When We Slip and Slide - A Lament

Nope. No actual water in this post.

What is raising awareness? Is it asking people to realize that something exists? Is it factual information? Is it trying to wake people up to the reality around them? Or does it carry with it the connotation that there is something one should be aware of so that it doesn't sneak up on one, so that one is not, let's say, affected by a condition?

Lately, I've been having an increasingly difficult time with seeing raising awareness as something that results in a purely positive outcome. It is no longer enough for me to say that we need to move on from awareness, that awareness is fine and all, but that we need to do more. Now I have to go and question the whole idea of 'raising awareness' too. But then again, that's what I do: I can't just, for the sake of Frank and all of his penguin minions, accept things for what they are - good and pure and nice and not meant like that. </sarcasmfont>

I always have to dig, wonder, question, and reflect.

Dammit, if I'm not just "full of hate" and "looking for things to be confrontational about." Ho hum. Yes, more sarcasm.

But October is Down Syndrome Awareness month. There will be many people who will be especially vocal about Down syndrome, many bloggers who will be doing a blogging prompt called 31 for 21, which essentially means that they'll be writing a post to raise awareness about Down syndrome every day of the month of October. I wish I had that kind of blogging energy or the inspiration, but there just isn't enough coffee or wine in this world for me to blog every day (also, there may be too much good stuff to read to actually produce any stuff of my own). I own that. Last year I managed one post. This year I'm not even going to preface this post with a bunch of excuses. You all know I spend a lot of time just sitting chasing a wily toddler drinking thinking not cooking reading doing laundry resetting and degooifying the 'puter, the iPad, my phone, and the DVR living and being generally a big wet blanket, right?

I'm excused and can just harp from the sidelines. Awesome.

There will be many, many posts about Down syndrome. Countless cute, some not so cute, and maybe a few 'educational' photos. Lots of talk and stories, and the like. Plenty of dispelling of false or antiquated beliefs and completely wrong information. Some complaints. Many funny anecdotes and observations.  Some facts, many should-be-but-maybe-not-exactly-are-facts, and perhaps a few beliefs and observations masquerading as facts. Still, lots of good, lots of community, and lots of love.

Love is always nice. Isn't it just?

But sometimes we I have to be contrary. Sometimes I have to embrace my anger at the society as a valuable tool, turn it into outrage, and challenge the very things I apparently should not be questioning. Because if things make us feel good, help us get by, or help to keep the boat from rocking, if they make us feel like "we're all in this together," they are beyond reproach. Huh? And questioning ideas written in stone as far as Down syndrome goes would just be mean and divisive and not beneficial to the cause.

It could fuck with the kumbaya.

Yeah. There'll be things in this month of blogging I want no part of. Because raising awareness -  especially when this 'raising awareness' opens the door to pretty much anything one wishes to say about whatever that awareness is being raised about - does not necessarily promote meaningful inclusion, acceptance, or equal rights. Which, incidentally are the cause I'm interested in.

Awareness does not necessarily lead to acceptance. Ideally it does, but ideally I'd also be blogging every day this month to a receptive audience, and always have the sun shine when I need to get across the Target parking lot with a toddler and a couple dozen pounds of Halloween candy. And ideally I'd have no desire to eat said candy. Ideally my kid would just stick with saying the "no" when she doesn't want to eat something and skip the grand display of 'here, this is how much I will not eat this crap and will instead place it in your lap, on the chair, and on the floor'. Ideally.

But that's just not how stuff shakes out. Or doesn't. Egg stains, people. Egg stains.

Sometimes raising awareness about Down syndrome becomes about a heightened sensitivity to that which all too easily makes a person with Ds the Other, and worse yet, people with Ds a unified, homogeneous group Other. Awareness of a condition can lead to the idea that people with the condition need to be handled or dealt with in a certain way, differently from those without the condition, and potentially to the notion of differing expectations of the people with the condition. Raising awareness about Down syndrome, the genetic condition, can easily chip away at the individuality of a person with Down syndrome, the people who have this genetic condition, by drawing on generalizations and sometimes even stereotypes, and by linking the condition with a person's identity to such an extent that the person's other identities will always take the backseat, if the observer is even willing to entertain identities beyond 'a Down syndrome person' to begin with. In reality, any awareness about Down syndrome focusing on anything specific (I use this word while understanding that there is nothing purely specific to Trisomy 21) regarding Down syndrome will naturally work to Other people with Down syndrome for the unaffected observer. Awareness can erode individual personhood by zeroing in on perceived commonalities and differences from the 'general populace' in a way that directly and simply links them to that triplicate of the 21st, instead of making all of the necessary connections, such as the connections to and considerations of intellectual ability, gender, upbringing, nationality, daily routine, age, height, placement in the order of siblings, religion, genetic makeup, ethnicity, social circles, hair color, education, physical ability, disposition, and countless, countless, other outside factors. I say 'outside', because the importance we attach to any of these factors, including one's chromosome count, comes from the 'outside', the social constructs at work in our environment.

