EQUALITY, UNITY, AND JUSTICE

For George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, Ahmaud Arbery, and their fellow human beings unjustly killed for being Black

I.

I’m about as white-skinned as it gets. 

But when I lost my still-alive white father to mental illness, a Black man—a former mentor and teacher—stepped up to fill that thankless role without even being asked. 

There are very few people of color in my current hometown.

But my daughter’s best friend all through grade school was one of them, and her family became my adopted family here. 

I’m a United States citizen.

But the first year and most formative times in my life were spent in the Darien jungle in Panama. There, my father and I were usually the only white people for hundreds of miles, amidst indigenous people, the descendants of escaped African slaves, (mostly) Spanish colonizers, and Chinese canal laborers, and combinations thereof.

My daughter is a U.S. citizen. 

But she was born in and adopted from China and is genetically of entirely Chinese descent.

Four rational reasons why I march, why I vote for equality, and why I always do my best to do right by all people of color.

II. 

My son and I are neurodivergent.

Just as a Black person may be in danger (or be bullied, or passed over for a job, and on and on) simply for “being in a black body,” my white-bodied son faces discrimination and danger for having an autistic mind. (I “pass” a little more easily, but have also dealt with plenty of neurodiversity-related issues over my lifetime!) 

Like most Black parents, many parents of autistic children teach their kids how to behave if they encounter the police. “Acting weird” or “different” is yet another way to “get yourself in trouble”—or worse. 

When we—whoever we are, whatever our skin color, etc.—say “Black lives matter,” we are in fact saying “All lives matter, because all people should be equal”; 

and we are also saying “We understand that, historically and in the present, people living in so-called black bodies have been, and are being, treated with extraordinary violence and injustice, as if they don’t matter, and we want everybody to know that black lives are of great and necessary value in the tapestry of humanity and we ally with Black people.”

If you’re “foreign,” gay, Autistic, brown, yellow, Black … in short, if you’re colored or shaped or oriented or identify differently—if (in the United States) you’re different from the dominant/“normal” white majority in any way, really—you know what it feels like to have your body and whole being seen in ways that categorize you, that relegate your existence and actions to a lesser status on the basis of a single trait. 

Another rational reason why I advocate and ally with ALL marginalized peoples.

III.

But rational reasons, even very convincing ones, aren’t the point. 

Dear persons, why must there be a reason behind understanding that we are all human beings?

As such, do we not all have hearts to care for our fellow beings? 

I once read about a U.S. senator discussing how he was grateful for the hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of healthcare his sick wife received through health insurance. He spoke of how that huge amount of money would have been a stretch for him without insurance, and how he now understands why people need insurance. 

Do the math, senator. For most people, hundreds of dollars, even dollars, in out-of-pocket health expenses would be a stretch. I suppose that’s a rational reason behind healthcare coverage.

But it’s also a heart-centered reason behind caring: Do those less-affluent people care any less about their wives, children, partners, parents—or their own and loved ones’ health and access to healthcare?

Why would it take a direct experience of the need for healthcare to grasp that everyone needs healthcare—and that basic human decency demands that they get it?

Likewise, why would you have to know a [fill in the blank here] person intimately to include them in your species?

Even if we don’t have the empathetic capacity to make such a heartfelt leap of understanding, doesn’t logical reasoning tell us we are all fundamentally similar in the most basic ways? 

For instance, I think we can agree that we all want and need the same things: 

• enough food to eat 
• a safe home to live in
• to be loved and to love
• enough resources to access what we need (and, we hope, a bit more “for special”)
• opportunities for meaningful employment and/or other activities
• people with whom we can connect on what we care about
• to be known as a worthwhile being and treated with respect

I might have missed one or two items (and, of course, some specifics for particular individuals), but it seems to me these needs are 

1. widely if not universally shared,
2. reasonable, and, more importantly, 
3. achievable…if we work together. 

Let’s try this handy test:

Are you human?

Do you believe that other humans are also human?

Do you believe on some level that some humans, say, women, trans people, Black people, Autistic people, and/or members of some other subgroup, are somehow less human than other humans of another group (probably your group)? 

OR do you believe that all humans in general* have equal/shared humanity and worth?

If so, whether you came to this conclusion with your heart or mind (or both), do you believe it’s worthwhile, even imperative, to help ensure that all humans have access to the above basics? 

Do you accept that some of us have certain areas of privilege (such as being white, educated, verbal, male, financially secure, and so on)?

Can we use whatever resources, privilege(s), and/or power we’ve got to advocate for equality? 

