Re: [AI] New York Times: Growing Up With a Disabled Sibling, By RACHEL ADAMS
Dear Rahul I can't agree more with what you have said. Its not the speciality which holds you back rather its the lack of awareness. No one in the world is perfectly able or disable. Perfection would have made GOD out of us. We don't exist on extremes. Life is shades of grey and we must accept it. To do well in life, one must focus on ones strength, weaknesses would automatically be clouded and obscured. At the end of the day, destiny is decided by whims of stars and we cannot really do much about it. Regards Afroz Sent from my BlackBerry® on Reliance Mobile, India's No. 1 Network. Go for it! -Original Message- From: Rahul Bajaj rahul.bajaj10...@gmail.com Date: Fri, 1 Nov 2013 18:27:44 To: accessindia@accessindia.org.in Subject: Re: [AI] New York Times: Growing Up With a Disabled Sibling, By RACHEL ADAMS Hi all, According to me, it is not fair to put the entire blame on the parents. When any parent finds out that his child is blind, he experiences a great sense of helplessness and despair. In such a situation, he seeks the help of special educators and other people who are closely associated with blind people. My uniform experience has taught me that the aforementioned people generally tell the parents one of the following 2 things: 1. Their blind child will be able to do everything and will lead a completely normal life. 2. Their blind child won't be able to do anything and will live a miserable life. In actuality, the truth always lies somewhere in the middle. So, due to lack of proper guidance, many parents of blind children are unable to provide their child the kind of support and care that he or she needs. Sent from my iPhone On Nov 1, 2013, at 12:36 PM, George Abraham geo...@eyeway.org wrote: Well people always focus on the disability and totally overlook the possibilities. There is an obsession with what cannot be done and as a result the potential list of can dos are missed out. We always are carried away by the half empty glass and forget that glass is half full. -Original Message- From: AccessIndia [mailto:accessindia-boun...@accessindia.org.in] On Behalf Of avinash shahi Sent: 01 November 2013 12:15 To: AccessIndia: a list for discussing accessibility and issues concerning the disabled. Subject: Re: [AI] New York Times: Growing Up With a Disabled Sibling, By RACHEL ADAMS Rightly said Shireen Majority of parants, unless proven wrong consider a disabled child as liability. So investments of all kinds, are directed towards care-givers rather than for enhancing their capabilities to live an independent and dignified life. On 11/1/13, Shireen Irani shireen@gmail.com wrote: well, at the same time we mustn't forget the bleak other side of things. there are also a lot of parents who do exactly the opposite and neglect their blind children if they have other so called normal kids. a student of mine was driven to suicide because he wanted to shift to another city to study law, and his parents said y should we invest so much money on u when your brother is more likely to do better and take care of us in the future. that kid was a briliant musician. but of course parents these days want only doctors and enginiers to cell in markets. so this too, is true and tragic. On 10/31/13, Anirban Mukherjee sparsha.anir...@gmail.com wrote: good one, very good one! On 10/31/13, Shireen Irani shireen@gmail.com wrote: a wonderful piece. u truely deserve special thanx for bringing to light such diverse nuances of disability with such beautiful pieces of writing on these forums. keep up the great work. thank u avinash. On 10/31/13, avinash shahi shahi88avin...@gmail.com wrote: Mom, when are you going to write a book about me? my 7-year-old son, Noah, asked as we sat on the floor of his room, surrounded by packing materials from the box that had arrived earlier that day. Inside were copies of my new book, each with a picture of me holding Noah's brother, Henry, on the cover. Henry has Down syndrome, and the book is about the first three years of his life. Noah had come home to find Henry admiring it while I danced around taking photos for our Facebook page. Noah stood by watching the commotion patiently enough. He understood that Henry was having his turn. He just wanted to know whether the next book would be about him. http://parenting.blogs.nytimes.com/2013/10/10/growing-up-with-a-dis abled-sibling/?_r=0 The truth is that I have no plans to write a book about Noah. Unlike his brother, he does not have a disability. His arrival was a momentous occasion for my husband and me, but no more than that of any other baby. So far, he has hit all the usual milestones. He makes friends easily, has quirky interests and is successful in school. I think he's brilliant, charming and special. I also know that none of this makes for very good reading. The fact of the matter
Re: [AI] New York Times: Growing Up With a Disabled Sibling, By RACHEL ADAMS
well, at the same time we mustn't forget the bleak other side of things. there are also a lot of parents who do exactly the opposite and neglect their blind children if they have other so called normal kids. a student of mine was driven to suicide because he wanted to shift to another city to study law, and his parents said y should we invest so much money on u when your brother is more likely to do better and take care of us in the future. that kid was a briliant musician. but of course parents these days want only doctors and enginiers to cell in markets. so this too, is true and tragic. On 10/31/13, Anirban Mukherjee sparsha.anir...@gmail.com wrote: good one, very good one! On 10/31/13, Shireen Irani shireen@gmail.com wrote: a wonderful piece. u truely deserve special thanx for bringing to light such diverse nuances of disability with such beautiful pieces of writing on these forums. keep up the great work. thank u avinash. On 10/31/13, avinash shahi shahi88avin...