Tuesday, May 11, 2004
Wearing red shorts and a small sleeveless shirt, she walks pointedly around my neighborhood. Each day she takes what seems to be the same path; her pace is so precise on both trips (she makes the one block-by-one block loop twice) that watching her is almost hypnotic. Her face is steady and blank and her mouth is slightly parted as her tongue rests slightly on her lower lip. She has Downs Syndrome.
I was never taught how to interact/associate with mentally/physically handicapped people. Over the years, I have learned how to deal with “mean” people and “nice” people, “loud” people and “shy” people, etc. But I somehow missed the lesson(s) where I learn how to associate respectfully with someone whose general mental capacity is severely hampered for whatever reason. Maybe that is why I’m unable to understand my feeling when I come across this sort of person.
A few nights ago, PBS ran a somewhat strange show. I missed the first part, but from the lighting and setting used, I could tell it was a relatively low-budget production. Apparently the show centered on the life of two sisters. One sister was a fully functioning “normal” person who cared for her physically handicapped sister. The handicapped sister seemed to be mentally fine, but her speech was severely slurred, one arm was in a semi-paralyzed state, and she shook violently as she walked with her feet turned slightly inward. She is the sort of person that one would instantly notice if she walked into the room. (I suspect most eyes would quickly look, evaluate, and gaze away quickly so as not to appear to be starring.)
So these sisters seemed about the same age, mid-30s, and when I said the one sister “cared” for the other, I mean that in a loose sense. The handicapped sister was fiercely independent, to such a degree in fact that she began writing poetry to a young man who worked behind a counter of a coffee shop the two sisters frequented. Understandably insecure, the poet-sister wrote anonymously. To make a long story short, her identity was revealed and a conversation between her and the man ensued.
“You were disappointed?” She asked him. He tells her that he was a little; she understands. But he also added that he would like her to keep writing and he wants to get to know her better but can’t promise anything more than a friendship will come of it. She accepted this graciously.
Perhaps I turned the channel for a moment and missed a few seconds because the next scene – the final scene in the show – had the onetime physically handicapped sister suddenly “normal.” Her walk was normal; she had control of her entire body and was no longer shaking uncontrollably. She walked into the coffee shop and smiles at the man behind the counter; he smiles back.
I didn’t know what to make of this. Was this a dream sequence, the first part of which I had missed in those brief seconds? Or was this part fantasy? But clearly the suggestion was that these two people will now get together because one person basically changed her “look.” I don’t know if that’s the best message to send, but I don’t think anyone could argue that it isn’t reality.
So I occasionally watch the young girl circling the block in my neighborhood and wonder if she is lonely. Perhaps she, like the one sister on the program, longs for someone she sees each day. Maybe he’s the grocery clerk at Albertson’s or a kid down the street.
And as one thought often leads to another, I wonder how I would react under similar circumstances as the coffee shop guy. It's then that I'm confronted with my own insecurities and the reality: How could I react any differently?
I was never taught how to interact/associate with mentally/physically handicapped people. Over the years, I have learned how to deal with “mean” people and “nice” people, “loud” people and “shy” people, etc. But I somehow missed the lesson(s) where I learn how to associate respectfully with someone whose general mental capacity is severely hampered for whatever reason. Maybe that is why I’m unable to understand my feeling when I come across this sort of person.
A few nights ago, PBS ran a somewhat strange show. I missed the first part, but from the lighting and setting used, I could tell it was a relatively low-budget production. Apparently the show centered on the life of two sisters. One sister was a fully functioning “normal” person who cared for her physically handicapped sister. The handicapped sister seemed to be mentally fine, but her speech was severely slurred, one arm was in a semi-paralyzed state, and she shook violently as she walked with her feet turned slightly inward. She is the sort of person that one would instantly notice if she walked into the room. (I suspect most eyes would quickly look, evaluate, and gaze away quickly so as not to appear to be starring.)
So these sisters seemed about the same age, mid-30s, and when I said the one sister “cared” for the other, I mean that in a loose sense. The handicapped sister was fiercely independent, to such a degree in fact that she began writing poetry to a young man who worked behind a counter of a coffee shop the two sisters frequented. Understandably insecure, the poet-sister wrote anonymously. To make a long story short, her identity was revealed and a conversation between her and the man ensued.
“You were disappointed?” She asked him. He tells her that he was a little; she understands. But he also added that he would like her to keep writing and he wants to get to know her better but can’t promise anything more than a friendship will come of it. She accepted this graciously.
Perhaps I turned the channel for a moment and missed a few seconds because the next scene – the final scene in the show – had the onetime physically handicapped sister suddenly “normal.” Her walk was normal; she had control of her entire body and was no longer shaking uncontrollably. She walked into the coffee shop and smiles at the man behind the counter; he smiles back.
I didn’t know what to make of this. Was this a dream sequence, the first part of which I had missed in those brief seconds? Or was this part fantasy? But clearly the suggestion was that these two people will now get together because one person basically changed her “look.” I don’t know if that’s the best message to send, but I don’t think anyone could argue that it isn’t reality.
So I occasionally watch the young girl circling the block in my neighborhood and wonder if she is lonely. Perhaps she, like the one sister on the program, longs for someone she sees each day. Maybe he’s the grocery clerk at Albertson’s or a kid down the street.
And as one thought often leads to another, I wonder how I would react under similar circumstances as the coffee shop guy. It's then that I'm confronted with my own insecurities and the reality: How could I react any differently?
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