Diane Sawyer Thinks We're Beautiful and Heartbroken

Is acceptance of your child's disability just a "beautiful way of justifying heartbreak"?

That's what Diane Sawyer seems to think. At any rate, it was her reaction to a Good Morning America segment in which Kristina Chew, the parent of an autistic child and author of the blog Autism Vox, said she wouldn't want to take the autism away from her son. Sawyer characterized such acceptance as putting a happy face on a hopeless situation, and I don't think I've been as annoyed at her since she bemoaned the poverty of Russian orphanages while wearing an extremely expensive-looking fur coat.

Look, I get that a lot of parents of children with autism do feel heartbroken, and the parents of a lot of children with other special needs, too. I don't mean to minimize that distress. But the fact is, as long as society can only conceive of disability in terms of heartbreak, the disabled and their families are never going to get the services they need.

If disabled kids are hopeless and their parents deluded to believe otherwise, then there's no reason to, say, accommodate them in church. There's no reason to listen to parents in the IEP process, because they're just justifying their heartbreak by pretending their children have potential. We live in a society where, if you can't fix something easily, you toss it and get something new. The concept that something that appears broken may just be in want of a different way of working is a hard one to grasp, especially when compassion is so much easier than accommodation.

A number of years ago, I attended an event for parents of children in special education and the professionals who work with them. One of the speakers felt such sympathy toward us poor parents and our heartbroken justifications. She counseled educators to remember that heartbreak when we pathetic souls come to the school advocating for services. When a parent complains that her child has not progressed in speech because the therapy offered is inadequate, the speaker went on, the professional should reach out and put a hand on that parent's shoulder and say, "Your child's disability must cause you so much pain."

Fortunately, no one's ever laid that line on me, 'cause they'd be feeling some pain right back.

If nothing else, it would be nice to have it recognized that "heartbreak," and the justifying thereof, is not the exclusive province of special-needs parents. It's a parenting thing, and wholly inclusive. Plenty of parents have dreams for their children that turn out to be unrealistic, plenty of parents are heartbroken by the way their children's paths have departed from the ones planned, plenty of parents are called upon to accept and embrace and even celebrate the unique and unexpected creatures their offspring turn out to be.

Only difference is, when those parents do it, it's considered right and healthy and about darn time. When parents of kids with perceived disabilities do it, it's beautiful.

Hey, thanks there, Diane. But you can take your compassion and shove it ... um, in the pocket of that nice fur coat.