I took my 13-year-old son (J2) to the mall the other day.  In the heat and humidity of Auckland’s summer it’s a relief to be able to go somewhere air-conditioned to have a leisurely stroll. As I helped him out of the car, I realised that it had been a while since I had last taken him to the mall by himself – without his little sister.  It was just him and me, and he knew it!  Every few steps we took, he would look up at me (actually he’s slightly taller than me now – but he tends to stoop a bit) and grin this huge grin and his eyes would shine .  Sometimes he would stop walking altogether, flap his arms in excitement and let out a happy yelp. 

It made me feel pretty good knowing that I was bringing pleasure into his day; his face was simply radiating joy.  I felt so proud to be his mum – “this is my son!” I wanted people to know.  Why did I feel such pride?   I think because he is a beautiful person who has to put up with a lot in life.  I’m not saying he’s perfect or that he is always happy.  But, on the whole, he is content with very little.  He can’t talk, he’s in nappies, walking is very awkward for him, and he has the intellect of a 9-month-old, but despite all of that he is smiling at me.  

I’m sure that many other “normal” 13-year-olds at the mall that day would have been complaining, demanding, expecting.  Not my son!  (I don’t even know if he understands that you can buy things at shops!)  It’s just a big, exciting, stimulating environment full of people and noise to him…  although, I have to say, he has clicked on to the fact that malls often go hand in hand with food courts, and food courts usually have Mc******s (he simply loves their cheeseburgers and nuggets).

So, I’ve talked a bit about Pride (the positive kind) but where does Prejudice fit in?  I think so many of us are guilty of having prejudices about people with disabilities.  We can instantly have negative thoughts when we are put in a situation where we may have to help them,  deal with them, or come into contact with them in some way.  We think that they might force us to slow down, they may take up more of our time than a “normal” person.  We may be embarrassed.  We may not enjoy ourselves. 

Even I have to admit to being guilty of some of these thoughts with my own son!  And I have to say that there is some truth in these perceptions: it does take more effort and energy because you will be looked at, it will take longer, and he will make a lot of noise.  He might spill the drink everywhere, he might soil his nappy, and he might get agitated.  But thinking of all the negatives isn’t a good way of spending quality time with your son, and it isn’t a good way of viewing people who have disabilites. 

I think what made this particular outing so enjoyable was: there was no rush, no deadlines, we could take our time and go at his pace not mine (we have become so preoccupied with time-efficiency and become too task focussed instead of people focussed); it wasn’t about me and my enjoyment – the outing was for him, for us (it is too easy to be self-centred and me-focussed in life and as a result we can miss out on so much including the opportunity to be involved in other people’s lives); I was able to focus on all the positives – to me they far out-weighed any negatives (it is amazing how much a negative, pessimistic view of life squeezes out any pleasure). 

I had simply forgotten how much joy my son brings into my life.  Wow, there’s a confession!  Perhaps I had allowed the typical world’s view of disability to hyjack my own views?  Maybe life had got on top of me and tiredness and negativity had distorted my outlook?

This year I am going to spend more quality time with my son (without J3 being around!)  Going on special outings – just him and me, talking, playing, cuddling.  Things that will remind him that he is special to me, that I love him and am so proud of him.