For people who are Christians or who have attended church for any period of time, they may be familiar with a Biblical passage in I Peter, Chapter 2 verse 9, where the author broadly refers to folks who follow the teachings of Christ as peculiar people. I came across this passage during my own devotional time this week and realized that there are probably several folks who consider themselves peculiar, or through their lived experiences, realize that they have been perceived as peculiar.
Now, I’m not a Biblical scholar, but I do interpret this passage to be referring to folks who may not fit into the norm; this is very similar to what I blogged about last week on the experience of being “othered” (for more on that, visit the blog right below this one, entitled “Black, White, and ‘Other’”). But as I’ve spent time recalling my own experiences, sharing ideas with people closest to me (namely, my wife), and listening to the incredible stories of the fathers I’ve been interviewing, I don’t think it’s too much to assign this peculiar label to these fathers and their experiences. I say this because of a really consistent message I’ve heard from these guys. It's one that I’ve come to REALLY appreciate: It takes special parents to raise special needs children. I’m going to take the liberty and add peculiar here, too. Meaning, it takes special, and maybe peculiar, parents to be willing to confront their own feelings about their children being different than their peers in ways that may make their kids targets of potential ridicule or bullying. It takes special, and maybe peculiar, parents to attend IEP meetings and demand their children receive the services they need, deserve, and are entitled to by law when they may confront teachers and administrators who are not supportive because the empathy well has run dry. It takes special, and maybe peculiar, parents to subject themselves to stigmatizing behavior in public places – like being stared at in restaurants, shoe stores, clothing stores, carnivals – so they can create memories with their children while folks who may not appreciate it respond insensitively. Of course, there are days (thank you, Jesus! Or, you can thank whoever it is you thank) when parents of special needs kids don’t have to feel as special or as peculiar. I love hearing my wife share the story about the first time she went Autism Day at Sesame Place some years ago. You see, LaChan’s employment schedule lightened up during the summer because she’s a teacher. But, she would willingly assume the role of full-time homemaker during that time by engaging with our kids for the better part of those 8 weeks…under the condition we got a summer Sesame Place pass. A few days a week, she and friend would organize a play date and they would take all the kids to Sesame Place. They would usually report having a good time. But there were frequent days when she would also express some frustration about insensitive staff members or feeling a little stigmatized by other park guests who didn’t know the extent of our son’s needs. But then, Sesame Place instituted an Autism Day. On this day, parents and caregivers of kids with autism and other special needs could bring their kids to the park without the hustle and bustle of a typical summer day. Whenever she recants the story of taking our son to the park that day, the relief she expresses – even now – is palpable. You can literally see her “exhaling” as she talks about it. She calls that day, “The Day of No Apologies” and it moves me every time I think about it. I hope that as a member of this wonderful community of special needs parents and families, that I can continue moving toward being unapologetically peculiar. Have a great weekend! -mike
3 Comments
Renata
2/2/2013 09:17:23 am
Ironically, I remember our family taking annual summer trips to Sesame Place on their day for families with special needs children when I was a kid. I remember it being a day where we actually felt normal. Where we didn't get the constant stares and didn't feel like we had to spend most of our time "defending" our brother from the idiots. He was accepted and so were the other kids. What was beautiful was the looks that the parents and siblings would give each other, as if to say, "You're OK today...We're Normal today..."...felt great!
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Michael Hannon
2/2/2013 10:18:56 am
Yes, indeed. I remember being at sesame place on a day where it wasn't solely for special needs families and getting into a standoff with an older lifeguard about my son's flotation devices. It got a little...chippy.
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2/4/2013 06:50:13 am
Wonderful... We'll lift you peculiarly in prayer. :D
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AuthorI'm Mike. If you have an interest in mental health, family functioning, and disability advocacy, this blog may be of interest to you. Archives
January 2016
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