Part of my sabbatical proposal this year was to work with students with disabilities. I have been working for 3 months with three kids who are non-verbal, helping their teachers to set up a homemade version of a picture exchange communication system (PECs). The boy that I am working with has made huge gains, turns out he loves listening to música and will follow almost any communication demand in order to get 30 seconds of a little Enrique Iglesias. To be fair, so would I.
The two girls have had more challenges. I thought they were just progressing slowly, moving along at their own pace, and I was fine with that. But I was off for a week when the Greenville group came down, and I am pretty sure they had a whole week of tranquillo (chillin'). When I came back, one of the girls had completely forgotten not just what we had done for 3 months, but also forgot who I even was- that didn't feel great. The other girl certainly remembered me, in fact she took one look at me and literally ran away. Like out the door and across the schoolyard as far from me as she could physically move her body. To be fair, if it was between me and tranquillo, I would probably run too.
I know them, which means I also know their stories. They have families and a future and dignity. They have struggles, but they also have strengths and successes. They are grateful for what they have, but they are also angry and sad, and frustrated with the injustice that they live with every day. And all of those things are a part of their complex identity. And that identity is explicitly attached to their face- and at the same time impossible to tell with their face. So... their faces, simply aren't mine to share. It would be an objectification:
The two girls have had more challenges. I thought they were just progressing slowly, moving along at their own pace, and I was fine with that. But I was off for a week when the Greenville group came down, and I am pretty sure they had a whole week of tranquillo (chillin'). When I came back, one of the girls had completely forgotten not just what we had done for 3 months, but also forgot who I even was- that didn't feel great. The other girl certainly remembered me, in fact she took one look at me and literally ran away. Like out the door and across the schoolyard as far from me as she could physically move her body. To be fair, if it was between me and tranquillo, I would probably run too.
I wanted to share this experience, as I have shared many of my experiences on here. But I have struggled with this post because I am uncomfortable putting pictures of the faces of these sweet kiddos online. In fact, if you look back at all my posts this year, I haven't posted any pictures of our family serving people who are living in the margins online.
- It is not because they don't exist-- they do.
- It is not because they aren't a critical element of our year-- they are.
- It is not because they aren't beautiful-- oh my glory, they are gorgeous.
- It is not because I wouldn't love to be cast into a role of serving those 'less fortunate than me--- I actually love that feeling and nothing makes me feel more amazing than showing off a picture of me next to a kid in a wheelchair.
I know them, which means I also know their stories. They have families and a future and dignity. They have struggles, but they also have strengths and successes. They are grateful for what they have, but they are also angry and sad, and frustrated with the injustice that they live with every day. And all of those things are a part of their complex identity. And that identity is explicitly attached to their face- and at the same time impossible to tell with their face. So... their faces, simply aren't mine to share. It would be an objectification:
- We love to look at the faces of people with disabilities and make them one dimensional: the kid with Down Syndrome who is ALWAYS happy (he isn't) ALL the kids with autism who can count a pile of toothpicks instantly (some can't, actually most can't, can we stop it with the toothpicks?) the kid with muscular dystrophy who is ALWAYS grateful (she isn't, oh believe me, she isn't).
- We love to look at the faces of people with disabilities to feel good about ourselves: The sacrificial servant coming down from the United States to save these kids from their poverty and disability. It is a narrative that makes us feel good, but them less. It just feels wrong now. I have been working with these kids for 3 months, do I really think I am saving them more than their teachers who have been here for YEARS and will continue to be here for YEARS. Their teachers know their families, their communities, their history, and oh by the way, their language! Who exactly do I think I am? They don't run away from their teachers (well they do sometimes... see complex). These teachers have earned the right to post selfies with them, I haven't.
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