The Need for More Education About Disabilities for Kids

One Friday last fall I stopped by a good friend’s house to drop off a birthday gift for his daughter. She’s a budding soccer phenom so I got her a gear bag for her soccer ball and equipment, which had one diagonal sling strap rather than the typical two shoulder strap variety. My friend also told me that I shouldn’t get her a pink colored bag because she’s become quite the serious jock and would be embarrassed to take it to practice and games.

Between the strange look of the bag (which I thought was cool), the discussion about the color pink, her being squirrely because she was having a friend sleep over, and part of a side conversation with her friend I didn’t catch, she suddenly did a swinging limp armed karate chop to her chest combined with an audible “Unnn,” which back when I was a kid was a gesture you did to indicate that someone was saying or doing something stupid. But more specifically that gesture was essentially synonymous with someone “being retarded.” Of course, any number of disabilities could get supplemented instead but it still doesn’t take away from the fact that it’s an offensive gesture with a hurtful and derogatory meaning behind it.

But it was shocking for two reasons: First, was that she did it in front of someone who has a disability; although at her age she’s probably too young to truly grasp the inappropriateness of that. Second—and more shocking—is that over two decades later that gesture is still being commonly used amongst elementary and middle school age kids, and I was honestly blown away by that fact. In an era where inappropriate words, labels, and gestures—especially those related to race, religion, sexual preference, disability, etc.—have been swallowed up one by one by the PC wave in increasing fashion I am surprised and disappointed that particular gesture has somehow survived.

My take on that is that it speaks to the continued lack of education and proper etiquette training about disabilities amongst children. It seems like by the time most kids reach adulthood they’ve hardly been exposed to anything disability related, save for isolated personal encounters, and as a result they are not set up to properly deal with every day disability encounters along the way. Instead, kids and other people with disabilities as a whole are more often than not seen as weird, different, and subject to ridicule.

So how do we go about turning the tide? Well, I say that a call for more books for kids that feature characters with disabilities is a good start. The topic of books that teach children about disabilities has already been posted about on the EasyStand Blog, albeit briefly, but if readers will indulge the slight redundancy I think this is an important issue that is worth further discussion. Because if I’ve learned anything from my niece and nephew it’s that books are one of the most effective teaching tools for young kids.

This list of books for children about disabilities that was linked on this blog last year is still a pretty good resource. It not only lists books about a variety of disabilities but it groups them off by school ages. But identifying good books for parents to share with their kids is just a start. I think the key element necessary to breed some real positive change is to incorporate books about disabilities into school curriculums so that it plants the seed of disability awareness on a wider and more uniform basis. That way it will leave a lasting impact in two ways: 1) it will teach kids that people with disabilities can be seen as normal, and 2) it can give kids with disabilities role models to identify with.

As was the premise of my last guest post, I’ve seen both sides of this lack of disability education in my lifetime. Growing up I never had any exposure to disability related issues, not in school, Sunday school, my home book/video library, etc. My first regular contact with someone with a disability was in middle school with a girl who used a wheelchair. I don’t recall feeling weird around her and I never ridiculed her in any way, but I’m sure I made the same “Watch my toes!” and “You’re lucky you get to ride on the elevator” comments that make me cringe when I hear them now. Had I had more of a disability related educational background I probably would have known better to hold my tongue. In plenty of other situations along the way I probably would have refrained from pointing or staring at others who are different as well.

On the other side of the coin are my experiences returning to high school my senior year after I was discharged from rehab for my SCI. I went from one of the more well-known students in my grade with an active social life to a virtual outcast amongst my peers. I was rarely included in regular social functions in or outside of school and was given a fairly wide, unapproachable birth in general because many people were unsure how to interact with me. Two of my then good friends even made “a pact” to never talk about me or my accident when they hung out. All things considered, that was one of the hardest and loneliest periods of my life. But had my generation had more of a disability educational base I’d like to think that I might have been seen as more normal and approachable. The fact that a number of people I graduated with have since told me they wanted to talk to me much more regularly and hang out with me back then but weren’t sure how further illustrates my point.

Because I’m the kind of guy who practices what I preach, over the last few months I’ve put some pretty serious thoughts together about writing a children’s book about disability of my own. My working title is “(Nephew’s name*) and (Niece’s name*) Help Uncle Shawn” which will be directly based on my interactions with my niece and nephew. The premise will be to shed light on a variety of ways that kids can help and interact with someone who uses a wheelchair, specifically someone with SCI, in normal every day settings. The trick is coming up with enough ideas to fill a whole book and getting hooked up with a quality illustrator. But I’m excited by the challenge and maybe it will even help shape a positive outlook on disabilities to a new generation of kids. And if in its own way it helps lead to the elimination of the gesture I mentioned at the top, then that would be a nice bonus.

*Names withheld because I’m an over-protective uncle.

Do kids need more education about disabilities? How do you help teach children about disability etiquette?

Photo Credit: Brandi Jordan