@gmail.com wrote: “Mom, when are you going to write a book about me?” my 7-year-old son, Noah, asked as we sat on the floor of his room, surrounded by packing materials from the box that had arrived earlier that day. Inside were copies of my new book, each with a picture of me holding Noah’s brother, Henry, on the cover. Henry has Down syndrome, and the book is about the first three years of his life. Noah had come home to find Henry admiring it while I danced around taking photos for our Facebook page. Noah stood by watching the commotion patiently enough. He understood that Henry was having his turn. He just wanted to know whether the next book would be about him. http://parenting.blogs.nytimes.com/2013/10/10/growing-up-with-a-disabled-sibling/?_r=0 The truth is that I have no plans to write a book about Noah. Unlike his brother, he does not have a disability. His arrival was a momentous occasion for my husband and me, but no more than that of any other baby. So far, he has hit all the usual milestones. He makes friends easily, has quirky interests and is successful in school. I think he’s brilliant, charming and special. I also know that none of this makes for very good reading. The fact of the matter is that it is unlikely that Noah’s turn will ever come. We parents put a lot of energy into teaching our children to take turns. We try to avoid jealousy and strife by doing our best to ensure that each sibling gets an equal portion. Katie Roiphe wrote recently about the pain of discovering that the promise of sibling equity is a myth. We delude siblings by telling them that they are equal, she argued. The promise that talent, good fortune and accomplishment will be evenly distributed among their ranks is a lie. Inevitably, there comes a time when those inequities are exposed, leading to resentment, insecurity and conflict. Where some siblings overcome such tensions, others — like Ms. Roiphe and her older sister — are irrevocably damaged. Ms. Roiphe’s essay struck a nerve because I have a sister of my own and our relationship has certainly been through the cycles of acrimony she describes. But I also believe that these dynamics are quite different when one sibling is disabled. Instead of starting off with perfect equality, there is an immediate imbalance of health and ability. Instead of discovering, years down the road, how life’s gifts have not been fairly apportioned, that is where the relationship begins. There is abundant literature on the consequences of growing up with a disabled sibling, much of it negative. Books with titles like “What About Me?,” “Being the Other One” and “The Normal One: Life with a Difficult or Damaged Sibling” report that the able-bodied child is often neglected as his or her needs are subordinated to the more pressing demands of the disabled sibling. This asymmetry can lead to all sorts of consequences, from hostility and resentment to compensatory overachievement. Siblings of people with disabilities often complain of feeling isolated and confused. When they are young, they may be fearful of contracting the sibling’s disability, or be stricken by guilt that they are responsible for causing it. They may worry deeply about the disabled sibling’s health and well-being. They may feel compelled to try to be perfect in order to compensate for the obvious imperfections of the disabled sibling. They may also act out, resenting the attention that goes into caring for the disabled sibling. At some point, the typical child may feel shame or embarrassment at having a sibling who is perceived differently by others. As time passes, nondisabled siblings often worry they will be responsible for the long-term care of a disabled brother or sister. Of course, the news isn’t all bad. Some research suggests that growing up with a disabled sibling can also infuse a person with a greater sense of responsibility, patience and compassion for others. Some
Re: [AI] New York Times: Growing Up With a Disabled Sibling, By RACHEL ADAMS
Rightly said Shireen Majority of parants, unless proven wrong consider a disabled child as liability. So investments of all kinds, are directed towards care-givers rather than for enhancing their capabilities to live an independent and dignified life. On 11/1/13, Shireen Irani shireen@gmail.com wrote: well, at the same time we mustn't forget the bleak other side of things. there are also a lot of parents who do exactly the opposite and neglect their blind children if they have other so called normal kids. a student of mine was driven to suicide because he wanted to shift to another city to study law, and his parents said y should we invest so much money on u when your brother is more likely to do better and take care of us in the future. that kid was a briliant musician. but of course parents these days want only doctors and enginiers to cell in markets. so this too, is true and tragic. On 10/31/13, Anirban Mukherjee sparsha.anir...@gmail.com wrote: good one, very good one! On 10/31/13, Shireen Irani shireen@gmail.com wrote: a wonderful piece. u truely deserve special thanx for bringing to light such diverse nuances of disability with such beautiful pieces of writing on these forums. keep up the great work. thank u avinash. On 10/31/13, avinash shahi shahi88avin...@gmail.com wrote: “Mom, when are you going to write a book about me?” my 7-year-old son, Noah, asked as we sat on the floor of his room, surrounded by packing materials from the box that had arrived earlier that day. Inside were copies of my new book, each with a picture of me holding Noah’s brother, Henry, on the cover. Henry has Down syndrome, and the book is about the first three years of his life. Noah had come home to find Henry admiring it while I danced around taking photos for our Facebook page. Noah stood by watching the commotion patiently enough. He understood that Henry was having his turn. He just wanted to know whether the next book would be about him. http://parenting.blogs.nytimes.com/2013/10/10/growing-up-with-a-disabled-sibling/?