End the R Word — And the Attitude
posted Wednesday March 4th, 2015
I don’t hear it so much anymore, so I was surprised.
“I’m so retarded!” a brand-new employee said the other day, struggling to open a door with a new key card. We were coming back from lunch, and as we walked to the security office to get the key card, I’d winced a little, thinking about how colorful my own language had been over tacos and iced tea. This girl had barely said crap. (Literally — that’s the only off-color thing I’d heard.)
But she had no problem ripping loose with the R word. Usually that’s when I whip out my phone to show off pictures of Sophie. It was the girl’s first day; I let it go, sighing as I returned to my desk.
People aren’t using the R word so much anymore — not around me, anyway. And that’s good. But it’s not enough. Not using that word is only a start. The other night, a dear old friend made a reference to “special needs” — and not in a good way. I didn’t say anything. I didn’t have to — I heard her voice catch on the other end of the phone and winced myself, upset that she was uncomfortable.
We all do it, all the time. I do it, despite attempts to be aware. As a journalist I’m not super down with the word police. But I worry about what our words say about our thoughts and intentions, corny as that sounds.
Not so long ago, a guy I know was doing PR for the local Special Olympics chapter — until he tweeted a joke about special ed. The response was swift and firm — Jason Rose no longer has the bragging rights of working on behalf of the kids with special needs that he dissed.
In a perfect world, we’d all be so swift to respond. And we’d all have as much clout.
Before I had Sophie, the R word was one-dimensional, a meaningless put down. Down syndrome, special needs, special ed — all terms on paper. Sophie brings it all to life for me, and I figure my — our — small contribution is bringing it all to life for others, too. Hence the Facebook status updates, the Instagram photos, the blog posts, the radio commentaries, and the occasional newspaper story, when I can convince my boss.
In-person introductions work pretty well, too. I think I’ll bring Sophie to the office next week during Spring Break.
If it’s any consolation, I am surrounded by teenagers every day, and I rarely hear them fling this word around any more. In fact, just yesterday, I shared with my entire school one kid’s writing, a review of The Four Agreements, because it served as a powerful reminder to me, a gossip and a snark. He (Luis) talked about the power of words and how we start to believe insults and view ourselves and the world differently. He wrote: “Words are like dark spells that can’t be taken off a person. People who put these dark spells are also under the spell, and they keep passing it on because they believed what people said to them and they need help.” Pretty much anymore, the only really valuable lessons I learn about getting by in this world come from kids. Thanks, Luis. Thanks, Sophie.
Thank you, Trish.