Dear readers, I get it: It may feel like there isn’t much you can do in this isolating global crisis. You may feel angry, sad, tired, hopeless. Many of us have all we can handle with work and family alone. 

But the world is desperately in need of healing right now, and ripe for CHANGE in ways we may never again see. It’s an amazing opportunity! 

Know that every small shift toward inclusion, every friendly and/or courageous exchange between mutually human beings, can have huge reverberations. That means any little steps you can take will make the world better for all of us. 

Thanks and love,

Full Spectrum Mama

* Of course, some individuals commit acts that diminish their own and others’ humanity. I’m simply arguing against classifying any subgroup of humanity as less-than based on a single trait. 

DIFFERENT

I recently read a book review by a person with sensory processing differences bemoaning a new compilation of essays by people on the spectrum as basically all stuff she’d heard before. It’s true: so many blogs and books are about similar things. Still, as a teacher (of yoga as well as academics), I know full well that it can take a lot of repetition for things to get through to people.

Another point in favor of repetition: Sometimes hearing things slightly differently, or from a different source, makes all the difference. I still remember the first time I really heard a yoga teacher say, “breathe deeply,” despite the fact that I’d probably been instructed to do so a bajillion times before. A particular iteration just might be the one that - finally, truly - gets through to someone.

As well, I applaud the normalization of the conversation itself! Another post about why someone needs earplugs or a weighted blanket or a sensory break?…Sigh? Or be glad that these adaptations are being integrated into the realm of “whatever” (as opposed to “weirdo-land”)?

In that vein, I offer my take on families and friends learning about difference:

A friend posted this question on facebook:

 ·

Hey friends, I'd like to know how you talk to your kids about people with intellectual and developmental disabilities. I'm finding the "difference" language, which I generally like and feel is empowering, to be somehow problematic.

[Her son]  knows that there are lots of ways people can be different, that some people are born different and some people look or act different because of something that happens in life (like veterans who use prosthetics). If I know someone's diagnosis (like Down's Syndrome), I use that in a matter-of-fact way, explaining what it is and how it happens.

The issue is when I don't know what someone's difference is diagnosed as, but I want to talk about that person with [son], so he can be sensitive to them. I want him to know it's okay to ask me any questions he might have. I don't see how he can stand up to any bullying of kids who are different if he thinks it's something so shameful we don't talk openly about it.

Thoughts? Advice?

Here’s what I said [combined and slightly edited for clarity]:

Great question and obviously one we deal with for a variety of reasons and in a variety of ways in our family. I do agree that a matter-of fact attitude is so important in most observation of others. Anything from "Oh, so and so sometimes shouts," to “Yup, looks like that kid has only one arm…” to “Yes, some people think it is important to wear clothing with a brand name on it,” can be shared in a neutral and implicitly inclusive way. There might be some judgment or question appended – “Does that hurt your ears?” “Do you think brand names are important?” “How do you think she feels if people stare at her?” –  that is likewise implicitly inclusive in that it does not intentionally refer to the “normalcy” of the observed trait.

One major caveat when it comes specifically to “disability:” Many people one might label as disabled might disagree with that label. They might feel they are differently-abled, or even superiorly-abled, or completely normal in their own way….

Because there are two key underlying things here:

how people see themselves

and  

how they are seen by others.

Obviously you want [your son] to know that all beings are worthy of kindness and respect (I hate "tolerance" [although I know it's meant well in theory, I find it condescending in practice]) including himself (who, as a male of color, will have his work cut out for him in some arenas...). This kindness and respect model encompasses both how he sees himself and how he sees others, and naturally integrates how others themselves might want to be seen, right?

What I try to convey is that Everybody is different...and everybody is equally worthy of kindness and respect. Having an autistic kid and a kid of color that's already been kind of an inevitable issue and we have our teachable moments at home as well as on the town. Sometimes they are painful. (And, by the way, there are those rare exceptions to these ideals of neutral observation and kindness and respect for all: those sorry-as$ people who do not treat us or others with kindness and respect [because they are “hurting in their hearts”] need to be treated with kindness and respect from a very long distance…)

I guess this is a long-winded way of saying:

if Everybody is different,

then "different in the way her mind [body, etc] works" or "from a different

culture" (or whatEVER)

becomes simply one difference among an infinite realm of possibility.

It’s a pretty ordinary point for those of us accustomed to daily life with “extraordinary” differences in our midst. But the implications are grand: with everybody being different, there is no homogeneous “normal” against which we all must be judged.

Love,

Full Spectrum Mama