_r=0 The truth is that I have no plans to write a book about Noah. Unlike his brother, he does not have a disability. His arrival was a momentous occasion for my husband and me, but no more than that of any other baby. So far, he has hit all the usual milestones. He makes friends easily, has quirky interests and is successful in school. I think he’s brilliant, charming and special. I also know that none of this makes for very good reading. The fact of the matter is that it is unlikely that Noah’s turn will ever come. We parents put a lot of energy into teaching our children to take turns. We try to avoid jealousy and strife by doing our best to ensure that each sibling gets an equal portion. Katie Roiphe wrote recently about the pain of discovering that the promise of sibling equity is a myth. We delude siblings by telling them that they are equal, she argued. The promise that talent, good fortune and accomplishment will be evenly distributed among their ranks is a lie. Inevitably, there comes a time when those inequities are exposed, leading to resentment, insecurity and conflict. Where some siblings overcome such tensions, others — like Ms. Roiphe and her older sister — are irrevocably damaged. Ms. Roiphe’s essay struck a nerve because I have a sister of my own and our relationship has certainly been through the cycles of acrimony she describes. But I also believe that these dynamics are quite different when one sibling is disabled. Instead of starting off with perfect equality, there is an immediate imbalance of health and ability. Instead of discovering, years down the road, how life’s gifts have not been fairly apportioned, that is where the relationship begins. There is abundant literature on the consequences of growing up with a disabled sibling, much of it negative. Books with titles like “What About Me?,” “Being the Other One” and “The Normal One: Life with a Difficult or Damaged Sibling” report that the able-bodied child is often neglected as his or her needs are subordinated to the more pressing demands of the disabled sibling. This asymmetry can lead to all sorts of consequences, from hostility and resentment to compensatory overachievement. Siblings of people with disabilities often complain of feeling isolated and confused. When they are young, they may be fearful of contracting the sibling’s disability, or be stricken by guilt that they are responsible for causing it. They may worry deeply about the disabled sibling’s health and well-being. They may feel compelled to try to be perfect in order to compensate for the obvious imperfections of the disabled sibling. They may also act out, resenting the attention that goes into caring for the disabled sibling. At some point, the typical child may feel shame or embarrassment at having a sibling who is perceived differently by others. As time passes, nondisabled
Re: [AI] New York Times: Growing Up With a Disabled Sibling, By RACHEL ADAMS
Well people always focus on the disability and totally overlook the possibilities. There is an obsession with what cannot be done and as a result the potential list of can dos are missed out. We always are carried away by the half empty glass and forget that glass is half full. -Original Message- From: AccessIndia [mailto:accessindia-boun...@accessindia.org.in] On Behalf Of avinash shahi Sent: 01 November 2013 12:15 To: AccessIndia: a list for discussing accessibility and issues concerning the disabled. Subject: Re: [AI] New York Times: Growing Up With a Disabled Sibling, By RACHEL ADAMS Rightly said Shireen Majority of parants, unless proven wrong consider a disabled child as liability. So investments of all kinds, are directed towards care-givers rather than for enhancing their capabilities to live an independent and dignified life. On 11/1/13, Shireen Irani shireen@gmail.com wrote: well, at the same time we mustn't forget the bleak other side of things. there are also a lot of parents who do exactly the opposite and neglect their blind children if they have other so called normal kids. a student of mine was driven to suicide because he wanted to shift to another city to study law, and his parents said y should we invest so much money on u when your brother is more likely to do better and take care of us in the future. that kid was a briliant musician. but of course parents these days want only doctors and enginiers to cell in markets. so this too, is true and tragic. On 10/31/13, Anirban Mukherjee sparsha.anir...@gmail.com wrote: good one, very good one! On 10/31/13, Shireen Irani shireen@gmail.com wrote: a wonderful piece. u truely deserve special thanx for bringing to light such diverse nuances of disability with such beautiful pieces of writing on these forums. keep up the great work. thank u avinash. On 10/31/13, avinash shahi shahi88avin...@gmail.com wrote: Mom, when are you going to write a book about me? my 7-year-old son, Noah, asked as we sat on the floor of his room, surrounded by packing materials from the box that had arrived earlier that day. Inside were copies of my new book, each with a picture of me holding Noah's brother, Henry, on the cover. Henry has Down syndrome, and the book is about the first three years of his life. Noah had come home to find Henry admiring it while I danced around taking photos for our Facebook page. Noah stood by watching the commotion patiently enough. He understood that Henry was having his turn. He just wanted to know whether the next book would be about him. http://parenting.blogs.nytimes.com/2013/10/10/growing-up-with-a-dis abled-sibling/?_r=0 The truth is that I have no plans to write a book about Noah. Unlike his brother, he does not have a disability. His arrival was a momentous occasion for my husband and me, but no more than that of any other baby. So far, he has hit all the usual milestones. He makes friends easily, has quirky interests and is successful in school. I think he's brilliant, charming and special. I also know that none of this makes for very good reading. The fact of the matter is that it is unlikely that Noah's turn will ever come. We parents put a lot of energy into teaching our children to take turns. We try to avoid jealousy and strife by doing our best to ensure that each sibling gets an equal portion. Katie Roiphe wrote recently about the pain of discovering that the promise of sibling equity is a myth. We delude siblings by telling them that they are equal, she argued. The promise that talent, good fortune and accomplishment will be evenly distributed among their ranks is a lie. Inevitably, there comes a time when those inequities