Tuesday, December 18, 2012

Fighting Someone Else's Battle

     Children like mine face all sorts of challenges in life. Being different is never easy. Some children are aware of their differences and some are not, but either way being different is an uphill battle. It is difficult to be accepted, you are often looked at funny, people are afraid of those who are different and usually don't know how to interact with them or how to act around them. Children and adults with special needs face so many challenges already, they don't need any more.
     I, like many others, was riveted by my TV screen on Friday and a for a lot of the weekend. I watched the events of the tragedy at Sandy Hook Elementary School unfold to my horror and disbelief. I cried for those children and their parents. I could not pull myself away from the screen even when my own children came home. I hugged them and held them close but could not bring myself to turn off the TV even in their presence. I sat there, with tears rolling down my face, thinking about those innocent children, the brave and equally as innocent teachers and faculty. I thought of the first responders who had to walk into that horrific scene and will never be able to put it out of their minds eye. I listened and watched for every bit of information that the media handed us.
     As I watched the first press conference being given by the chief of police, I thought to myself, he isn't giving us any info but the press is. They are filling in the gaps for us. They have given the gunman a face. They have given us details, we have the whole story. Like most people, I believed them. As the weekend unfolded though, it became clear, that much of what they were reporting was incorrect or false. This is nothing new. We have seen it happen dozens of times, we are used to it and truthfully, I usually don't really care when they report falsely, until now.
     When my Facebook feed begins filling up with trending articles asking if Autism or Aspergers is to blame I begin to care. When every major news website is reporting as to whether or not Adam Lanza had Aspergers and if this was what caused him to do what he did, I get angry. When people have to start writing articles in response to that notion in defense of special needs children I become furious.
     What happened in Connecticut is a hideous tragedy. I grieve for every parent who lost a child, for any person touched by this tragedy, for Adam Lanza's father who is left behind knowing that his son did something so heinous. I grieve for the country we live in, where tragedies like this occur way too often but I also grieve for every parent of a special needs child who now has another battle to fight because of media sensationalism.
     We don't know what caused Adam Lanza to wake up Friday morning and do what he did. We probably never will. It would be great to have something or some illness to blame. It would allow each of us to look at our own children and feel better knowing that we are safe from whatever it is. But as I said, children with special needs fight an uphill battle everyday. They don't need to fight this one too. They don't need people out there speculating that any one of them could do this. Parents like me should not have to worry that schools will worry about educating our children. This should not be super imposed on the face of autism or aspergers. It is wrong. Statistics say that 1 in every 4 children has autism today. Do you really want to look at every fourth kid sideways and wonder? It is obscene, it is unfair, it is just plain wrong.

Sunday, December 9, 2012

What A Difference A Year Makes

     I just finished rereading my last years post about Chanukah. As I read it, I could clearly remember the sadness and pain I felt last year. The feeling that this is what the future held. Chanukah after Chanukah of disappointment for me as a parent. Let me tell you what a difference a year makes. I want to share with you the amazement and wonder I feel right now.
     Last night was the first night of Chanukah. As soon as the sabbath ended we ran in to the living room to light the menorahs. As is the tradition in most homes, we light in age order. My husband finished lighting his menorah and I turned to my oldest and said "Yonatan, your turn". He looked at me and said "no" and I thought to myself, here we go again. We then turned to our middle son and said "your turn". He started to sing the blessings beautifully, when out of the corner of my ear I heard my oldest say "when Raphi finishes, it is my turn". True to his word, as soon as his brother had finished lighting his candle, my oldest stood up, held the candle and with our assistance said all the blessings and lit his menorah with a big smile on his face. After my daughter finished lighting her candle we all sang the songs that follow and had a big dance party. Yonatan led the pack! And then, like any regular kid, he sat himself down on the couch and said "OK, I am ready for my present"! It was amazing. Even more amazing, was the smile on his face when he opened his "My Own Mailbox" with its red flag, post cards and all (A huge thanks to my good friend who found that one for me). He could not stop saying thank you very much to me and my husband. He was over the moon. He was enjoying Chanukah like any other child and I simply could not believe it.
     Tonight, the second night, we hosted my husbands family for a Chanukah party. Everyone came in time for the menorah lighting. Just like last night, my husband started us off and this time without even having to ask, my oldest came to the table and got ready to light his candles. As many of you know he is speech impaired and so it is not easy for him to say the brachot by himself. As he stood there reciting after us, to the best of his ability, I overheard my husbands Grandfather saying that it breaks his heart. It is very hard for him that his great grandson has trouble speaking and has special needs. It really causes him pain. As I looked at the tears in his eyes and then looked over at my son standing there lighting the candles, I thought to myself, this is not a painful moment. This is a joyous one. This is the moment when my son stood up and experienced Chanukah like all other children. I hope next year that is what my husbands grandfather will feel, because truthfully, it feels much better. It feels much better to look at my son with the pride of a Jewish Mother watching her son accomplish and enjoy what comes so easily to other jewish children. I truly hope that each year, I can go back and read my earlier posts and always be able to see Yonatans growth. It is these moments that really make it all worth while.