Disability? Handicap? Or Superpower?

One of my daughters is gifted at sign language.  After a recent class presentation, she and I discussed Audism, which is concerned with prejudice about and by the deaf.

"Mom," she began, "would you consider deafness a disability?"

Strictly speaking, of course, I had to say Yes: if someone lacks a particular ability, such as the capacity to hear, in that sense he is disabled. Still, a person may be born with a disability, but that does not mean he must choose to be handicapped, or hampered in his capacity to accomplish things and be happy. Wise parents and teachers will ever try to enable each of their children to function as fully as is possible, that they may accomplish the personal missions of their lives.

This is not going to be a rant on injustice to deaf people; I use this illustration to make a point about disability, and deafness is an obvious case, though it differs from many other disability situations on multiple levels.  There is, for example, a thriving Deaf Community -- which is a community in most imaginable senses:  the deaf have their own language and (therefore) a unique culture; they communicate and work together to make improvements for themselves and others whose challenges are similar; they have schools, churches, and cultural events; they have personal contact with translators and technology and other structural ways to interface with those who hear.  The deaf are pretty vocal about their challenges and I am not implying life is perfect for people who lack the ability to hear, for I understand that it is usually isolating to be deaf; I am personally unable to communicate well in sign language and struggle in my efforts to reach out meaningfully to people who cannot hear.  There are many evident ways in which the deaf need not be handicapped.

But there are other, less obvious, disabilities with which I am more familiar.  Some people are hampered by debilitating digestive or blood sugar issues, while others are in the crippling grip of fear, anger, or negativity.  As just one example, I have sons and other relatives who struggle with Autism challenges.  These are otherwise bright people whose social skills are impaired, sometimes painfully so.  Their challenges are often misunderstood, and so are their families':  whereas, if a deaf child behaves oddly, a signed exchange silently excuses much of it; if an otherwise "smart" or "healthy" autistic child misbehaves, it's more likely to be viewed as a parenting issue.  Autism can be even more isolating than deafness, for the social challenge of communication (combined with misunderstanding and trust challenges that seem pretty much inevitable) make a meaningful "community" difficult even to envision.

It is a parent's challenge to enable her "disabled" child to function and thrive, whatever the issues.  Usually this happens when she loves her child and can see him as "gifted."  And yes, each person has unique and beautiful gifts.

Years ago, when Autism was a fairly uncommon diagnosis, we came to understand that we needed help to teach our very bright son.  His diagnosis made him feel "branded," "broken," and "strange."  We tried to use his evaluation to understand his needs and to focus on ways to help him, rather than broadcast it to everyone.  We talked about the good parts of his character and his functionality, including his ability to hyperfocus and retain information about the subjects which interested him.  We gave him opportunities to study his passions and tried to structurally shield him from the isolation of electronics and other pitfalls that regularly afflict autistic boys and which we felt could hamper his ability and desire to interact meaningfully with others.  It has been a blessing that our children have each other, for they cannot withdraw socially!  Interestingly enough, during the first few minutes of the movie, Inside Out, he whispered to me that the heroine needed siblings.  How true.

We also talked about successful people who had autistic challenges -- and there are many!  One prominent researcher even goes so far as to say that some degree of Autism is a required ingredient in doing something big to change the world!  We tried to help our son see the upsides of his situation as personal superpowers that made him uniquely capable; and we (my husband was the insightful one who really shone at this) taught him to use his other evaluative talents to analyze social situations, much the way someone who struggles with math needs lots of patient repetition to function and succeed in his math and science courses, and to equip him to logically function in the world.

One afternoon provided an epiphany.  My husband received a computer message from a co-worker, inviting him to a meeting.  His co-worker had a Mac computer and everyone else had PCs; they did not have a suitable interface software and the message was garbled and long.  My husband showed a copy of the message to our son, asking him what had happened.  Our son, who understood something of computers, immediately recognized the problem and was able to decode the message.

"Which is better," my husband asked him, "a Mac or a PC?"  Our son responded that both have advantages, and that some people prefer Macs because of their capabilities, even though PCs were more common.

"If a person with a Mac wants to communicate with a person on a PC," my husband suggested, "whose job is it to make sure the interface software works?"  Our son shrugged his shoulders with the easy conclusion that Macs, with about a 10% market share, must bear the responsibility for communication.

"You are the Mac," my husband informed him.  "You can do some things better, but you must build the bridge for your own communication.  And when you do, others will be able to cross, too.  If you can effectively communicate with everyone, you can make the world better -- for everyone."

Further, after the idea had some time to simmer, my husband asked our son to hypothetically consider whether, if he could choose, he would want to abandon his "superpowers" for a chance to be "normal," without his autistic tendencies.  Only a little thought led him to the conclusion that he would prefer himself as he is.  I was amazed.

How have things worked out?  We are still working -- and I have other rodeos.  But recent job interviews have had remarkable outcomes for this "socially-challenged" child.  His interest and ability to research leads him to often know more about a company's stated mission and focus than his interviewers.  His analytical ability helps him to perceive and outline hazards in social situations that many would miss.  And he has been remarkably successful in multiple tests of his ability to interact with and relate to strangers.

How does a mother change the world?  By daily acts.  Through reminders and patience -- even though she has said it a thousand times already.  We all have some sort of disability, but it doesn't have to become a handicap -- and if Mom can frame it properly, she is discovering and nurturing a Superpower.


Interpreter photo from San Diego Community.  
Other photos from sxc.hu.  Used courtesy of Griszka Niewiadomski, Leanne Rook, and Andy Duran.