are exposed, leading to resentment, insecurity and conflict. Where some siblings overcome such tensions, others - like Ms. Roiphe and her older sister - are irrevocably damaged. Ms. Roiphe's essay struck a nerve because I have a sister of my own and our relationship has certainly been through the cycles of acrimony she describes. But I also believe that these dynamics are quite different when one sibling is disabled. Instead of starting off with perfect equality, there is an immediate imbalance of health and ability. Instead of discovering, years down the road, how life's gifts have not been fairly apportioned, that is where the relationship begins. There is abundant literature on the consequences of growing up with a disabled sibling, much of it negative. Books with titles like What About Me?, Being the Other One and The Normal One: Life with a Difficult or Damaged Sibling report that the able-bodied child is often neglected as his or her needs are subordinated to the more pressing demands of the disabled sibling. This asymmetry can lead to all sorts of consequences, from hostility and resentment to compensatory overachievement. Siblings of people with disabilities often
Re: [AI] New York Times: Growing Up With a Disabled Sibling, By RACHEL ADAMS
Hi all, According to me, it is not fair to put the entire blame on the parents. When any parent finds out that his child is blind, he experiences a great sense of helplessness and despair. In such a situation, he seeks the help of special educators and other people who are closely associated with blind people. My uniform experience has taught me that the aforementioned people generally tell the parents one of the following 2 things: 1. Their blind child will be able to do everything and will lead a completely normal life. 2. Their blind child won't be able to do anything and will live a miserable life. In actuality, the truth always lies somewhere in the middle. So, due to lack of proper guidance, many parents of blind children are unable to provide their child the kind of support and care that he or she needs. Sent from my iPhone On Nov 1, 2013, at 12:36 PM, George Abraham geo...@eyeway.org wrote: Well people always focus on the disability and totally overlook the possibilities. There is an obsession with what cannot be done and as a result the potential list of can dos are missed out. We always are carried away by the half empty glass and forget that glass is half full. -Original Message- From: AccessIndia [mailto:accessindia-boun...@accessindia.org.in] On Behalf Of avinash shahi Sent: 01 November 2013 12:15 To: AccessIndia: a list for discussing accessibility and issues concerning the disabled. Subject: Re: [AI] New York Times: Growing Up With a Disabled Sibling, By RACHEL ADAMS Rightly said Shireen Majority of parants, unless proven wrong consider a disabled child as liability. So investments of all kinds, are directed towards care-givers rather than for enhancing their capabilities to live an independent and dignified life. On 11/1/13, Shireen Irani shireen@gmail.com wrote: well, at the same time we mustn't forget the bleak other side of things. there are also a lot of parents who do exactly the opposite and neglect their blind children if they have other so called normal kids. a student of mine was driven to suicide because he wanted to shift to another city to study law, and his parents said y should we invest so much money on u when your brother is more likely to do better and take care of us in the future. that kid was a briliant musician. but of course parents these days want only doctors and enginiers to cell in markets. so this too, is true and tragic. On 10/31/13, Anirban Mukherjee sparsha.anir...@gmail.com wrote: good one, very good one! On 10/31/13, Shireen Irani shireen@gmail.com wrote: a wonderful piece. u truely deserve special thanx for bringing to light such diverse nuances of disability with such beautiful pieces of writing on these forums. keep up the great work. thank u avinash. On 10/31/13, avinash shahi shahi88avin...@gmail.com wrote: Mom, when are you going to write a book about me? my 7-year-old son, Noah, asked as we sat on the floor of his room, surrounded by packing materials from the box that had arrived earlier that day. Inside were copies of my new book, each with a picture of me holding Noah's brother, Henry, on the cover. Henry has Down syndrome, and the book is about the first three years of his life. Noah had come home to find Henry admiring it while I danced around taking photos for our Facebook page. Noah stood by watching the commotion patiently enough. He understood that Henry was having his turn. He just wanted to know whether the next book would be about him. http://parenting.blogs.nytimes.com/2013/10/10/growing-up-with-a-dis abled-sibling/?_r=0 The truth is that I have no plans to write a book about Noah. Unlike his brother, he does not have a disability. His arrival was a momentous occasion for my husband and me, but no more than that of any other baby. So far, he has hit all the usual milestones. He makes friends easily, has quirky interests and is successful in school. I think he's brilliant, charming and special. I also know that none of this makes for very good reading. The fact of the matter is that it is unlikely that Noah's turn will ever come. We parents put a lot of energy into teaching our children to take turns. We try to avoid jealousy and strife by doing our best to ensure that each sibling gets an equal portion. Katie Roiphe wrote recently about the pain of discovering that the promise of sibling equity is a myth. We delude siblings by telling them that they are equal, she argued. The promise that talent, good fortune and accomplishment will be evenly distributed among their ranks is a lie. Inevitably, there comes a time when those inequities are exposed, leading to resentment, insecurity and conflict. Where some siblings overcome such tensions, others - like Ms. Roiphe and her older sister - are irrevocably damaged. Ms. Roiphe's essay struck a nerve because I have a sister of my own and our
Re: [AI] New York Times: Growing Up With a Disabled Sibling, By RACHEL ADAMS
