Mountain

Which bigotry first?

We arrived in Kanasas City where we have the weekend off before beginning work next week. As we always stay in the Residence Inn, they have kitchens, we were off buying groceries for supper at a huge store just a few blocks from here. When we went in the first thing I spotted was a Starbucks. Because the US doesn't have a Tim Horton's every few miles, it had been a long time since I'd had a tea. I looked at Joe pleadingly and without a word we headed for Starbucks.

I ordered a green tea and Joe had a regular and as we waited for them to be made I listened, as you already know I do, to the women talk behind the counter. They were talking about the tragedy at Virginia Tech. I popped into the conversation to tell them that it was weird seeing images of the school because I worked there for a week every year for about 5 years. One of Virginia's big conferences was held on campus for years before it moved to Roanoke. Seeing the campus, the building I stay on campus in was weird.

They were really chatty. After hours and hours in a car with just each other, it was great to have other voices to listen to.

"You know what scares me," the youngest of two young woman said.

"What," we all asked, some with voices some with eyes.

"There's this kid, he's a mongoloid or something and he lives down the street from me. Now I'm worried all the time about him. When is he going to snap?"

The other woman, sympathetic, said, "I don't know why they just don't lock them all away."

You ever have the feeling that you got a mountain to move and only a sugar spoon to move it with? I think to myself - stay calm, be rational, be succinct.

"May I help you with that," I asked "you see I work with people with intellectual disabilities."

"This kid isn't intellectual," she said with all seriousness, "he's retarded."

"OK, well, intellectual disability is a nicer way to say 'mentally retarded' and he's got Down Syndrome. Mongoloid is a word that isn't used anymore. But," I said quickly as I could see them bogging down in terms," that's not the issue. People like your neighbour are amongst the least likely to carry out a tragedy that you will see on television."

That got their interest.

They asked a lot, I mean a lot, of questions. They were really quite curious about disability and the difference between (in their terms) mental illness and mental retardation and were suprised that there was that much of a difference.

As we wound done the converstation, I noticed thier ages.

"Did you guys have kids with disabilities in your school?" I asked.

"Yeah, we had a special class in mine," said one.

"Me too," said the other.

And that didn't teach you that kids with disabilities were ok?

"Well, nobody hung with them and we weren't told much about them. I think most of us were just a little scared of them."

"Me too," said the other.

"Oh," said I.

"A talk like this would have helped."

I'm glad I helped. Glad I went for tea. But I felt I'd moved a grain of sand from a mountain that grows every time difference is equated with violence.