We were watching a pair of documentaries on television about the world's tallest man and woman yesterday, which Schuyler and I both found fascinating. It sparked a surprising dialogue.
I've always had a morbid fascination with people who suffer from gigantism, ever since my own freakish growth spurt in fifth grade, which sent me from being a normal, even slightly smallish kid to a 5'11", size 11 shoe-wearing monster who towered over most of my classmates by the next year. I had no way of knowing that I was only two inches away from my eventual adult height. I thought it was the beginning of the end for me. In my mind, I was going to be one of the tall, lonely people detailed in the Guinness Book of Records, shambling around sadly with a cane and a crowd of onlookers, waiting for my giant heart to fail. I'm not kidding, it was a very real fear for me.
I don't think Schuyler has any such fear. She is getting tall, but not unusually so, and probably only to my eyes since she was a tiny little infant, what, like two weeks ago? I understand the inevitability of Time and its steady march, but with a bad birthday coming up, I feel a little like that march is happening right over my face. And Time might just be wearing rollerblades.
The documentaries we watched discussed the inevitability of unwanted public attention for their subjects, and for some reason, this really caught Schuyler's attention. Schuyler is luckier than a great many broken children in that she doesn't get a lot of stares. Her condition isn't one that attracts stares or comments, not immediately. It sneaks up on people who see her as a normal, even precocious kid right up until the moment that the Big Box of Words comes out of its bag, or she starts talking loudly and excitedly about something.
But she's aware of her difference, and last night, she wanted to talk about it.
She pointed to the woman on TV as she stood in a crowd of gawkers, and she signed to me that the woman was sad. I was a little surprised by this observation, since it wasn't an obvious thing to notice; the woman was smiling for the photos, after all. I suppose Schuyler has seen her share of sad smiles.
"Why are all those people looking at her?" I asked.
Schuyler put her hand on top of her head and then thrust it up in the air as if she were being measured.
"She's different, isn't she?" I said. "Who else do you know who's different?"
She indicated herself, pointing to her throat. She then went on to name her classmates one at a time, signing the things that made them different. We'd had a discussion earlier in the day about treating people who are different with respect, after she had pointed to a waiter and signed that he had a red nose. The topic was apparently still on her mind.
"Everyone's got something different about them, don't they?"
She gave this some thought and then pointed to me and indicated that I was also very tall. (Well, when you're four feet tall, isn't everyone?) She reached out, rubbed her hand on my beard and laughed. Well, it does look different, and not necessarily in a flattering way. I didn't need a seven year-old to tell me that.
Interestingly, when asked what was different about her mother, Schuyler couldn't think of anything. Julie wears her freak on the inside.
Part of me says amazing insight she's got and then the other part of me realises that she knows what the difference are is because's she's a "special kid".
ReplyDeleteI don't know what it is but special parents, kids and adults with difficulties can recognise one of their own.
Their was a thread on another board a while back about how they can tell just by the person stance if they had invisable disabilities.
Couple of years ago we were on holiday and there was a guy waiting , i presume for his child/ren to get of a train ride. The amount of looks this poor blike got, and other people were nudging other people and pointing at him.
I got angry and after this woman grapped hold of another of her friends and pointed in this guys way again i lost my rag whilst walking pass her and said loudly "he doesn't have 2 heads".
He was very tall, that's all. But why do other people have to act that he or any one else are a free freak show???
I wear my freak on the inside, too, mostly...but I was still pretty different growing up, albeit in a neurotypical sort of way. I'm glad that instead of focusing on only her own difference, Schuyler can recognize and understand others' differences...and what truly blows me away about her sensitivity is that she can already recognize a sad smile on someone she doesn't even know. She is going to do some (more!) good for the world.
ReplyDeleteHA. I've always suspected that about Julie. :)
ReplyDeleteHad to laugh about the waiter with the red nose. I had quite a battle teaching my son, at about age 4 or 5, that it was not really socially acceptable to point out that someone was fat/thin/bald/huge, etc., but this is just fine in the Deaf community where he spent much of this time (his school was a school for the deaf with many Deaf adults and children). So now he knows when it is ok to sign this and when it is not, smile.
ReplyDeleteWow, I want to hug her. What a cool soul. And I officially reverse my previous retraction of my earlier recommendation: she might love Trumpet of the Swan, in which EB White gets all up in the goodness of differentness.
ReplyDeleteAnd wait -- isn't Julie disproportionately afraid of bobcats... Or was it a mountain lion? Like worried it could jimmy the front door open or something?
I dated a guy who had Marfan's syndrome. He was 6 foot, 7. I had a taste of what it was like for him whenever we went out anywhere - he had snappy combebacks for stupid remarks and always the question, "How tall are you?" I really was amazed at the things people said to him. A constant bombardment.
ReplyDeleteHe said he felt like he lived in the land of little people and that nothing was built for him (for instance the countertops in his kitchen were too low, etc.). I know it was hard for him.
This post brought tears to my eyes.
ReplyDeleteSchuyler seems so sensitive and while I find that to be really beautiful, it breaks my heart to know that it's her brokenness that did that. She may have been sensitive had she not been broken, but you'll never know. And that's supremely unfair.
For some reason reading this makes me feel like she has an amazing future in helping people. Either in a museum digging up our pasts (come on, Schuyler, dinosaur bones, how is this NOT cool?) or in some kind of capacity as a therapist/interpreter of the broken world... I don't know. My God, she is amazing.
ReplyDeleteawwww. Bless her heart. She knew that woman was hurting on the inside. (I saw that documentary btw) Schuyler is gonna be alright in this world. I have this sneaking feeling that Schuyler is gonna do some very important work in her lifetime. I'm keepin' my eye on this girl! you go girl :)
ReplyDeleteAgain,
Shannon :):)
This brought back memories of when my oldest son was in middle school. He had a tremendous growth spurt that caused him a lot of attention at school, dubbing him "The Giant."
ReplyDeleteHe's still a big kid, but fortunately, the other freshmen have caught up to him and he doesn't look like the GIANT anymore. :)
Julie may carry her freak on the inside, but she gave birth to it at one point. ;-)
ReplyDeletePerhaps Julie is absoulutely perfect, and you and Schuyler just haven't noticed ;-)
ReplyDelete