Today I attended a conference largely aimed at parents of children with a particular condition. The specific condition doesn’t matter here. The information sheet handed out about the agency that sponsored the conference, an agency which, I might add, does a lot of great things, wrote that this condition is “one of the most devastating of all”
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That book meant a lot to me because... _Karen_ was all about therapy and miraculous recovery. How she learned to walk, and learned to walk up stairs and how she learned to write.
And then _With Love From Karen_ was largely about the price of that being very, very high. And their decision to stop therapy. And the book ends with her deciding not to walk anymore.
I didn't understand why that meant so much to me. I do now.
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(I think insisting that she learn to write before letting her get a typewriter was much less defensible though.)
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And both things still happen now. Well, for typewriter, substitute computer/iPAD/dictation software. But yes.
And as badly as Karen got hurt, I suspect she fared better than many many of her agemates with disabilities because her parents generally made a good faith effort to consider her as a whole person. They even sought the input of disabled adults - something we still have difficulty getting most parents to do.
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(I find it helps, to feel like an anthropologist. Amusingly, sociology is actually closer to being my disciplinary home than anthropology is, although i find they have much overlap.)
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Thanks for the rec - sounds like something i would like to read.
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It just helps me to remember that frustrating people have been successfully enculurated.
And that part of belonging to a dominant culture is the privilege of not realizing your views come from culture at all but rather seeing your views as The Truth.
And that I only noticed the enculturation process because I had previously been involved with disability culture
All of this restrains me to using my - admittedly sometimes patronizing - teacher voice, rather than screaming, when I attempt advocacy. . .
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