In celebrating Dale's freedom from the norm

Dale is turning 12 this December. He knows his condition, but does not dwell on it.

I, on the other hand, cannot take anything lightly. Not when it involves him. You might call me an over-reacting sensitive person. But, I am really, just a person. I have feelings, and I doubt that Dale does not have them as well.

So when a research paper on Genetic Abnormalities was asked of him. He submitted it to his teacher with one question. He asked, "Am I abnormal?"

I was shocked that according to him, his teacher "kinda said yes." I could see in his eyes that he was confused, that he was assessing my reaction. His eyes fleeted. His first answer was a definite "yes," but I asked him "what?" and he might have thought that I would get mad, and added "kinda."

I asked my eldest if it was right for the teacher to have said so. She shook her head.

I actually did not feel too much anger. I felt pity. For my son to have heard that. I would have wanted to be there, to actually hear what and how the teacher answered my son. I might have understood better.

Someone I shared a twitter conversation with said "When I hear "abnormal", I look at the world and think "if this is normal, I don't want any part of it!" Abnormal is to be celebrated."

It might be true, but not when you come from a country like mine. Abnormal here is like having a deadly disease that can be caught from a sneeze.

Sitting on the bus alone during the class field trip, for example. That was what Dale has gone through two days ago. Being dragged fiercely by the collar by his classmate while she was trying to talk to him was another scene I saw when I fetched him from school. Etc.

It's not enough that he gets bullied in school, his brother also makes fun of him and such, at home. He's "abnormal" and he's being bullied. He's "abnormal" and his brother is jealous of him.

What is there to celebrate about?

I am not celebrating the things that might eventually hurt Dale, if he actually.. finally understood the world he lives in.

A world where parents murder their children because they want normal kids. A country where persons with disabilities are shunned, and denied of their rights.

But then again... maybe, I do have to celebrate. I have to celebrate that until now, he doesn't have a clue. That it is a cruel world we live in... and he's lucky not to fully realize yet that he's part of it. A vicious cycle. A sick-cycle carousel.

As I've mentioned before when I watched an episode of House who handled a case of a child with autism, he said:

"See, skinny socially-privileged white people get to draw this neat little circle. Everyone inside this circle is normal. Anyone outside the circle should be beaten, broken, & reset, so they are brought in to the circle. Failing that you should be institutionalized, or worse, pitied."

"So, it's wrong to feel sorry for this little boy?"

"Why would you feel sorry for someone who gets opt-out of the inane courteous formalities which are utterly meaningless, insincere, and therefore degrading? This kid doesn't have to pretend to be interested in your back pain or your excretion or your grandmother's itchy place. Imagine how liberating to live a life free of all the mind-numbing social niceties. I don't pity this kid, I envy him."

You know what I think, though? Dale is not the one who's "abnormal."

We are.

(Hoozah! I'll go get the beers.)