While agreeing with you entirely, I would like to add another truth which is that no child grows up with the ability to do everything neither does any child grows up to be entirely miserable Parents must accept the blindness as part of the personality of the child and must endeavour to move on with life with the will and commitment to put in all that is needed for the child to evolve as potential allows.. -Original Message- From: AccessIndia [mailto:accessindia-boun...@accessindia.org.in] On Behalf Of Rahul Bajaj Sent: 01 November 2013 23:58 To: AccessIndia: a list for discussing accessibility and issues concerning the disabled. Subject: Re: [AI] New York Times: Growing Up With a Disabled Sibling, By RACHEL ADAMS Hi all, According to me, it is not fair to put the entire blame on the parents. When any parent finds out that his child is blind, he experiences a great sense of helplessness and despair. In such a situation, he seeks the help of special educators and other people who are closely associated with blind people. My uniform experience has taught me that the aforementioned people generally tell the parents one of the following 2 things: 1. Their blind child will be able to do everything and will lead a completely normal life. 2. Their blind child won't be able to do anything and will live a miserable life. In actuality, the truth always lies somewhere in the middle. So, due to lack of proper guidance, many parents of blind children are unable to provide their child the kind of support and care that he or she needs. Sent from my iPhone On Nov 1, 2013, at 12:36 PM, George Abraham geo...@eyeway.org wrote: Well people always focus on the disability and totally overlook the possibilities. There is an obsession with what cannot be done and as a result the potential list of can dos are missed out. We always are carried away by the half empty glass and forget that glass is half full. -Original Message- From: AccessIndia [mailto:accessindia-boun...@accessindia.org.in] On Behalf Of avinash shahi Sent: 01 November 2013 12:15 To: AccessIndia: a list for discussing accessibility and issues concerning the disabled. Subject: Re: [AI] New York Times: Growing Up With a Disabled Sibling, By RACHEL ADAMS Rightly said Shireen Majority of parants, unless proven wrong consider a disabled child as liability. So investments of all kinds, are directed towards care-givers rather than for enhancing their capabilities to live an independent and dignified life. On 11/1/13, Shireen Irani shireen@gmail.com wrote: well, at the same time we mustn't forget the bleak other side of things. there are also a lot of parents who do exactly the opposite and neglect their blind children if they have other so called normal kids. a student of mine was driven to suicide because he wanted to shift to another city to study law, and his parents said y should we invest so much money on u when your brother is more likely to do better and take care of us in the future. that kid was a briliant musician. but of course parents these days want only doctors and enginiers to cell in markets. so this too, is true and tragic. On 10/31/13, Anirban Mukherjee sparsha.anir...@gmail.com wrote: good one, very good one! On 10/31/13, Shireen Irani shireen@gmail.com wrote: a wonderful piece. u truely deserve special thanx for bringing to light such diverse nuances of disability with such beautiful pieces of writing on these forums. keep up the great work. thank u avinash. On 10/31/13, avinash shahi shahi88avin...@gmail.com wrote: Mom, when are you going to write a book about me? my 7-year-old son, Noah, asked as we sat on the floor of his room, surrounded by packing materials from the box that had arrived earlier that day. Inside were copies of my new book, each with a picture of me holding Noah's brother, Henry, on the cover. Henry has Down syndrome, and the book is about the first three years of his life. Noah had come home to find Henry admiring it while I danced around taking photos for our Facebook page. Noah stood by watching the commotion patiently enough. He understood that Henry was having his turn. He just wanted to know whether the next book would be about him. http://parenting.blogs.nytimes.com/2013/10/10/growing-up-with-a-di s abled-sibling/?_r=0 The truth is that I have no plans to write a book about Noah. Unlike his brother, he does not have a disability. His arrival was a momentous occasion for my husband and me, but no more than that of any other baby. So far, he has hit all the usual milestones. He makes friends easily, has quirky interests and is successful in school. I think he's brilliant, charming and special. I also know that none of this makes for very good reading. The fact of the matter is that it is unlikely that Noah's turn will ever come. We parents put a lot of energy into teaching our children
Re: [AI] New York Times: Growing Up With a Disabled Sibling, By RACHEL ADAMS
a wonderful piece. u truely deserve special thanx for bringing to light such diverse nuances of disability with such beautiful pieces of writing on these forums. keep up the great work. thank u avinash. On 10/31/13, avinash shahi shahi88avin...@gmail.com wrote: “Mom, when are you going to write a book about me?” my 7-year-old son, Noah, asked as we sat on the floor of his room, surrounded by packing materials from the box that had arrived earlier that day. Inside were copies of my new book, each with a picture of me holding Noah’s brother, Henry, on the cover. Henry has Down syndrome, and the book is about the first three years of his life. Noah had come home to find Henry admiring it while I danced around taking photos for our Facebook page. Noah stood by watching the commotion patiently enough. He understood that Henry was having his turn. He just wanted to know whether the next book would be about him. http://parenting.blogs.nytimes.com/2013/10/10/growing-up-with-a-disabled-sibling/?