In The Shoes of Others
by Hugh Kirsch
I have been working with developmentally
disabled people for over 15 years, and over that time have found
certain truths always seem to be self-evident. Among these are: residential
workers seem to smoke more than the general public; there never seems
to be enough hours in the day; and there are always going to be families
or guardians that seem to want to make your professional life miserable.
It is to this last point that I would like to make comment; both
as a Human Services professional and as a parent.
I can’t recall
the number of times that I sat around after an annual meeting,
jawing with co-workers and complaining about how unrealistic,
unyielding or just plain unreasonable a guardian was behaving.
It was a topic we all had in common and, in an uncanny way, almost
came off as being funny. Well, the circumstances of my life have forced
me to re-look at how I view these people.
Our son Aaron was diagnosed with autism. I clearly remember my wife
and I sitting at a conference table numbly listening to an expert trying
to give us a glimpse of what the future might, or might not, hold for
our little boy. From that point on, we were on a roller coaster of
fear, trepidation, and pain. Furthermore, with all my so-called expertise
in the field, we knew next to nothing about how to deal with his special
needs on a twenty- four hour a day, seven-days-a week basis.
All of a sudden, our lives became inundated with reading material,
appointments, IEP meetings and physical changes to our home. I feel
safe in speaking for my wife that our situation would creep into virtually
every thought, no matter what else we were doing.
Almost three years later,
we have pretty well settled into, what seems to be, the routine
of our family. We have our ups and downs, but one sure thing
is that every six months we sit around a table and listen to, admittedly
very nice and competent professionals map out our son’s
life for the next six months. During the meeting, my thoughts
still drift to things like will he ever drive a car, have
a career, or find the happiness that I have in the comfort
of a wife and family. All the while, I have to fight to bring
myself back to the task at hand.
After one such meeting,
I began thinking that I’ve been through
this hundreds of times, but always with other people’s kids.
I wonder what my son’s team was saying about us. Were we unrealistic
or unreasonable? I don’t think so. We were just trying to be
the best advocates possible for our son. For the most part, isn’t
that what any parent or guardian wants for their child?
I guess the last inalienable
truth I’ve found also seems to
hold true. We really can’t judge another until we’ve walked
in their shoes. When I think in those terms, I can’t help but
wonder if all those “other” families that I talked about
were really that unreasonable, or was it that, for all my sincerity
and sympathy, I never truly realized what it was like to be in their
shoes.
