Nothing special

One of the first changes I noticed in my own behaviour following the confirmation that our child has Down’s syndrome was a heightened sensitivity to the language used to describe disability and people with disabilities.

I have had to learn myself to refer to “babies with Down’s syndrome” rather than “Down’s syndrome babies” for example.

I am also learning not to be easily offended and how to be patient with friends and relatives regarding their use of language in the hope that they will pick up on our lead as to what we consider to be appropriate.

However, there is one word that to be is like fingernails on a blackboard: “special.”

“Special children line up for pre-K diplomas,” is the headline for this vomit-inducing piece from LoHud.com that means well but is a prime example of the sort of condescending attitude to disability that I have already come to hate.

I understand why the media is attracted to such euphemisms but “special” is patronising and lazy and trite. Why not just say “disabled children”? I’d even prefer they used the term “retarded” rather than “special” (although I accept that many would disagree with me on that one).

With that in mind I was pleased to see this comment in an opinion piece from the Canadian London Free Press reviewing a new book written by a man named John Ryan about his experiences raising his son Tiberius, who has Down’s:

“John Ryan doesn’t… agree with those who suggest that God sends his ’special children’ to ’special parents’. ‘It was just something that happened,’ he tells me. ‘And then you deal with it.’”

It’s refreshing to see the subject discussed so simply and honestly. Unfortunately even the writer of the opinion piece can’t avoid falling for the old cliché.

“Still, Ryan doesn’t avoid pointing out the problems that came with having such a special son,” he adds later.