_r=0 The truth is that I have no plans to write a book about Noah. Unlike his brother, he does not have a disability. His arrival was a momentous occasion for my husband and me, but no more than that of any other baby. So far, he has hit all the usual milestones. He makes friends easily, has quirky interests and is successful in school. I think he’s brilliant, charming and special. I also know that none of this makes for very good reading. The fact of the matter is that it is unlikely that Noah’s turn will ever come. We parents put a lot of energy into teaching our children to take turns. We try to avoid jealousy and strife by doing our best to ensure that each sibling gets an equal portion. Katie Roiphe wrote recently about the pain of discovering that the promise of sibling equity is a myth. We delude siblings by telling them that they are equal, she argued. The promise that talent, good fortune and accomplishment will be evenly distributed among their ranks is a lie. Inevitably, there comes a time when those inequities are exposed, leading to resentment, insecurity and conflict. Where some siblings overcome such tensions, others — like Ms. Roiphe and her older sister — are irrevocably damaged. Ms. Roiphe’s essay struck a nerve because I have a sister of my own and our relationship has certainly been through the cycles of acrimony she describes. But I also believe that these dynamics are quite different when one sibling is disabled. Instead of starting off with perfect equality, there is an immediate imbalance of health and ability. Instead of discovering, years down the road, how life’s gifts have not been fairly apportioned, that is where the relationship begins. There is abundant literature on the consequences of growing up with a disabled sibling, much of it negative. Books with titles like “What About Me?,” “Being the Other One” and “The Normal One: Life with a Difficult or Damaged Sibling” report that the able-bodied child is often neglected as his or her needs are subordinated to the more pressing demands of the disabled sibling. This asymmetry can lead to all sorts of consequences, from hostility and resentment to compensatory overachievement. Siblings of people with disabilities often complain of feeling isolated and confused. When they are young, they may be fearful of contracting the sibling’s disability, or be stricken by guilt that they are responsible for causing it. They may worry deeply about the disabled sibling’s health and well-being. They may feel compelled to try to be perfect in order to compensate for the obvious imperfections of the disabled sibling. They may also act out, resenting the attention that goes into caring for the disabled sibling. At some point, the typical child may feel shame or embarrassment at having a sibling who is perceived differently by others. As time passes, nondisabled siblings often worry they will be responsible for the long-term care of a disabled brother or sister. Of course, the news isn’t all bad. Some research suggests that growing up with a disabled sibling can also infuse a person with a greater sense of responsibility, patience and compassion for others. Some siblings may be inspired to go into a helping profession, like medicine, teaching or public interest law. Others translate their early experience with disability into a greater appreciation for, and understanding of, the wide spectrum of human differences. I confess to keeping my own list of successful and accomplished people who have a sibling with Down syndrome, which includes the Olympic snowboarder Kevin Pearce (now himself disabled by a traumatic brain injury), the actor and singer Jamie Foxx, the actress Eva Longoria, and Amy Chua of “Tiger Mom” fame (and a Yale Law School professor). I also realize that it’s far too simplistic to say that having a sibling with a disability is either a plus or a minus. More important is the
Re: [AI] New York Times: Growing Up With a Disabled Sibling, By RACHEL ADAMS
good one, very good one! On 10/31/13, Shireen Irani shireen@gmail.com wrote: a wonderful piece. u truely deserve special thanx for bringing to light such diverse nuances of disability with such beautiful pieces of writing on these forums. keep up the great work. thank u avinash. On 10/31/13, avinash shahi shahi88avin...@gmail.com wrote: “Mom, when are you going to write a book about me?” my 7-year-old son, Noah, asked as we sat on the floor of his room, surrounded by packing materials from the box that had arrived earlier that day. Inside were copies of my new book, each with a picture of me holding Noah’s brother, Henry, on the cover. Henry has Down syndrome, and the book is about the first three years of his life. Noah had come home to find Henry admiring it while I danced around taking photos for our Facebook page. Noah stood by watching the commotion patiently enough. He understood that Henry was having his turn. He just wanted to know whether the next book would be about him. http://parenting.blogs.nytimes.com/2013/10/10/growing-up-with-a-disabled-sibling/?_r=0 The truth is that I have no plans to write a book about Noah. Unlike his brother, he does not have a disability. His arrival was a momentous occasion for my husband and me, but no more than that of any other baby. So far, he has hit all the usual milestones. He makes friends easily, has quirky interests and is successful in school. I think he’s brilliant, charming and special. I also know that none of this makes for very good reading. The fact of the matter is that it is unlikely that Noah’s turn will ever come. We parents put a lot of energy into teaching our children to take turns. We try to avoid jealousy and strife by doing our best to ensure that each sibling gets an equal portion. Katie Roiphe wrote recently about the pain of discovering that the promise of sibling equity is a myth. We delude siblings by telling them that they are equal, she argued. The promise that talent, good fortune and accomplishment will be evenly distributed among their ranks is a lie. Inevitably, there comes a time when those inequities are exposed, leading to resentment, insecurity and conflict. Where some siblings overcome such tensions, others — like Ms. Roiphe and her older sister — are irrevocably damaged. Ms. Roiphe’s essay struck a nerve because I have a sister of my own and our relationship has certainly been through the cycles of acrimony she describes. But I also believe that these dynamics are quite different when one sibling is