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I still have more to learn

by Jennifer Graf Groneberg (Subscribe to Jennifer Graf Groneberg's posts)
Feb 28th 2008 11:00AM

13Comments

Lately, I have a little mama-crush on my middle son Avery.

I love his tiny bottom, his long thin feet. I love his extra-soft skin. I love his blue eyes that have little flecks of white in them like stars. I love his nose, small and button-like and very perfect for kissing. I love how he crinkles his nose when I try to kiss him, he's a big boy, after all. And I love how he sometimes still curls into me, even though he is a big boy, when he's sick or scared or sleepy.

Avery is 4. He's my best sleeper. He's potty trained. He feeds himself. He's learning the letters of the alphabet and his numbers 1-5. He's a quiet boy: he speaks using sign language about half the time, and words the other times. He used to call me mama, now, like his brothers, he calls me mom. "Mom," he'll say, to get my attention, then he'll sign what he wants.

Thirsty, or juice, or hungry. He sometimes signs ice cream because he knows I'll say, "No, wait until after supper," then he laughs, because I've done what he expected. I'm always tempted to say, "Yes!" just to see the wide startle in his deep blue eyes, but ice cream isn't a thing to joke about at my house.

Being Avery's mom hasn't made me more, or better, accustomed to other people with disabilities, I recently realized. I was in the local thrift store and a middle-aged man came over to me and told me it was his birthday. He told me he was going to be 42.

He was dressed as you'd expect a man to be in this part of the country: jeans and a flannel shirt and winter boots and a coat. His hair was combed and his face was clean-shaven. I said, "Happy Birthday!" to him in my loud voice, the one I use when the kids aren't paying attention to me, and I spoke slowly, just like I used to do before I was Avery's mom. I wondered, later, why I did that.

And too, I indulged him. I agreed with what he was saying, but I wasn't really listening. I didn't stop sliding the hangers of boys' jeans across the rack, didn't pause and introduce myself. I didn't tell him I had a son named Avery who has Down syndrome.

He left the store, then I did. He held the door open for me and I said, "Thank you," hoping that he wouldn't want to talk more. He didn't. He went his way, I went mine. Then it occurred to me: What would I have said, if he were Avery? How would I have felt, then?

I'd said all the wrong things, done all the wrong things. I would have introduced myself. I should have asked him his name. I'd ask after his family, did he have brothers and sisters? Where's his mother and father? I'd ask what he was shopping for. I'd ask if he needed help, and if he said no, I'd tell him what I was shopping for: 3 fancy bowls for ice cream Sundays, a surprise for my children. I'd speak to him in a normal voice and I'd face him when I talked. I might even ask if he knows sign language.

I have so much to learn, still.

Before becoming Avery's mom, I would have said that I did all the things I did, that I behaved the way I had, because I couldn't be sure of what the man knew or didn't know, of what he understood or didn't understand. But that's not true. I've had whole conversations with people where neither of us were talking about the same thing. So knowledge, or understanding, wasn't what it was really about. Or rather, it was my lack of knowledge, my lack of understanding that I was protecting. I didn't know how to interact with people different than me, so I didn't.

I hope I have another chance. The next time I meet a new person, I want to find common ground. I want to learn about them and let them learn about me. I want to do it with sincerity, not as a kindness or an act of pity. I want to do this because I am the one who needed to keep talking when the man and I parted ways on the street in front of the thrift store. It just took me a while to see it.

Tags: a-little-more, disability, down syndrome, avery, jennifer graf groneberg, sign, Disability,DownSyndrome,Avery,JenniferGrafGroneberg,SignLanguage

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