My child does not enjoy music because she has Down syndrome. She enjoys music because she has existed since before her birth constantly listening to it, because I enjoy music, because she's been enrolled in music classes since she was 6 months old, because I sing to her, because her father sings to her, because her grandparents sing to her, because if I run out of avenues to entertain her I put on Baby Signing Time - the ones with all of the songs, because she sees that music makes the people around her happy and content and it's part of the celebration in our lives. Yes, the love of music is in her genes too, but she doesn't enjoy it because she has a third copy of the 21st chromosome.

Notice the difference?

Awareness can all too easily become about "Down syndrome things." It can slip from medical conditions slightly more prevalent in the population with Ds to complex behavioral patterns directly linked to the chromosome, insidiously enforcing Othering and, in the worst case scenario, allowing for medical professionals, far too quickly, to brush off valid medical issues that need attending to with "We often see this in Down syndrome," and simply resort to awareness instead of taking action (See what I'm doing here, making too simplistic a connection, a connection that kind of sounds like it fits and in a way it does, but when you really think about it hides behind it a much more intricate process?)

Granted, this looking at perceived commonalities can make us parents of individuals with Ds feel safe and secure in shared experience, but is it really worth it? Do I need 'support' and 'community' more than I need for the world to accept my child as is, without a laundry list of 'Associated with Down Syndrome'? Do I crave similarity and things made simple more than I do the adventure and acceptance of the unknown that is the individual life I lead? In reality, Down syndrome is not even a syndrome. It's a genetic variant called Trisomy 21, not a group of co-occurring symptoms. The symptoms of Down syndrome are after all such horrifying inflictions as a single palmar crease, epicanthic folds, impaired intellect, and other life-threatening abnormalities, none of which are present, ever, in the general population, but are always, always present in Down syndrome. There really should be a pill, you know.

Excuse me while I scream in frustration. Having to be that facetious and liberal with italics does that to a person, you know.

(There would be a really cool gif right here of someone notorious screaming, right after rolling their eyes, if I were able to create one. Or understood what gifs are, really. Next century, I swear.)

I like a nice community feeling, of course I do. Do I believe that having Down syndrome should naturally lead to membership in a community, a tribe? Is there anything so specific about Down syndrome that my child needs to have others in her life who also have Down syndrome, have a doll that has Down syndrome, or have her parents associate with other parents of children with Down syndrome? No. I do believe that there may come a time that my child will enjoy having friends who also have an intellectual disability, and/or will have a hard time keeping friends who do not have an intellectual disability, yes, but that doesn't have anything to do with Down syndrome specifically. There may also come a time that she will not want to play with some kids because they're not into playing 'zoo' or building with legos, and there might come a time she won't want to hang out with someone because all they speak about is the crappy music of the latest Justin Bieber, and, well, there's just more to life than tween pop.

I'll let her find her own way.

Ideally, I'd like to have her find it without having a certain type of awareness hanging over her head while she's trying to go up and talk to a kid, sign 'play', and then rip a ball right out of that kid's hands like that's what it means to share (true story, y'all). In the future, she might not always fit in because of how our society treats people with intellectual disabilities, but because of her Down syndrome? Only if we let it become synonymous with her identity.

Ideally, I'd like to be a part of a larger disability community as an ally. A community which unites because of how the 'able' population in society view and treat their disabled fellow humans, not because I'm interested in romanticizing the extra chromosome in my daughter's cells. A community that doesn't commiserate and isn't heavy handed with honey (and fundraising) when in fact vinegar is called for.

So while I celebrate my child in this month of October, it being her birthday month and all, and in all the other months, and while I have no problem whatsoever with Down syndrome in general, and my kid's Down syndrome which I wouldn't wish away in a million years, specifically, I wish we were part of a community that comes together as a resistance formed because of the segregation and oppression of those with Down syndrome, not a community that unwittingly sometimes contributes to the Othering of my child and others like her (See what I did there? That's how easily we slip and begin sliding...).

