I've written many times about my duty as Schuyler's parent to be an overbeliever for her. I still think that's true; indeed, I hold that to be an essential truth more now than ever before. I find that if I believe Schuyler's capabilities reach beyond what we can see in the now, the rest is likely to follow. There was a time when we were told that Schuyler would never be able to write, or use a high end speech device, or even attend school, for that matter. Trying to accomplish more than that was considered overbelief by the physicians and educators and therapists in her life. It's tempting to say that it's a good thing we didn't accept those limits at the time, but honestly, it wasn't even a choice. When your parental instincts call bullshit on expert opinions, you go with your gut. If you're right, boo-yah. If not, you regroup and you go on.
I feel like there's been a subtle shift in how people with disabilities are perceived in the popular media. I think I heard more about the Paralympics in the media this year than ever before, although still not enough when you consider the extraordinary work the athletes put in. On-screen portrays of people with disabilities are becoming less of a big deal, although again, there's a lot of distance left to cover. And the notorious "R Word" seems to be slowly transforming into, if not a taboo word, at least one mostly perceived as being used and defended by low class persons. Outrage at the mocking of a journalist by a politician probably raised more awareness than all the ribbons and marathons of the past year, so, you know, thanks for that. (I'm hesitant to say his name again, kind of for the same reason I don't look in the mirror and say "Candyman" three times.)
Being a special needs parent is an amazing experience, but it runs a deficit. The obstacles that society throws up. The constant struggle to be taken seriously by professionals and educators and family and, well, the world. The ticking clock that runs out way too quickly on the protective cushion our kid's childhood provides until it very much doesn't. The isolation. The pain and anxiety our children feel and our frustrating inability to explain or make right the things that impair their young lives. They learn to find their way, and we are central to that discovery. But it takes its toll.
