Occasionally, there are things said, and done. Big things. Big enough to make their rounds on social media, being shared and reshared by the masses. People are riled up. They're angry. And, I'll read those things. I'll watch those videos, and I'm often stirred with anger and indignation. I think to myself, 'Yes! This is one of those times the whole world can agree that this is not okay.'
I'm wrong. Every time. The world doesn't agree. They dig deeper. They say more. They mock those who are hurt with attempted insults of 'being a snowflake.' I'm not sure that it is an insult to be honest. I see nothing wrong with being someone who tends to fall softly, barely a thought to others. And, at other times, fall hard and blindingly, making people sit up and take notice. Making people change plans. I'll take snowflake. While they can melt, they are also the making of slippery roads, and deep avalanches. I'll fall softly when needed, and I'll evaporate to start the process over. Waiting until just the right time to come forth again. Perhaps I'll fall softly again. Maybe, I'll be part of a big storm.
Right now, I'm hoping for storms. I've been inundated with tales of people making fun of those with disabilities. My newsfeed has shared all of them so many times. On occasion, it's a friend defending it. Or, even a friend saying it. Those hurt the most. They make my chest ache with the thought that they can somehow disconnect the words they're saying from people. My person.
I'm wrong. Every time. The world doesn't agree. They dig deeper. They say more. They mock those who are hurt with attempted insults of 'being a snowflake.' I'm not sure that it is an insult to be honest. I see nothing wrong with being someone who tends to fall softly, barely a thought to others. And, at other times, fall hard and blindingly, making people sit up and take notice. Making people change plans. I'll take snowflake. While they can melt, they are also the making of slippery roads, and deep avalanches. I'll fall softly when needed, and I'll evaporate to start the process over. Waiting until just the right time to come forth again. Perhaps I'll fall softly again. Maybe, I'll be part of a big storm.
Right now, I'm hoping for storms. I've been inundated with tales of people making fun of those with disabilities. My newsfeed has shared all of them so many times. On occasion, it's a friend defending it. Or, even a friend saying it. Those hurt the most. They make my chest ache with the thought that they can somehow disconnect the words they're saying from people. My person.
While my daughter certainly deserves respect and dignity, she'll be the first one to hug you, and give you a good butt patting, whether you know her or not. Whether you are kind to her or not. She is not afraid of your hatred. Your ignorance. Your words that cut me so deeply that the only reply you can muster is snowflake.
But, for this reason, I feel it even more important. Her joy, her unrelenting grace, everyone should get to experience such beauty. But, those that don't, those that are afraid of it, unsure of how to look disability in the eye and not see a reflection of their own imperfections, they will mock. They will make jokes. And, they, and the masses, will join together to make certain that those of us who speak up are the ones who sound like fools.
But, for this reason, I feel it even more important. Her joy, her unrelenting grace, everyone should get to experience such beauty. But, those that don't, those that are afraid of it, unsure of how to look disability in the eye and not see a reflection of their own imperfections, they will mock. They will make jokes. And, they, and the masses, will join together to make certain that those of us who speak up are the ones who sound like fools.
But, what they don't know, is that this little girl that crawled up on my lap, and fell asleep holding my hand, is the one leading me in love.
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