Anyhoo, who's in for a little overthrowing? I'm free most Saturdays and come with wine.

This post appeared originally on 21+21+21=?

Believe and Live

I love this article by Anita Cameron about different kinds of disability advocacy tools. She argues that nothing will ever get done without direct action. "Right on, right on," I say. I believe that too. Nice is not enough. But still, taking direct action implies we all know, and agree on, just exactly what we are fighting for. Right?

So what is it? What am I doing here and elsewhere?

For me it all comes down to acceptance, meaningful inclusion, and equality.

None are currently a complete reality, but they all are the logical next step for humanity which evolves and progresses (and thus isn't on a crash course with some sort of an apocalypse). But most people don't seem to know that.

We need vision.

So much about all of this is vision. So much about this is expecting more than we think will happen, faster than we think anything will happen. It is expecting a large scale societal change and behaving as if this large scale change is imminent. Practically already here. Happening as I shout.

It is about not getting discouraged and just doing what's best for my specific kid or myself, right here and right now.

I don't want to only focus on the haters and the trolls, I want us to sway those who lazily vacillate, those who have good intentions, and those who just don't know any better. I want to scream our vision the loudest. To make it the all-encompassing truth, the reality, the now.

I want to kill the positive stereotypes and the well-meaning misunderstandings about a 'mystical' chromosome. I want to stop allowing for reductionism for inspiration's sake because it is the lesser of two evils.

In my vision the evil trolls will be recognized as the minority they are. Those closeted sociopaths. I'm not so worried about that anonymous, faceless person who spews his or her vitriol in an online comment to an article about a person with a disability. I'm more worried about my kid's future teacher, her friend's mother, my neighbor, and that guy who packs my groceries. I worry that they won't really believe in inclusion because they haven't experienced it, that they won't see it as the most logical thing to do because no one's told them that it is.

I don't worry so much about hate as I do lazy ignorance. I don't worry so much about someone blowing off steam, than I do those minds who've never even really thought about people with Down syndrome or other disabilities as fellow human beings, because they're so used to understanding 'able is normal' as a fundamental fact, just because it gets insidiously reinforced at every turn. I worry about those who perceive people who are disabled as inspirational, marginal, apart, similar amongst themselves, and here on earth for purposes external to themselves, purposes other than living their individual lives. A perceived unity of the experience of disability concerns me.

Most people follow, they adapt, they go with the flow. We, as advocates, need to define the current.

We have an audience.

We can set targets all we want and meet them, but unless we actively work to redefine the rhetoric - the way most people view disability and especially intellectual disability, language and all - we'll always have new targets, new ways of oppression, and the fight will never end. We can't just tackle the immediate, we need to reconstruct the foundation. Sometimes that involves peering inwards too, at our own world view and thinking. It has very much meant that for me, at least.

There is a lot of discussion about being united and unified in our efforts, but how can we? We don't agree. For me there are things that simply cannot coexist if an ableist way of thinking is to be dismantled.

I can't be all "accept my kid as is, but in case you do figure out how to suck that extra chromosome right out of her very cells, please call us, we're interested." You can't say "my child deserves to be included in everything her peers are, but you know, if she gets bullied or we feel she's getting frustrated with learning math, relocate her into a nice self-contained location, for her own sake." We can never say "achievements and normalcy are arbitrary social constructs and we need to understand that, but hey, more therapies to help my struggling child the better, before she falls too far behind her peers."

I will have to constantly examine my own thinking, my own language. Will it be my child who is frustrated, unhappy, struggling, or will it be me? Am I fixing my child for the world instead of the world for my child? When did a life of achievements become the life?

We have to turn the tables.

We have to say "There is no discussion. Inclusion has to be a fact as it is a practice that benefits all. Inclusion is the natural state of things. Through inclusion everyone's experience, everyone's life will be just that much more normal (pun very much intended), and everyone will be accepted as a member of the human race and society, with whatever that entails, attempts at peaceful coexistence and conditional love."

We can't try to sell or market disability: "please accept my kid, she is not just a useless eater, she can do all of these things." Doing things isn't a precursor to humanity, being human is. We can't mystify or romanticize the chromosome and ascribe to it some specific, sometimes even supernatural-sounding traits or abilities: "Looksee here, that chromosome's special, if we eradicate it, we eradicate our pathway to the mysteries of cancer treatments or Alzheimer's." Three copies of the 21st chromosome are a part of 6 million people worldwide, and that should be enough to warrant general scientific interest. Or at least I'm going to act as if it is.

