10:00 O’clock Pear

I had my 10 o’clock pear at 8 this morning. I live a lot of my life like that.

The cool thing is, I get to make that call. I get to feel the regret for eating the pear now, when 10:00 hits.

But right now the pleasure of the just ripe, just right, pear is still tickling at my taste buds.

So, I’ll cope at 10.

I will. I’ve learned to, because I make tiny little decisions that have tiny little consequences all the time.

The other day I heard a mother say to a teen aged child with a disability, “No, you know you don’t have snack until 2.” It was 1:45, I shit you not. The girl, looked defiant for a couple of seconds and then sat back into compliance.

Really?

That mattered?

Really?

I know, I know, I know, that I don’t know the people or the situation and there very well might have been a reason for the 15 minute delay.

So don’t. But can we all realize that people with disabilities are over programed, over scheduled, over controlled and worst of all, over ruled, all the time. All. The. Time.

Simple requests get called behaviours.

Realistic disagreement gets called non compliance.

There’s a lot more names that we call people with disabilities, isn’t there?

But when you live in a world where you:

Have to ask for a snack when others your age simply get what they want from the fridge.

Have to eat on a schedule you didn’t set and probably weren’t consulted on.

Have no flexibility on that schedule or any other schedule.

Isn’t there a need for even the tiniest of rebellions?

“Speak up!” “Disagree!” “State Your Point!” I yelled all these things in my mind.

But she doesn’t need my voice.

She needs her own.

I pray one day she’ll have one.