How to Help Your Child Navigate Encounters With Disability

As the mom of a child with a disability, there are four things I wish everyone knew about interacting with our daughter…

It was moments after giving birth that we found out our daughter was disabled.

At the time, hearing the doctor tell us that her left leg was markedly shorter than her right leg was a gut punch that knocked the wind out of us. I literally couldn’t breathe as I howled with my face buried in my hands. It was honestly the worst possible news I’ve ever gotten.

It’s strange to look back at that moment now and realize how differently I view the entire situation. Yes, I’ve had years of therapy. Years. Enough that I think I’ve paid for our therapists lake house by this point. And yes, our daughter does have a limb difference, uses a prosthetic leg, and is disabled.

But, it didn’t take long for us to realize that there was nothing tragic about either one of those things. She was a sweet baby and grew into one of the kindest and most empathetic toddlers I’ve ever met — her first sentence was “i love you.” She is still extremely tenderhearted to this day, but also has a wickedly sarcastic sense of humor because, you know, I am her mama. She’s fiercely funny, a glorious writer, and has a way with animals that I think rivals Dr. Doolittle. Before Callie, I’m not ashamed to admit that I used to see disability as inherently negative, sad and undesirable. And because I viewed disability through a negative lens, we were also used to tethering our interactions around disability to pity. It wasn’t until Callie was born that I really understood how harmful that reaction could be.

The line between pity and empathy is paper thin. I read this once and loved it–the difference is that empathy stems from listening to another person’s perspective and reacting accordingly. Pity, however, assumes. Assuming that a person with a disability automatically has a harder, sadder, less of a life because of their disability. There is a big difference between listening to a person’s frustrations and then empathizing, “I’m so sorry to hear you’re having a bad day — that sucks!” vs. ASSUMING you know someone’s feelings and then commenting — “Wow, your outfit looks awful today, you must really feel self conscious. You are so brave for going out in public like that.”

Now, I see disability through a completely different lens. One with so much color, variance, ability, nuance, joy, and possibility.

Disability is just another way to exist in this world, and it is not inherently wrong, sad or undesirable. It simply just IS.

Over the past fifteen years, we’ve navigated a lot of interactions between our daughter and other children she meets for the first time. Having a very visible disability — and an awesome rainbow leopard print prosthetic! — means that she never flies under the radar. I’ve seen many children stare and point at her in disbelief, some grabbing at her prosthetic to see if it’s real and some vocalizing their concerns.

“MOM! WHAT IS WRONG WITH THAT GIRL’S LEG?”

A lot of what we teach our children about kindness and being inclusive goes literally out the window when they see someone who is noticeably different. Especially when they have never encountered someone with differences before in real life. It’s not because these kids are mean or want to make fun of a child with a disability. It’s because they are kids. It’s because they have so many questions! And concerns! And how’s and why’s and how comes. It’s really, really hard for a kid to remember to “be nice” when you’re also trying to comprehend wheelchairs, limb differences, mermaid print prosthetic legs, walkers, leg braces, service dogs, or any number of things that set our special needs kids apart.

Kids are curious. And that’s 1000000 % OK. But curiosity can quickly turn to exclusion, discomfort, and even cruelty if kids navigate these interactions on their own. As parents, we must be the ones to thoughtfully teach our kids about differences.

And likewise, I’ve seen many parents and caretakers at a loss for how to navigate what they view as an embarrassing situation. It may seem like the best idea is to leave. Immediately. Exit stage left. And many of them do, while shushing their children because it seems like the polite thing to do. I’m sure I would have done the same thing years ago. But having walked in these shoes for the last fifteen years, I’d love to suggest an alternative: Stay.

How to Help Your Child Navigate Encounters With Disability

1) Don’t walk away + questions are okay

There is a lot to process when a child sees another child with special needs–feelings can range from curious, to nervous, to scared, to just plain confused. Let your child know that questions are okay and you will do your best to answer them. For example, if your child points at my daughter and says, “What happened to her leg?!” my suggestion would be to get down on your child’s level and explain that some people are born differently than other people. Refer to other differences, like hair color, skin color, glasses, etc. It may help if you reference friends or relatives who have a wheelchair, walker, etc. Invite your child to introduce themselves to the other child. If the parent/caregiver is nearby, you could say, “My child has some questions about your child, do you feel comfortable sharing a little about him/her?” I can’t speak for most parents, but I do know that if someone came up to us and asked, 99% of the time I’m going to be open to talk.

Even though your first instinct will be to flee the premises when your child asks a seemingly embarrassing question about someone’s disability–leaving the situation can actually unintentionally reinforce an “other” mentality. It reinforces to our kids that a person with a disability is not someone we interact or play with. It teaches kids that they need to stay away from someone with a disability and that they should ignore them. Staying and having a conversation can instead build bridges of friendship and inclusion.

***Of course I can’t speak for all special needs families, but the vast majority agree with this “stay and talk” approach. That being said, keep in mind that special needs families deal with these interactions all the time and we have our “off” days, and “I don’t feel like dealing with this right now” moments. If someone says they aren’t up to talking, then thank them for their transparency and wish them a good rest of their day.

2) Reinforce kindness

While it’s important not to shame kids for their curiosity, it’s also very important to let children know in no uncertain terms that certain things are NOT okay. It’s not okay to point, stare, laugh, call names or use rude words. Even if your child does this innocently — “She looks weird!” or “Eww, what’s wrong with her leg??” — please correct them. For example, “That’s not a nice word, and that might hurt her feelings” or “She’s has different legs than yours, but she’s not weird.” Firmly, kindly, but the correction needs to be made promptly.

Personally, it’s the stares that get to me the most now. We’ve navigated enough outlandish experiences in the last 15 years that I consider myself a pro, but to this day I sometimes catch kids openly staring at Callie and a little part of my heart breaks. Please talk to your kids about staring.

3) Find common ground

Once your child has some understanding that some people are different, now is a great time to find some common ground: “Look she is playing Legos and you love Legos too!” You can then ask the child or the child’s caregiver what else they like to do. Establishing common ground is KEY. This is when the light goes on and children realize, “Oh, she’s just another kid, like me. She likes Legos just like me. She is wearing a My Little Pony shirt just like me. We are more alike than different!”

4) Emphasize strengths

I try to emphasize that Callie has strengths and abilities, too. Yes, there are some things she can’t do, like ride a bike, but, “Wow, she can ride horses!” Or “Guess what? She can shoot a bow and arrow!” It’s super important for kids to understand that everyone has something they’re good at.

I’ll let you in on a little secret–you may not navigate this interaction perfectly and that’s ok. You might fumble for words or be at a loss, or you may completely bumble your way through it. At the end of the day, most people will appreciate your effort and help you in the process. I’ve gone into many, many elementary school classrooms to teach kids about disability — about my daughter — and I have seen their curiosity and hesitancy turn to acceptance and inclusion in a matter of minutes simply because we took the time to talk about it and share our lived experiences.

In my experience, education makes ALL the difference when it comes to teaching our children about disability and creating a community of inclusion.