I will believe it and live it.

Disability is natural. Down syndrome is natural. It's about time everyone knew.


This post originally appeared on 21+21+21=? 

Antidote

I don't want to write about Robert Ethan Saylor.

I don't want to write about how he cried for his mother right before he died. I don't want to write about how the people whose actions left him dead are already back at work protecting others, or selling another ticket to a movie, or looking back at that night when a life was lost while they did nothing because someone qualified was taking care of it, or because they were afraid ...of him? I don't want to write about how confused, biased, and embarrassingly void of thought, real research, and understanding the media coverage concerning his death, and his life, has been. I don't want to write about the deafening silence from those who get a salary for representing Ethan and all people with Down syndrome (never again paid by my daughter), and then, too late, filling that empty air with even emptier words. I don't want to write about agendas or people who can't come together even in death, and who bicker, or try to one-up each other in some strange game of 'Whose cause is this?', or people who look at their own child with Down syndrome and still see other, or people who don't see a problem with a police department investigating its own employees. I don't want to write about people who hide behind the anonymity of the internet to spew their venom on 'retards', unsuspecting parents, and at anyone who reads the comment section in a newspaper (you are scum and I feel sorry for you). I refuse to write just because if I don't, the Department of Justice might just think that this horror, this violation of basic human rights, this dismissal of 6 million people has blown over, because there have been some vague promises of 'training' for people, who are supposed to be protecting my daughter as an individual, on how to see her and the other 6 million exactly like her even more differently, as strangers in their own homes, as beings beyond comprehension by the simple power of common sense.

I don't want to. Ethan isn't the cause of this. He isn't to blame. Neither is his Down syndrome. The blame belongs on the shoulders of those whose actions led to Ethan suffocating to death, and on a society in which a person's life is instantly deemed to be of lesser value, less worth saving, dismissible, or to have a potentially dangerous, out-of-control component, when his assumed IQ score is below 70.

Society needs fixing. Those of you who look at Ethan or my kid and don't see a person, an equal, need fixing. Adjustment. Change. You don't get to judge my daughter, I get to judge you.

Successful communication is not an effortless task. Communication takes practice, patience, compassion, and a willingness to listen and to try to understand. Communication takes years and years to learn and even then, in any given situation, at any given time, communication might fail. Even with the best of intentions on all sides.

But what if the intention, the willingness to understand, is not there? What if, instead of seeing and listening to a person trying to communicate with you, all you see is a stereotype?

He isn't small? He isn't cute? He's not smiling either? There's no belly laugh. He's not happy. He's not contained. Where is his keeper? Why is he by himself? Who let him out? He's reacting. He won't understand anything but force. Not fit to be out in public. Those can't be words. They don't understand. They don't think. Did he just say 'mom'? Nah. Couldn't have. Retard strength. Better watch out. 

But what if you grew up having a friend who had Down syndrome? A student in your class? What if the lady who sells you your weekly lottery ticket and you regularly chat to had Down syndrome? What about a coworker, your boss? What if a kid in your daughter's soccer team had Down syndrome, in your son's ballet class, a guy in your aunt's book club, that lady who golfs with your sister-in-law? What if your favorite television show had a character with Down syndrome? How about the bartender at your favorite Friday-night watering hole? What if you had that Friday-night beer sitting by your friend who has Down syndrome, listening to his woman troubles or work stories, and telling him about this weird mole on your back, or how you think your car might not need all of those repairs the shop's quoting you for? What if we valued everyone, included everyone, and then let the chips fall where they may? What if we didn't assume anything, but looked at everyone as an individual?

What if people with Down syndrome really were included in every aspect of society? What if we all made an effort to understand, to communicate?

Simplistic? Maybe. A real choice? Yes.

Include. Interact. Accept. Embrace. All four are choices you can make. Today.

Natural

Let me open with the most important message that I am ever going to give to you. A message I will shout from the rooftops as long as I'm here on this earth. A message that fuels my advocacy and activism and allows for me to leave good intentions and acts of kindness that are really moments of pity or charity in the dust, fallen by the wayside with other outdated and faulty notions. A message that I believe in with every fiber of myself, and that guides my parenting, my relationships, and my being.

