that’s not confrontational

you know what? the world stinks if you are considered disabled.

it gets a little bit stinkier if you are non-verbal and therefore considered voiceless.

and it gets the stinkiest when people insist you are more disabled than you are therefore holding you back from your full potential.

i was told using ‘you’ in a sentence was confrontational when describing the situation.

that’s not confrontational, what’s confrontational is the whole time i was talking to you, i was thinking you looked like gary shandling with a tan.


“she will be a child her whole life.” i was told about emma and why she cannot decide whether or not she wants to go somewhere.

“even children get a choice to say no.” i countered.

“no they don’t.” i was told.

“i don’t know about you, but i do give my children quite a few choices.” i replied.

those of you who have been reading this blog for the long haul know there have been ups and downs with emma. know there have been grieving processes and celebratory jumps. yesterday i found myself grieving a little more.

when emma turned 18, i genuinely, truly, sincerely, thought she would have a little more voice. a little more freedom, and little more rights.

guess what?

she doesn’t.

it does not matter if she does not want to go. it does not matter if we have to force her out of the car. she should have a choice not to go. one choice in the mid-week visit is all that was requested.

being non-verbal does not make you silent, and that is the biggest travesty of all.

it does not matter. her voice does not matter.

and that, gentle readers, makes me confrontational.


luckily i packed my angry eyes.


3 thoughts on “that’s not confrontational

  1. Have you ever thought of contacting someone from the Americans’ with disabilities and see if there is something that can be done. Heck, even the ACLU. I dunno, there has to be someone out there that has dealt with this.


  2. I have a good friend who’s 7-year-old is autistic and his school asked my friend to sign off on allowing them to use arm restraints on him. She refused and told them they just needed to help him communicate when he hits (mostly himself) because he only does it when he’s frustrated, and they wouldn’t listen. She had to call in experts before she could get them to agree not to physically restrain her sweet little boy and instead figure out what he needed. Makes me furious. So basically what I’m saying is I’m making a run to Mississippi to bust some kneecaps. Just let me know where to stop next and I’ll take care of it for you. The bat will be all warmed up and my aim will be honed to perfection by then.


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