Pride (rawr!)

On Tuesday, Dave Hingsburger came to St. Catharines to speak about Disability Pride.

I first met Dave around this time last year when he and his partner Joe came to teach us how to teach others about abuse prevention. I wrote about that unforgettable experience here if you're interested.

Dave is a rare soul who challenges everyone he meets to look at the world through other people's eyes. The funny thing about Dave is that, even though his blog is the first thing I read every morning and even though I've had the opportunity to meet him a few times and interact with him over email - he surprises me every time I hear him speak.

When Dave is presenting, he always get there early. In fact, he's usually one of the first people in the room. He sets himself up at a table at the front with his notes and his tea (can't forget the tea!). He sits there quietly as the room fills with people. Sometimes people come up and quietly talk with him but, more often than not, he sits alone. Sometimes he looks up, sometimes he looks down. He always looks quiet and it's honestly hard to believe that he is the presenter. Hard to believe that, in a few more minutes, he's going to move people, anger people, make people laugh, cry and gasp in horror. Hard to believe that he's going to inspire several hundred people to take a look at themselves, at how they treat others and at how they want to be treated. Hard to believe he is, once again, going to challenge everyone to change the world.

Damn it, he surprises me every time.

He moves me every time.

He always makes me want to work harder and refuse to be complacent.

And I know what to expect from the man. I've heard him speak. I've read his stories.

On Tuesday, Dave spoke about disability pride.

He told some moving stories and made some very compelling arguments about how other groups of people have pride. Ever been to the Pride Parade in Toronto? I have, several times. Don't tell me they aren't proud of who they are.

Ever been to a multicultural celebration? I have. Don't tell me they aren't proud of who they are.

Dave argues that people with disabilities should be too. No more whispers of "he has Down Syndrome", no more whispers of "I work with people with disabilities". "ENOUGH!!" he roars. "We need to own this, we need to stand strong together, make change together and fight against hatred, prejudice and bigotry together!"

He's right, of course, and he's leading the movement.

And, once again, he's convinced this girl to join in the parade.

A Day to Remember

Today I met one of my heroes.

He doesn't run, cycle, have diabetes or take amazing photographs (that I know of).

He drinks tea, not coffee.  He likes movies and dogs.  He thinks I look a lot like a girl named Emily.

His name is Dave Hingsburger and he fights for the little guy.

More importantly - he teaches them how to fight for themselves.

Dave teaches people to say no.  Actually, he teaches them to say NO!!  No to abuse.  No to discrimination.  No to people telling them how to feel or act.

Dave and his partner Joe came to our agency today. They came to teach a class on abuse to adults with a developmental disability.  Because people with developmental disabilities are more likely to be abused than any other population.

And the majority of this abuse is done by staff who are supposedly there to support them.

Think about that for a moment and let the horror of it sink in.

So Dave and Joe came to our agency today to teach people that they have a voice.  A right to say no. And a responsibility to speak up so that abuse stops.

Their two hour class was informative, hilarious and empowering.  I was there to learn how to teach the material but my role was to sit quietly, not offer any answers and not help anyone.

Within minutes, Dave had built a sense of trust in the room.  He empowered people to speak up, help their peers, share their feelings and stand up for themselves.  It was extremely moving to watch.  People with whom I work with every day surprised me.  Over and over.  Quiet people found their voice and said no.  People who are easily upset or stressed participated happily in role plays.  People who can't read offered to stand in front of the group and read - with help from a peer.

Today was every bit the day that I hoped it would be.

Dave and Joe were every bit as charming, entertaining, approachable and passionate as I hoped they would be.

The people who took the class were every bit as engaged, respectful and eager to learn as I hoped they might be.

And the staff left the session every bit as inspired as I hoped they would be.

It's nice when you set high standards for everyone and they exceed them by a mile.

Thank you Dave.  Thank you Joe.  You have reminded this girl why she does what she does.  I hope we can carry the torch that has been passed to us with the care and respect it deserves.

Rights = choices

My head is spinning today – chock full of thoughts about rights and responsibilities.  Specifically, the rights and responsibilities of people with disabilities. 

The rights of people with disabilities are the same as everyone else’s. 

Period. 

But theory and practice butt heads a lot and the latter often wins. Vulnerable populations, people whose voices aren’t as loud, or as eloquent, often find their rights restricted. And often, they are restricted by the very people who are there to support them.

It happens innocently enough – someone is told by their doctor that they shouldn’t smoke as much. So staff, being supportive and wanting to take care of the person, limit their cigarettes. 

People without disabilities have the right to smoke as much as they want, no matter what their doctor has to say about it.  So what gives us the right to restrict someone’s cigarettes just because they have a disability?  They have the right to make their own unhealthy choices just like everyone else does.   

I’m working on developing a rights/responsibilities presentation for staff.  And it has me thinking about some of the agonizing struggles we face every day as we try to find the balance between supporting someone and encouraging them to take responsibility for their own choices and their own lives.    

What do you do when someone is making frightening choices about their sexual activities? Spending all of their money before paying for rent and food? Abusing drugs? Choosing to remain in an abusive relationship?  Living on chips and pop?

The best we can do is teach people about their rights, about making responsible choices, recognizing abuse and standing up for themselves.  It’s not ideal, and it’s pretty scary sometimes, but it’s better than the alternative - restricting people’s right to make their own choices in a misguided attempt to keep them ‘safe’. 

We all the have the right to make our own choices – good or bad.

We have to accept responsibility for those choices.

And we have to respect others enough to let them do the same.

People First

The words we choose can really hurt, even when we don't mean them to.  Sometimes they might hurt just a little but words paint pictures and they can easily paint the wrong ones. 

I work with people who have a developmental disability.  I'm very careful to put it that way because they are people first.  Just like I am a person with diabetes rather than a diabetic.  It's a little thing but it's a big thing.

Anyway, that's what I do.  I am well aware of how the words I choose can make a difference.  An email discussion started yesterday between a co-worker and I.  I really respect her because she makes me think and constantly challenges me.  So she opened a can of worms and got me thinking about the language we use at work.

She mentioned the term 'front line'.  People who work directly with a person with a developmental disability are often called a front line staff.  I hate that term and so does she.  She told me of an exercise she does sometimes to challenge people.  She asks them to google 'front line' and see if the pictures that come up accurately represent the work that we do.  I think not. 

The problem is that we've developed a way of talking when we are at work and we would never talk that way in our personal lives.  When I get up in the morning, I shower, brush my teeth and get ready for work.  I would never say that I complete my hygiene routine and then go to my paid employment placement. 

I go out with my friends, I don't go on outings with my peer group. 

I get angry and upset, I don't exhibit behaviours or become verbally aggressive.

And, trust me, when I feel angry and upset, I don't need to be de-escalated. 

Language is all about respect.  Yet too often, we have a language for people who are like us and a language for people who are different.  All that does is highlight the differences. 

We are people first.