Disability is natural.

Down syndrome is natural.

Trisomy 21, or Down syndrome, is a frequently occurring genetic variant, highly viable with life, and something that simply, naturally occurs. Down syndrome is not the other. In a parallel life, you could have Down syndrome. In this very life, you could have very well been born with Down syndrome.

And that wouldn't make you unnatural, challenged, broken, or less than human. You would still be you.

Down syndrome does not need to be fixed or 'normalized'. It needs to be allowed to exist as something that is an acceptable and natural part of some people, our equals in everything, regardless of their perceived capabilities. Meeting milestones, or being highly functional (whatever the hell that means) is not 'winning' at Down syndrome, or at life. Living life, and having equal opportunity for the same experiences as everyone else is what life is all about.

You know, being human. Having rights and responsibilities, and being able to decide what to do with those rights, and whether to honor those responsibilities. And, facing the consequences.

On the 21st it is World Down Syndrome Day. A special day for celebration and awareness. This year there's some weirdness about wearing loud socks to raise awareness. An icebreaker for discussion? In all honesty, I don't really think either of us needs an icebreaker for awareness. We're evolving.

We need to take action.

You might have gleaned from my last post that simple awareness is no longer doing it for me. I know better now. There is a need for acceptance. There is a need for action. A need to level the playing field. To make every single classroom inclusive in spirit and in space. To remove having Down syndrome as a negative in a college or a job applicant, as is being done in the case of race, gender, and sexual orientation. A need to embrace everyone's uniqueness and individuality without there being some who are 'more different' than others. A need to stop using language - and not just the word retard(ed), but suffers from, is inflicted with, a Down syndrome patient, a risk of Trisomy 21, them - that degrades, demeans, marginalizes and dehumanizes those with intellectual disabilities. A need to focus on how exactly Down syndrome and those with Down syndrome are portrayed and represented in the media. Unfair and biased portrayals, as well as fluff pieces that utilize those with I/DDs for inspirational feel-good in the mainstream need to be publicly denounced.

We need to actively advocate for acceptance and inclusion, even if it means alienating people who are uncomfortable with having their worldview challenged.

We need active acceptance and inclusion, not just passive awareness. We need active involvement by everyone, everywhere, not just slactivism by adding partial visibility with a click, or a smile, or a token birthday invitation. We need a community where admission is not only by a chromosome count, either way.

You don't have to love someone with 47 chromosomes to understand, you just have to be human.

There MUST be an organization that barks up and makes a terrifying stink every time someone in the media, in medicine, in legislation, in the public eye, anywhere in the world, gaffes. Be it the r-word or a homicide swept under the rug. There must be an organization that ensures that there are repercussions for marginalizing acts, for drawing on stereotypes, for exclusion, for dehumanization by language. There must be anger and outrage that leads to shifts in attitude and to organized action. Instead of intentions, we need to focus on consequences, on what is, not what was intended.

We need to stop accepting crumbs, in the fear that if we don't, we might not be 'liked'. 

Why, hello there REVOLUTION. You're needed now.

People with Down syndrome are not defective. Society is defective.

Yet. This is not about legislation, or about funding, or about research. This is about attitudes. This is about human rights.

And the question of who counts as human.

Spread the Word "Day of Action" Blog Symposium

Today, 3:6:13 is a Day of Action.  Today is "Spread the Word to End the Word" Day.  If you are unfamiliar with this campaign and pledge, follow this link.

In honour of today, Down Syndrome Uprising is Spreading the word by hosting a blog symposium.  People from all over the world are encouraged to post about the R word, read what others have to say and comment.  Let's keep the dialogue going.  Let's Talk... about Respect.

Take the Pledge.  End the R-Word.

Please copy and add the code to your post.  If you are having difficulty doing so, please click here.  (Examples of both layouts are provided.)