disabled. Instead of starting off with perfect equality, there is an immediate imbalance of health and ability. Instead of discovering, years down the road, how life’s gifts have not been fairly apportioned, that is where the relationship begins. There is abundant literature on the consequences of growing up with a disabled sibling, much of it negative. Books with titles like “What About Me?,” “Being the Other One” and “The Normal One: Life with a Difficult or Damaged Sibling” report that the able-bodied child is often neglected as his or her needs are subordinated to the more pressing demands of the disabled sibling. This asymmetry can lead to all sorts of consequences, from hostility and resentment to compensatory overachievement. Siblings of people with disabilities often complain of feeling isolated and confused. When they are young, they may be fearful of contracting the sibling’s disability, or be stricken by guilt that they are responsible for causing it. They may worry deeply about the disabled sibling’s health and well-being. They may feel compelled to try to be perfect in order to compensate for the obvious imperfections of the disabled sibling. They may also act out, resenting the attention that goes into caring for the disabled sibling. At some point, the typical child may feel shame or embarrassment at having a sibling who is perceived differently by others. As time passes, nondisabled siblings often worry they will be responsible for the long-term care of a disabled brother or sister. Of course, the news isn’t all bad. Some research suggests that growing up with a disabled sibling can also infuse a person with a greater sense of responsibility, patience and compassion for others. Some siblings may be inspired to go into a helping profession, like medicine, teaching or public interest law. Others translate their early experience with disability into a greater appreciation for, and understanding of, the wide spectrum of human differences. I confess to keeping my own list of successful and accomplished people who have a sibling with Down syndrome, which includes the Olympic snowboarder Kevin Pearce (now himself disabled by a traumatic brain injury), the actor and singer Jamie Foxx, the actress Eva Longoria, and Amy Chua of “Tiger Mom” fame (and a Yale Law School professor). I also realize that it’s far too simplistic to say that
Re: [AI] New York Times: Growing Up With a Disabled Sibling, By RACHEL ADAMS
What has been experience of members, that would be more thought-provoking perhaps. My elder sister always asked my parants why Avinash is in Delhi and she studied in Gorakhpur? And there are many more examples,you know. On 10/31/13, Anirban Mukherjee sparsha.anir...@gmail.com wrote: good one, very good one! On 10/31/13, Shireen Irani shireen@gmail.com wrote: a wonderful piece. u truely deserve special thanx for bringing to light such diverse nuances of disability with such beautiful pieces of writing on these forums. keep up the great work. thank u avinash. On 10/31/13, avinash shahi shahi88avin...@gmail.com wrote: “Mom, when are you going to write a book about me?” my 7-year-old son, Noah, asked as we sat on the floor of his room, surrounded by packing materials from the box that had arrived earlier that day. Inside were copies of my new book, each with a picture of me holding Noah’s brother, Henry, on the cover. Henry has Down syndrome, and the book is about the first three years of his life. Noah had come home to find Henry admiring it while I danced around taking photos for our Facebook page. Noah stood by watching the commotion patiently enough. He understood that Henry was having his turn. He just wanted to know whether the next book would be about him. http://parenting.blogs.nytimes.com/2013/10/10/growing-up-with-a-disabled-sibling/?_r=0 The truth is that I have no plans to write a book about Noah. Unlike his brother, he does not have a disability. His arrival was a momentous occasion for my husband and me, but no more than that of any other baby. So far, he has hit all the usual milestones. He makes friends easily, has quirky interests and is successful in school. I think he’s brilliant, charming and special. I also know that none of this makes for very good reading. The fact of the matter is that it is unlikely that Noah’s turn will ever come. We parents put a lot of energy into teaching our children to take turns. We try to avoid jealousy and strife by doing our best to ensure that each sibling gets an equal portion. Katie Roiphe wrote recently about the pain of discovering that the promise of sibling equity is a myth. We delude siblings by telling them that they are equal, she argued. The promise that talent, good fortune and accomplishment will be evenly distributed among their ranks is a lie. Inevitably, there comes a time when those inequities are exposed, leading to resentment, insecurity and conflict. Where some siblings overcome such tensions, others — like Ms. Roiphe and her older sister — are irrevocably damaged. Ms. Roiphe’s essay struck a nerve because I have a sister of my own and our relationship has certainly been through the cycles of acrimony she describes. But I also believe that these dynamics are quite different when one sibling is disabled. Instead of starting off with perfect equality, there is an immediate imbalance of health and ability. Instead of discovering, years down the road, how life’s gifts have not been fairly apportioned, that is where the relationship begins. There is abundant literature on the consequences of growing up with a disabled sibling, much of it negative. Books with titles like “What About Me?,” “Being the Other One” and “The Normal One: Life with a Difficult or Damaged Sibling” report that the able-bodied child is often neglected as his or her needs are subordinated to the more pressing demands of the disabled sibling. This asymmetry can lead to all sorts of consequences, from hostility and resentment to compensatory overachievement. Siblings of people with disabilities often complain of feeling isolated and confused. When they are young, they may be fearful of contracting the sibling’s disability, or be stricken by guilt that they are