*I've joined a blogging challenge for the month of October: Blog every day in October in honor of National Down Syndrome Awareness Month (Down syndrome is medically defined as Trisomy 21, and there are 31 days in October, hence the name 31 for 21). My posts will not necessarily be about Down syndrome, but I am writing as a person who 1) loves many people w/Down syndrome and other disabilities and 2) desires for others to be able to see what I see: remarkably unique people with much to offer to the world*
It is frustrating to feel not listened to. I'm sure any parents or teachers reading this can especially relate. It drains energy and patience quickly. Some of the many things I'm tired of saying/resaying:
-I'm tired of telling one client that, no, REALLY, she needs to not have her legs crossed because her doctors have instructed her not to due to circulation problems. That today's latest excuse isn't going to work: just uncross them, NOW.
-I'm tired of telling another client that we don't actually STOCK Dr. Pepper on-site. If she drank one already today, the one that was packed in her lunch box, she is out of luck. There won't be any more...until tomorrow.
-I'm tired of reminding another client that we don't say "HEY" and yell across the room when we have a concern. I'm tired of telling him my name as if we haven't known each other for 9 months.
-I'm tired of explaining and re-explaining forms to a staff member who seems completely unable to follow instructions, or even to read them. Everything seems to be brand new information, and telling her is tiresome because it's hard to believe it will do any good this time if it didn't the ten times before.
But it is good for me to think about how often my clients themselves probably do not feel listened to. They are surrounded, most of the time, at day program and in their group homes, by staff members who are over-worked and under-paid and splitting their attention with other people. Their language is often hard to understand. Many have muscles in their mouths that don't work just right, so every vowel and consonant takes a tremendous amount of effort. Or maybe they have an extremely quiet voice that is physically hard to hear. Maybe they only have a few words, and those words simply aren't enough to articulate complex ideas. Maybe they have no words at all and are left simply to hope that someone will pick up on their facial expressions and body language. Maybe they have no language deficits at all, but have learned over time that people don't often listen because they somehow haven't earned their respect. Whatever the reason, it is good for me to remember. I have the ability to express myself in a million different ways, I have vocabulary to use and a voice and plenty of breath. I have fingers that can type words or hold a pen to write letters, I can even put my words to music to express them differently, more fully. So when there are times when my message seems to fall on deaf ears, I can be thankful for the many times that it doesn't. And I can remember to listen that much more closely to the people around me.
Thursday, October 18, 2012
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