Differently Normal

Last semester I was in a performance class fulfilling one of my requirements for graduation. Not only was this a class that did not interest me in the least, but it also made me do what I hate most: Give speeches or presentations in front of really intelligent professors and students. I am not an introverted person, but standing in front of a group of peers declaring things that I firmly believe in can be quite intimidating.

So, for my final project, I decided to pick something that was easy for me to talk about-- autism. I knew a lot about it, had worked with kids who were on varying levels of the spectrum, and had become known by friends as the autism advocate. It is something that is near and dear to my heart and I knew that I could give a performance about it in hopes of teaching people what this growing epidemic meant.

I usually blackout when I am giving presentations. Literally, I have no idea what I said up there, but I guess my professor was listening because she gave me a great grade and when I ran into her again in the pit the other day she reminded me of what I said. Apparently I said, "Normal is a setting on a washing machine."


Normal. What a loaded word.

I remember when I was a little girl-- about preschool age-- there was a boy in my class named Daniel and he had Down syndrome. I don't recall a lot about him, but I remember that we were buds. We would sit in a pink bean bag chair, read books together, and play on the monkey bars. I also specifically remember a time when we both decided to taste Elmer's glue together and I remember one of my teachers running over to stop us-- but that's beside the point. Daniel was the first person who taught me to look past differences-- however, it wasn't that hard at that age.

Fast forward to my freshman year of high school and I met Jack and Jake and forever my life would be changed. These twin boys with autism made me the advocate that I am today.

Fast forward to college, I got the amazing opportunity to work at the National Down Syndrome Society and got a chance to work with Chris Burke, a famous actor from Life Goes On who also has Down syndrome, defined by an extra twenty-first chromosome. And again, my life as an advocate grew stronger.

April is Autism Awareness Month.

March 21st was Down Syndrome Awareness Day. 

As I mentioned in my previous post, I am reading Bloom by Kelle Hampton, and I have literally been soaking up every last word she says about her experience of finding out that her second daughter, Nella, had Down syndrome. How her perfect image of what a person should be changed when Nella was born and how this unexpected twist in her life changed her for the better. Made her stronger. Made her more capable.

While I will never understand what it's like to have a child with either Down syndrome or autism, I know that I can work to help make the world a "safer" place for those who do have children with either of these disorders. Help to bring awareness. Help others to understand that no one is normal and that differences are what make us beautiful. Differences are what should be celebrated.

Love and respect others, no matter their abilities.

"The concept of perfection is not flawless or ripped from a magazine. It's happiness. Happiness with all its messiness and not-quite-thereness. It's knowing life is short, and the moments we choose to fill our cup with should be purposeful and rich. That we should be present for life, that we should drink deeply. And that's perfection."
Bloom: Finding Beauty in the Unexpected, Chapter 15 -- Kelle Hampton