Special Project

This was a paper I had to write for a project in school. Thought I'd share.  :)

 

For this exercise, I chose to go grocery shopping as a woman who didn’t have the use of her legs. In order to do this, I went to Wal Mart and used a manual wheelchair. I chose to use a manual wheelchair so that this exercise had less chance of taking resources to people who actually needed them. I wheeled the chair around by myself some, but was pushed by my youngest son the majority of the time. My eldest son pushed the grocery cart and was responsible for putting the groceries in the cart. I tried to pick up most of the groceries off the shelf by myself, but did have to rely on help from others. I did all of my shopping, went through line and paid, and went all the way back to my car in the wheelchair. I also put the groceries in the trunk of my car with slight assistance from my boys.

In class, you had stated that this might be an embarrassing exercise to do. I found that my experience was quite different. From what all I’ve been through in my life, it’s hard for me to be embarrassed. While I didn’t exactly run into the store, grinning from ear to ear eager to do this, I wasn’t embarrassed. I found that people were more kind and accommodating to me. This could be because I had two children with me and they evoked sympathy from people. There were few bumps in the road while doing this exercise, but nothing that made the trip frustrating or overly difficult.

The first awkward part of this was trying to locate a wheelchair. The entrance that we came in did not have a manual wheelchair, only the motorized kind. So I had to walk the width of the store to get into a wheelchair. After a wheelchair was located, I found out that wheelchairs aren’t necessarily built for overweight people. I fit into it, but it wasn’t comfortable. This wheelchair was equipped to have a small basket attached to it, but the basket couldn’t be located. If that small basket was all that I could have used to put groceries in, I would have been very limited in what I could have gotten.

There were a few items that I would have normally purchased that I was unable to. Cat food was needed, and I could only get the small bag instead of our normal great big bag. There was plenty of room in the cart, but I couldn’t pick it up and neither could my boys. And if we had gotten it into the cart, it would have proven to be difficult at checkout. Most of the time, when people saw me reaching for things, they stepped over and got them for me. The one thing that we could not get was a box of crackers that were on the top shelf and not pulled to the front. I think I found an acceptable substitute, but my son was disappointed. The crackers were for him.

As a person without a disability, the exercise made me feel shameful. I felt guilty for taking a wheelchair when there could have been people who really needed it. I felt shame as people were so kind in helping me when I know that I could easily do it on my own. It didn’t feel right to play on the sympathies of others. Instead of evoking empathy for individuals who are bound to a wheelchair, I instead felt as though I was mocking them. As I was trying to get into a wheelchair, I watched as a man with a disability struggled to get situated in one as he had to fold and drag hid walker in behind him. I am the person who would have helped him, but couldn’t. The only positive thing that I saw coming out of this exercise was the lesson I was able to teach my children. I taught them that it is not ok to pretend to be disabled. I taught them to be kind and helpful always. I taught them how lucky they are to have able-bodied parents and to be able-bodied themselves and to appreciate it every day.

I’m not sure yet how this has impacted me. I feel bad for doing it. But I feel good in knowing that there are so many people out there how are willing to help. It feels to good knowing that my children learned a lesson. Will this change the way I treat disabled people, no. I’ve always been kind and helpful to those in need. And in my classroom, I’ll be the same. That’s just who I am.

Stepping on toes...

I watched something that made me uncomfortable tonight.

I should back up and tell you where I was.

The boys basketball league, Upward, had a banquet tonight.

This involved pizza, soda, cookies, and silly musicians. The pizza was edible, the cookies were homemade and wonderful, and the musician brought a message of God's love. While I know that if I'm honest about it, I would say that there were other places I'd rather be, but all in all it wasn't that bad. I did have the joy of watching Mac get picked to go up on stage. (Thank you kind musician for making the boy's life just a little bit brighter).

So all of that went well, no complaints. And what I have to say isn't really a complaint, it's an observation.

The kids got called up on stage as teams to receive their award. In the past, we've gotten basketballs and backpacks. Tonight we got miniature basketball goals, but the prize doesn't really matter. They're all pretty much the same.

OK, so the goal was to get all the players in an age group together on stage and take their picture. Now, this is after they've been given the fairly useless piece of plastic that probably has a life span of a week (in my house at least). The kids looked at the camera, smiled, and without thought or hesitation, raised their piece of plastic to the appropriate level below their faces.

All the sudden to me, that just didn't feel right. It got me thinking about all the things our children receive and how we encourage them to pose for the camera. Participation trophies, first place ribbons, recognition plaques, pieces of paper that say good for you-you breathed, or acknowledgement awards to show that they truly accomplished something amazing. It doesn't matter what the object is, we just want a picture.

These kids have been operantly conditioned to smile and hold the thing just right. They've been taught that everything thing they do is wonderful, every thought they have is spectacular, that they deserve an award just for existing.

While this might not be entitlement, it is definitely a self-centered practice. The children must have the thing to prove themselves and parents must take the picture to show how great their kid is. And maybe it's not the thing they get and the parents' picture, but the expectations.

We are teaching our children, from a young age, that they need to view their self-value through what someone gives them. We're teaching them that they can't draw from within themselves to see something of worth. We've trained them to just smile, and hold up the award without thought as to what that award means.

I am very proud of my children's accomplishments. But I'm more proud in how they chose to conduct themselves and in who they are becoming.

I don't take my camera places, and there are occasions that I regret that. And I can't say that I'll carry the memories in my heart, because I won't remember. I will remember the feelings though. The pride, the joy, the sense of true accomplishment-and those are my feelings, not the boy's.

So why do we do this to our kids? Who's needs are we trying to fill?

I work hard to not be that parent. I try to teach my boys that they should always try their best, but that their best might not always be good enough. I try to show them that awards are supposed to mean something.

I teach them not to pose. That authentic is much better.

I've probably stepped on toes by saying this. I know most would disagree. But this is how I feel and how I choose to raise my family.