Everyone has that one word that makes them cringe. Moist. Crusty. Juicy. Any of those send a shiver down your spine? When I was younger, it was when my brother called me a "geek." Something about that really got under my skin and burrowed in – I seriously was not that dorky (I promise). Now, as I’ve gotten older, I have narrowed it down to one word that I absolutely cannot tolerate. Young children are taught that list of seven "no-no" words, and this one should be on the very tippy top. I cringe as I have to type it out for you —retarded.
"Since it’s a real word and problem why can’t I use it?" you may retort angrily after I tell you to stop. Yes, mental retardation is real. It is medically defined and can be caused at birth. But don’t be so quick to assume that mental retardation makes life a problem. It’s infuriating, frustrating, and downright painful for me, and many others, to hear it in that connotation. So why is that word so wrong?
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I’ve grown up in a life based around the special needs community. It’s a core part of me. In 19 years, I’ve interacted with people on the entire spectrums of autism, Down syndrome, physical handicaps, etcetera. I’ve seen the good, the bad, and the downright ugly side of the special needs community and how the world interacts with it. I’ve watched the stares that kids receive as we walk across a crowded playground and the side-eye glances when my best friend tries to explain something to me in increasingly higher octaves. Behaviors, odd mannerisms, and sudden outbursts are all things I’ve seen on a daily basis. I’ve been kicked, punched, yelled at, even pushed to the ground. Honestly, it is tough to witness these physical and emotional expressions, and I won’t romanticize it for you.
But I’ve also experienced love on all notches of the spectrums too. Love. Love. Love. Hugs, kisses, smiles, and even the love that isn’t meant as love. This past summer I worked with a program for children with low functioning cognitive disabilities, and I love to see my kids light up at artwork or sports or interacting with other children. Over the course of the summer, I watched one of my kids make no progress in communication. He sat for months not talking, not trying to sign, absolutely nothing. But on our last day together, I pointed to him an animal to sing about in Old McDonald – and he shouted "cat" in the loudest voice I’d heard from anyone all summer, with a big ole grin on his face. I watched his progression and his own personal joy at his new ability. To me, that was love.
Sure, some of my friends and role models may be a little slower or may not speak as clearly as you, but that doesn’t make them a burden. You have a predetermined mindset of what that particular community can offer you when you use retarded in reference to something being stupid or ridiculous. And when you use it, apparently what they have is something for you to make fun of. The ability to sign the entire ASL alphabet? Extensive knowledge of African instruments? A grant for an autism run art program? Hmm. I sure as hell don’t have any of those talents, and as far as I know, neither do you.
To those of you that still use that word, understand now that you need to stop. Especially those that have history with the special needs community and continue to use this word. When the word "retarded" is used, it belittles any accomplishments or characteristics that special needs individuals may offer the world. That word reduces people to a singular, demeaning word. The r-word brings connotations of stupidity, uselessness, worthlessness. What have you gained from diminishing the accomplishments, talents, and core being of an entire community?
So for now, I’m not asking for an apology. I don’t want anything from you. You need something from yourself. You need to find a new understanding of the words coming from within you. From the bottom of my heart, I pray for you to open yourheart to the world around you and that one day you realize how grateful you could be of the experiences the special needs community has to share.