For Blogger (Java friendly) Users:

<div style="text-align: center;">
This Blog Symposium brought to you by:<br />
<br />
<a href="http://downsyndromeuprising.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><img alt=" photo DSUbannersmall2_zpsfa60ecbb.jpg" border="0" src="http://i1113.photobucket.com/albums/k501/Psychojenic/DSUbannersmall2_zpsfa60ecbb.jpg" /></a></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Add your R-Word post now!&nbsp;</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<!-- start LinkyTools script -->
<script src="http://www.linkytools.com/thumbnail_linky_include.aspx?id=187654" type="text/javascript"></script>
<!-- end LinkyTools script --></div>
</div>

For WordPress (non-Java friendly) Users.:

<div style="text-align:center;">
This Blog Symposium brought to you by:<br />
<br />
<a href="http://downsyndromeuprising.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><img alt=" photo DSUbannersmall2_zpsfa60ecbb.jpg" border="0" src="http://i1113.photobucket.com/albums/k501/Psychojenic/DSUbannersmall2_zpsfa60ecbb.jpg" /></a></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align:center;">
Add your R-Word post now!&nbsp;</div>
<div style="text-align:center;">
<!-- start LinkyTools script -->
<p><a href="http://www.linkytools.com/wordpress_list.aspx?id=187654&amp;type=thumbnail">Click here</a> to enter your link and view all the participating blogs...</p>
<!-- end LinkyTools script -->
</div>

The good kind of revolution (meaning we won't bite unless you give us a reason to)

I'm part of a revolution. I really am (with admin rights to a Facebook page and all that fancy stuff - my first ever. Hrm. Cough. Yeah. Both revolution and admin rights. I know, I'm cool like that).

The Down Syndrome Uprising.

It began here at a typical son, and is becoming something even more awesome here at the DSU Facebook page.

And here and here.

(In case you're wondering, I'm pointing to my heart and then to my head.)

DSU works towards the world (YOU! Now I'm pointing at you, we're doing a lot of that in our house at the moment, you know, pointing in general, not always at you though...) embracing people with Down syndrome, towards changing outdated and wrong perceptions of Down syndrome and what it means to have it, and towards putting information out there that is much, much closer to all of our individual realities of what it means to either be a parent to someone with Down syndrome or what it's actually like to have Down syndrome.

I know my reality is not your reality, but I also think that there's a lot out there that isn't anyone's reality, or was someone's reality a lifetime and longer ago. And that needs to change.

But what does this 'embracing' really mean? I've seen a lot of it lately. To some, disappointingly, embracing and being vocal about it, like starting a blog with lots of cute photos and many words that really cannot be said enough times, seems to mean that one hasn't accepted Down syndrome (No, seriously), to others it means putting someone on a pedestal built of Facebook likes and media attention who really just did what any decent human being should do, such as happened in the case of the Houston waiter who refused to wait on a family who didn't wish to eat in the vicinity of a family whose child had Ds (for reals), and to yet others it means glossing over the condition with such language and attitude that no one is left wondering just how big of a cross to bear a person with Down syndrome is to a family not "safe", but expecting a child with T21 as is evident from this segment on the Today Show (and they have a medical 'expert' who doesn't even use people first language. Geez).

For me this (pointing at the blog, not at the above paragraph though, and then pointing at someone's toes, but that's a whole other non-post) is embracing. What I'm doing right here. Not giving up on awareness and spreading it. Sometimes with pretty pictures, sometimes not, but with plenty of token (not) advocacy. I may not be so aware of my kid's Down syndrome, but other people sure are. Yesterday at the hospital, while sitting outside the lab holding Babe and minding our own rather spit-y patty-cake, we were made from across the waiting room. This time around the person who'd spotted Babe wanted to be near us and talk to us because she too had a kid who has Down syndrome and she needed some positive vibes for the open heart surgery her daughter is having as we speak (so yeah, let's send some. Right now), but there have been other times where someone has spotted Babe and instead of embracing her as a regular toddler, has either made allowances (She knows how to wave hello and good bye and she should do it at the end of Story Time when all the kids do it), or assumed that she has glasses because she has Down syndrome (yes, that makes you nearly blind now too), to give a few examples. I know that sometimes allowances need to be made, accommodations will happen, but they should come after the fact, not pre-emptively due to low or no expectations, and I realize that Babe's poor eyesight can be linked to her having Down syndrome, but the route the observer takes should be more complex, and perhaps allow for her having bad eyesight just because, like in the case of that other kid, who wears the same glasses that Babe does, +6 prescription and all, but doesn't have Down syndrome, and just has bad eyesight, just because.

So I guess I'd like my genes and parenting skills to be at least equally blamed for Babe's shortcomings as Down syndrome is, perhaps even more. You know, embracingly.

Because I am guilty.

So if you're out to do some embracing, join us, like our Facebook page, spread the word, and feel free to blame me, in all senses of the word. There can never be enough advocacy. Thanks.

Cute photo. Deal with it. There's plenty more coming.