Delicate Threads, Debbie Staub, PhD
And there are moments that still haunt me. I was around 7 or 8 years of age, attending a church potluck. A young fellow came up to me and complimented me on the blouse I was wearing. When I looked confused, he repeated himself calmly and clearly. Uncertain of how to respond, I giggled nervously. I think I did manage to eek out a "thank you" before turning to my friends and giggling again. The thing was this - this young man had Down's Syndrome. I felt embarrassed, uncomfortable, all together unsure of what to say or do.
I still cringe at my insensitivity and ignorance. If I could turn back the clock, this is honestly one moment I would go back and do all over again.
I would take the time to smile.
I would embrace the opportunity to meet someone new.
I would say "thank you" and truly mean it.
I would not let my own insecurities get in the way of appreciating someone else.
The topic of friendship, especially in regards to our children, is one that is near and dear to my heart. It is something we pray about often - not only that our girls would find true friends, but that they would grow to become loyal and trustworthy friends. Underlying all those emotions at the beginning of this journey, it was a fear that I struggled with intensely without really even knowing it at first. Those who are "different" in any way are at a greater risk for abuse, neglect, isolation and loneliness. Friendships are harder to forge, even harder to maintain.
Consequently, it took me a while to get through this one. (And, admittedly, I went through a few Kleenex too.) The author blends observations with her thesis research, and there are many questions (with no straightforward answers), a few good insights and a few suggestions that are helpful for those who find themselves nurturing those who take a little longer to learn life's skills.
Particularly helpful for me was the distinction between "rejected" and "neglected." Children with disabilities are not necessarily rejected, when communicates "you are not wanted" but they are often "neglected." Overlooked. Ignored. They can't run as fast, speak as well, communicate as clearly. Their behaviors can sometimes seem bizarre and disconcerting. Communication requires extra intentionality and, I think, a special sensitivity.
According to Staub, reciprocal friendships between typical and non-typical learners are definitely possible, especially in the earlier years. In fact, it was often because of adult intervention that these unique relationships met an earlier end than they otherwise might have. Concerns such as expecting the typical-learning friend to constantly be the "helper" in the relationship or by an unhealthy focus on a particular "disability" add unnecessary pressure and frustration. There is also the tendency to unintentionally pass along negative attitudes, such as "helping the handicapped" mentality, not allowing the non-typical learner the space and time required to do their work and consequently doing too much for them, or perpetuate the assumption that people with disabilities are objects of pity (which they are not!).
Staub reminds parents, educational staff, therapists and other involved adults to create opportunities for typical and non-typical learners to come together and base relationship on shared story, a sense of "I know what you mean." Many children, regardless of their abilities, can relate to being in a situation that felt overwhelming, thrilling, scary, challenging, etc. As we learn to communicate with all children involved, our friendships become centered on how we're similar, not just on how we're different.
There were many good points in this book, not just for children with disabilities, but principles that apply to all levels of friendships. I'd say it's a good read; more technical than some, but with good insights. Not necessarily a MUST READ, but a good one.
No comments:
Post a Comment