
like to think that you are the first. How does that make you feel? You broke a
thirteen-year streak for us.
If statistics prove true
and all five of you grow up to become mothers, chances are that one of you will
have a child or a grandchild with a disability. I do not wish that on your
child or grandchild, but if it happens, I actually hope that you get a
thirteen-year streak without bullying. As a matter of fact, I hope you have an
even longer one. And even more importantly I hope that if your son or daughter,
grandson or granddaughter, are ever bullied that you will not be able to think
back and remember the time that you yourself laughed at a child with a
disability and caused a mother pain. The burden might be too heavy for you to
bear.
If you would like to read more, try this post: Baldwin Bulldogs class of 2020
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| Tate age 12, Sydney age 10 |
