Thursday, December 20, 2012

"I Am NOT Adam Lanza's Daughter"

When I first read "I Am Adam Lanza's Mother," I was encouraged by the "strength" of the author who was willing to bear her terrors in raising an emotionally-unstable son. Then I saw this...Disability and Representation... and now am annoyed that I fell into this sensationalism.

I think when I read the first article, I was immediately connecting "Michael" to my dad who was brain-injured when I was a baby and, while his normal mood was kind and loving and generous, he could often "act out" and become threatening. When I was in high school, he waved a gun at my mom and older sister while I was at school, and I slept with a butcher knife under my bed for the next year...just in case.

But I am not "Adam Lanza's daughter."

Anyone who knows my dad would know he's probably the most generous person you'll meet. Growing up, it wasn't uncommon for him to go out to Pizza Hut with my volleyball team after a game and pay for all 20+ people. That was his true heart. So, when he would throw an occasional tantrum, that tantrum DID NOT DEFINE HIM. His generosity and unfailing love for God, me, my sister, and my mom were his true definitions.

I'm not saying any of that to get any special props or sentiment, but to show that I KNOW the fear related to mental disabilities. I've lived that fear and battle with it almost every day. One of my biggest fears is to have a child that is emotionally or mentally disabled. I am terrified of that.

And YET I think it's ridiculous that the first article compared a son with Asperger's to a SCHOOL SHOOTER. The second article was a good dose of reality, showing that mentally-disabled people are STILL PEOPLE. My dad may have had limited moments of anger, but I would never put him in the same category of Adam Lanza. To compare ALL disabled people to school shooters, bombers, etc., is irrational and greatly harmful.

After every national tragedy, people want to know what caused it. Followed by, "How can we prevent it?" We want blame. We want accountability. I want those things, too, but at what cost to our humanity? Are we now going to further stigmatize the disabled? As if there isn't enough fear already. I'm talking to myself here, too, because this fear is real and comes from legitimate sources. We should have options for the welfare of the disabled and their families, but not at the personal cost of the very people we're trying to help. Don't compare the disabled to school shooters...otherwise you'd have to compare EVERY person to a school shooter.

There is evil in every single person's heart. There is potential for heinous acts of cruelty in every single person's heart. It is a choice every single person makes every single day whether or not to act on that inner evil. To lump a group of people as a larger threat than others is irresponsible. Sure, watch out for the disabled. Love them. Care for them. But don't label them as Adam Lanza.

Tuesday, December 18, 2012

Joy in Fear

There isn't much I can add about the Connecticut shooting. Like with 9/11, I can't quite believe it happened. I see the news clips, the distraught faces, grieving families...but none of it clicks. Maybe I'm just not surprised...I've often marveled that there aren't MORE public acts of violence with how crazy this world is. Not that anything should take away from the tragedy that happened, but there's SO much hate that I witness not just from others, but from within myself. If I have to be completely honest, I've enjoyed the hurt of others...while it's not to the point of actively harming innocent people, there is that seed of potential in me and I've often been startled when I start digging around and find it lurking in deeper soil.

Everyone wants an answer for this tragedy: Why did Adam Lanza do it? What was his mother like and did she lead to his instability? How can we limit access to guns? Did video games inspire Lanza's attack? In the gym this morning, the only topics on Newtown related to gun control. There were a few clips of the children, but the 2nd amendment seemed to prove more news-worthy.

I DO think we need to respond in a practical way, reevaluating current systems of gun ownership, parenting, etc. A close family friend, though, believes that whenever national crises happen, the general response is misdirected and that it doesn't recognize the deeper problem of wanting to control our surroundings.

No matter what happens in this world, I don't want to live in fear. Even if I knew that I would live to the ripe old age of 100 with no health problems or financial burdens, I would still be afraid...because there would STILL be things out of my control. I can't control car accidents or the hurt that I see in others. As much as I want to, I can't control students or reason with someone who doesn't want to change. Ryan and I have talked more about moving within the next year. I LOVE the thought of living somewhere completely foreign to me for a couple years, but am scared of having children in a third-world country. Seeing how hard it is to keep the toddlers out of the sink in nursery at church, I don't know how I could keep them out of it 24/7.

But I don't want that fear to keep me from loving life and enJOYing it. I once asked Ryan if he would rather live until 70 and never leave Indiana, or live only until 50 but see the world. Now that I know him better, the answer of "50 and see the world" shouldn't surprise me, but at the time it did. I've been trained to think that a long, healthy life is just naturally better than a short one. The more I witness fear, though, the more I disagree. Sure, I'd choose to live longer, but I don't want to let the FEAR of living a shorter amount of time keep me from joy.

Bah, easier said than done. I'll always be afraid of things that might be...or not be. I want to fight it, though, and see life as a river, not a raindrop.