responsible for causing it. They may worry deeply about the disabled sibling’s health and well-being. They may feel compelled to try to be perfect in order to compensate for the obvious imperfections of the disabled sibling. They may also act out, resenting the attention that goes into caring for the disabled sibling. At some point, the typical child may feel shame or embarrassment at having a sibling who is perceived differently by others. As time passes, nondisabled siblings often worry they will be responsible for the long-term care of a disabled brother or sister. Of course, the news isn’t all bad. Some research suggests that growing up with a disabled sibling can also infuse a person with a greater sense of responsibility, patience and compassion for others. Some siblings may be inspired to go into a helping profession, like medicine, teaching or public interest law. Others translate their early experience with disability into a greater appreciation for, and understanding of, the wide spectrum of human differences. I confess to keeping my own list of successful and accomplished people who have a sibling with Down syndrome, which
[AI] New York Times: Growing Up With a Disabled Sibling, By RACHEL ADAMS
“Mom, when are you going to write a book about me?” my 7-year-old son, Noah, asked as we sat on the floor of his room, surrounded by packing materials from the box that had arrived earlier that day. Inside were copies of my new book, each with a picture of me holding Noah’s brother, Henry, on the cover. Henry has Down syndrome, and the book is about the first three years of his life. Noah had come home to find Henry admiring it while I danced around taking photos for our Facebook page. Noah stood by watching the commotion patiently enough. He understood that Henry was having his turn. He just wanted to know whether the next book would be about him. http://parenting.blogs.nytimes.com/2013/10/10/growing-up-with-a-disabled-sibling/?_r=0 The truth is that I have no plans to write a book about Noah. Unlike his brother, he does not have a disability. His arrival was a momentous occasion for my husband and me, but no more than that of any other baby. So far, he has hit all the usual milestones. He makes friends easily, has quirky interests and is successful in school. I think he’s brilliant, charming and special. I also know that none of this makes for very good reading. The fact of the matter is that it is unlikely that Noah’s turn will ever come. We parents put a lot of energy into teaching our children to take turns. We try to avoid jealousy and strife by doing our best to ensure that each sibling gets an equal portion. Katie Roiphe wrote recently about the pain of discovering that the promise of sibling equity is a myth. We delude siblings by telling them that they are equal, she argued. The promise that talent, good fortune and accomplishment will be evenly distributed among their ranks is a lie. Inevitably, there comes a time when those inequities are exposed, leading to resentment, insecurity and conflict. Where some siblings overcome such tensions, others — like Ms. Roiphe and her older sister — are irrevocably damaged. Ms. Roiphe’s essay struck a nerve because I have a sister of my own and our relationship has certainly been through the cycles of acrimony she describes. But I also believe that these dynamics are quite different when one sibling is disabled. Instead of starting off with perfect equality, there is an immediate imbalance of health and ability. Instead of discovering, years down the road, how life’s gifts have not been fairly apportioned, that is where the relationship begins. There is abundant literature on the consequences of growing up with a disabled sibling, much of it negative. Books with titles like “What About Me?,” “Being the Other One” and “The Normal One: Life with a Difficult or Damaged Sibling” report that the able-bodied child is often neglected as his or her needs are subordinated to the more pressing demands of the disabled sibling. This asymmetry can lead to all sorts of consequences, from hostility and resentment to compensatory overachievement. Siblings of people with disabilities often complain of feeling isolated and confused. When they are young, they may be fearful of contracting the sibling’s disability, or be stricken by guilt that they are responsible for causing it. They may worry deeply about the disabled sibling’s health and well-being. They may feel compelled to try to be perfect in order to compensate for the obvious imperfections of the disabled sibling. They may also act out, resenting the attention that goes into caring for the disabled sibling. At some point, the typical child may feel shame or embarrassment at having a sibling who is perceived differently by others. As time passes, nondisabled siblings often worry they will be responsible for the long-term care of a disabled brother or sister. Of course, the news isn’t all bad. Some research suggests that growing up with a disabled sibling can also infuse a person with a greater sense of responsibility, patience and compassion for others. Some siblings may be inspired to go into a helping profession, like medicine, teaching or public interest law. Others translate their early experience with disability into a greater appreciation for, and understanding of, the wide spectrum of human differences. I confess to keeping my own list of successful and accomplished people who have a sibling with Down syndrome, which includes the Olympic snowboarder Kevin Pearce (now himself disabled by a traumatic brain injury), the actor and singer Jamie Foxx, the actress Eva Longoria, and Amy Chua of “Tiger Mom” fame (and a Yale Law School professor). I also realize that it’s far too simplistic to say that having a sibling with a disability is either a plus or a minus. More important is the fact that disability may amplify the inequities that are an inevitable part of all sibling relationships. My sons are 5 and 7, and I know that our journey is still in its early stages. So far, they relate to each other much like other brothers. They fight and jostle for attention; they also play happily, taking joy in being together.
