Ten years ago, my wife Josie and I began the journey we never expected – parenting a child with Down Syndrome. In part 1 of this series, I tell that story and share our learning about how we practice our guiding principles related to disability.
Despite the fact that inclusion has become a widespread cultural value, those with disabilities still experience exclusion, prejudice, and bigotry.
If we can see the pitfalls around us, we can avoid them and change them. In part 1, we looked at the pitfall of prejudice. Here are some other pitfalls to be aware of:
The Pitfall of Blindness
A few years ago Josie and I were talking with another parent after picking Griffin up from school. At one point Griffin became the topic of conversation and the woman commented, When I look at Griffin I don’t see his disability. I see Griffin just like every other kid.
I can appreciate the sentiment behind this statement as it seeks to counteract the pitfall of prejudice by validating Griffin’s intrinsic value and worth as a human being.
The problem, however, is that it fails to see that Griffin is, in fact, not like every other kid.
Griffin has a real disability called Down syndrome. And with Down syndrome comes a whole set of challenges that Griffin experiences that other kids do not. Failing to see and acknowledge those challenges does the work of keeping these challenges at a distance.
While prejudicial attitudes and actions are more hurtful and destructive, affirming Griffin’s worth by negating his disability is also damaging.
The Pitfall of Pity
There is a famous book entitled When Helping Hurts that details how our well-intentioned efforts to help relieve poverty can actually do harm when it fosters dependency and overlooks the dignity and capacity of the poor. This is hard for well-meaning helpers to see. We feel great about providing help while failing to recognize that our helping is hurting. The book calls for a shift away from pity toward a more relational, empowering, and participatory to poverty alleviation.
A similar point can be made when relating to those who are disabled. While many programs exist that afford individuals an opportunity to serve those with disabilities, our relational posture within those spaces will determine if our efforts are helpful or hurtful.
When we relate to individuals as objects of pity — focusing primarily on their needs and the positive feelings we get when serving them — our helping will end up hurting. When serving those who are disabled, we might think we are modeling inclusion, despite the fact that we aren’t actually befriending those with disabilities such that they become part of the relational fabric of our lives.
Many people interact with Griffin kindly and respectfully, but few are interested in actually becoming his friend. And that’s the difference between pity and presence.
Going Beyond Inclusion
When we consider how Jesus related to those with disabilities, it’s clear that he not only avoided these three pitfalls, but challenged them directly.
When Jesus encountered an individual with a disability, he did not pretend they were healthy and fine like every other person. Rather, he moved toward them with compassion, while simultaneously affirming their dignity and acknowledging their disability.
When Jesus healed those with disabilities, he was disrupting cultural scripts and societal expectations that were dehumanizing and rooted in prejudice.
And far from treating those with disabilities as service projects to make himself feel better, Jesus established friendship with those who were disabled—inviting them to not only to be part of a new community, but actually participate and contribute within it.
I’m convinced that mere inclusion isn’t enough.
If we, as followers of Jesus, are going to live in the way of Jesus, we must pivot from pity to presence, from charity to community, from fixing to fellowship, from sympathy to solidarity, from treating the disabled as problems to be helped to a person to be known.
