Much of what I have shared in the past month has been theory. From William Stillman, to Harold Kleinert, to my most recent post on the work of Stanley Greenspan, little has been said about how we as a Church address, both socially and academically (theologically), our communities of persons with disabilities. For our immediate community, Derry Presbyterian Church, this has meant allowing the speaking-center (The Disabled God, Eiesland, p. 81) to shift from the ever dominant majority voice, to the voice of persons with disabilities. Nancy Eiesland calls us to remember that, "Many persons with disabilities have yet to experience being at the speaking center - not only talking about ourselves [themselves] but talking to other people with disabilities." In an effort give voice to our persons with disabilities and their care communities, our journey has lead us to begin a family mentorship program loosely based on that of the University of Kentucky.
For Derry, this has meant identifying our community of persons with disabilities and asking each individual and their community of care to share with us their expertise. Each of the six individuals (all under the age of fifteen) and their care communities have committed to beginning a conversation in which they serve as the expert, in which they share not only their day to day lives but also their often overlooked strengths. These conversations will each look different, some will take place in the home during homeschooling lessons, others at tennis matches and baseball games, and still others during family down time at locations of their choosing. The goal of these conversations is not to collect data on the individuals or to create a theory, but rather to begin a relationship in which the speaking center shifts and the conversation is no longer framed as what can I do for you, but rather how would you like to serve and what do you need to make it happen.
As our journey comes to life my prayer is that the important voices might be heard, that through conversation and fellowship the work of the Holy Spirit might be life changing for all.
Friday, May 21, 2010
Friday, May 7, 2010
Make sense?
As I type, I feel the keys beneath my fingers moving and responding to my gentle force. I hear the music coming from the speakers and know that the instrument is a guitar. I smell an aroma wafting past my nose and I recognize the welcomed sent of my morning cup of coffee and I anticipate the taste to follow. As I type, I watch the words appear on the screen and know that my message is being recorded for others to read. But what if suddenly I didn't understand the connection between the movement of my hands and the odd symbols appearing on the screen, or the soothing sound of the guitar suddenly sounded like a high pitched screeching that blocked all other senses? For many individuals with disabilities (IWD) sensory differences are a reality.
In The Child with Special Needs, author Stanley Greenspan articulates well the various sensory differences that each of us can face. Greenspan identifies sensory differences in the following areas: auditory, visual, cognitive, affective (emotional), and motor processing. For many who have relationships with IWD four of the five (auditory, visual, cognitive, and motor) sensory areas are apparent and are often the focus of various therapies and treatments. However, as Greenspan writes, "the area of processing that is most overlooked is affective, or emotional processing. The child who has affective-processing difficulties faces challenges reading other people's emotional signals." (Greenspan, 43)
With this in mind, I would invite you to pause for a moment and think through the past hour of your life. Who did you interact with? How did you know what kind of mood they were in? How did you know they were someone who would not hurt you? How did you know that their jovial idiom of 'get out' didn't really mean leave the room? For persons with affective-processing difficulties, daily interactions with others can be a painful task. "From hugs to back pats, smiles to frowns, laughs to cries, the child may feel besieged by sensations that he doesn't understand. And when he responds, often in unexpected ways, his response unleashes more confusing input as the person with whom he's interacting responds to him. Trapped in this escalating dialougue, the child can easily feel out of control and may react with tantrums, inappropriate body movements, or flight." (Greenspan, 43)
Greenspan's work has challenged me for today to think of church in terms of the senses. In our desire to be hospitable, we offer hand shakes and hugs at the door. In our desire to be hospitable, we project the sung and spoken word over a sound amplification system. In our desire to be hospitable, we offer fellowship opportunities such as receptions. In our desire to be hospitable, we prepare a written order of service. The challenge is overwhelming. Our desire to be hospitable to all, leads us to make accommodations for those who are the majority, and many of such accommodations create sensory challenges for those who are not. So perhaps for us as church, a redefining of hospitable is in order. A redefining that can only begin with education and understanding. A redefining that affirms that relationship with IWD and their care communities is the place to start.
In The Child with Special Needs, author Stanley Greenspan articulates well the various sensory differences that each of us can face. Greenspan identifies sensory differences in the following areas: auditory, visual, cognitive, affective (emotional), and motor processing. For many who have relationships with IWD four of the five (auditory, visual, cognitive, and motor) sensory areas are apparent and are often the focus of various therapies and treatments. However, as Greenspan writes, "the area of processing that is most overlooked is affective, or emotional processing. The child who has affective-processing difficulties faces challenges reading other people's emotional signals." (Greenspan, 43)
With this in mind, I would invite you to pause for a moment and think through the past hour of your life. Who did you interact with? How did you know what kind of mood they were in? How did you know they were someone who would not hurt you? How did you know that their jovial idiom of 'get out' didn't really mean leave the room? For persons with affective-processing difficulties, daily interactions with others can be a painful task. "From hugs to back pats, smiles to frowns, laughs to cries, the child may feel besieged by sensations that he doesn't understand. And when he responds, often in unexpected ways, his response unleashes more confusing input as the person with whom he's interacting responds to him. Trapped in this escalating dialougue, the child can easily feel out of control and may react with tantrums, inappropriate body movements, or flight." (Greenspan, 43)
Greenspan's work has challenged me for today to think of church in terms of the senses. In our desire to be hospitable, we offer hand shakes and hugs at the door. In our desire to be hospitable, we project the sung and spoken word over a sound amplification system. In our desire to be hospitable, we offer fellowship opportunities such as receptions. In our desire to be hospitable, we prepare a written order of service. The challenge is overwhelming. Our desire to be hospitable to all, leads us to make accommodations for those who are the majority, and many of such accommodations create sensory challenges for those who are not. So perhaps for us as church, a redefining of hospitable is in order. A redefining that can only begin with education and understanding. A redefining that affirms that relationship with IWD and their care communities is the place to start.
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