Ridicule

This post is from Linc's dad Sam.

Liz and I talk a lot.

I mean, a lot! It’s kind of our thing.

We often lament our inconvenient schedule and how it keeps us away from each other more than we would like, but it probably forces us to enjoy the time we have together even more. Consequently, we regularly are unable to finish a 30 minute TV show because we keep pausing it to talk (except Glee, we love that show). So when Linc was born and we were thrown into this bizarre world of sadness frosted with guilt about even feeling that sadness, it was no surprise that we talked about it a lot too. Every wave of grief or hopelessness that washed over us came right out again in the form of speech. Talking was a way to keep from drowning in it all. We tried to avoid internalizing and we tried not to judge one another so that we could get everything out in the open. It made for some interesting conversations.

One of these conversations featured me, ever the optimist, searching for the bright side of our new situation and I ended up saying to my wife, “Well, at least now we know what Linc’s ‘thing’ will be…”

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“You know,” I said, feigning matter-of-fact resignation, “Everyone gets made fun of or ridiculed for something. Funny hair, odd name, ugly clothes. We have no idea what it will be with Nico, but at least we know what it will be with Linc. At least we don’t have to worry about that anymore, you know?”

I think Liz responded with a wry smile and an eye roll. “Right?” she responded.

I remember thinking this was a pretty enlightened realization. I was so wise.

I was wrong.

The truth is that we still don’t know what Linc’s ‘thing’ will be because his diagnosis does not define him. Does your race or sexuality or political affiliation define you? It shouldn’t. These are simply aspects of your personality. The addition of all these and your million other personality traits add up to something greater than just the sum of the parts. Linc is no different.

Take Temple Grandin as an example. She was diagnosed with Autism in 1950. That should have been her label, right? Autistic. Bam. You’re the autistic girl.

Today she has a PhD, is a best selling author, and a professor at Colorado State University. Is she an expert in Autism and its treatments? No. Livestock. She revolutionized the slaughter house industry in the country. She has a genius for perspective, specifically for seeing things through the eyes of herd animals. She moved beyond and became so much more than her diagnosis.

And it’s not just Temple Grandin. Adolf Hitler was a vegetarian who was born in Austria. Ulysses S. Grant was a raging alcoholic. FDR had polio and could not stand unassisted by the end of his life. James Dean was gay. Albert Einstein was a crummy student. George W Bush has a fear of horses and was born in Connecticut. Are these the things you remember these people for? Probably not.

These people, for better or worse, overcame the labels by which the world could have insisted they remain identified. They absorbed the labels into their character and become something greater. And most of us do.

I long to see the day that Lincoln gets made fun of, not for having DS, but for knowing too many musicals or for having a funny haircut or for whatever else his friends can find. I will console him just like I will Nico. “Don’t worry, buddy. Everyone gets made fun of for something. You wanna hear what people ridicule me for? It’s a pretty long list, pal.”

I can’t wait to see how he moves beyond the labels and becomes something greater.

I can’t wait to find out was his ‘thing’ really is.

-Sam

P.S. Today is Nico's 5th birthday. We are celebrating hard. Trust me, I didn't forget. So relax. There will be plenty of details tomorrow...