Morbid curiosity is something that, I think, affects everyone. It’s only natural if there is an accident on the highway that people are going to stop and ‘rubberneck’ to see what’s going on. Hell, look at the popularity of reality TV right now. One action that always goes along with this human affliction is staring. I admit I’ve done it more times than I know or want to admit. I think it’s a normal reaction when we come across something that is out of the ordinary.
I always knew it wasn’t polite but I never put myself in the other person’s shoes. Which is ironic since I hate being the center of attention. Now, with Jacob’s disability, I find myself paying attention to the people around me more. I see the stares others level at him when we go out to eat. Or on a particularly bad tic day when he stutters.
At first, it broke my heart. He’s just a kid trying to get through his daily life and the last thing he needs or wants are people staring at him like he’s a circus side show. Then I got angry. How dare someone pass judgment on him or myself for what they perceive is ‘wrong’! A friend of mine, whose son has special needs as well, told me something at the start of this journey that has stuck with me. Our boys look like every other kid around so people don’t get it when something like this presents itself.
I didn’t stay at the anger stage very long, since it’s draining and I know I’m better than that. Besides the fact it wouldn’t do me a damn bit of good to stay mad. Even before Jake was diagnosed I refused to let him become reclusive. I know the noises are annoying and I get that they might make other people uncomfortable. Thing is, my son has as much right to go to a restaurant or a movie as the next person.
Again, I’m making concessions. We try to wait and go to the movies after opening weekend and the symphony is out of the question right now, but I won’t stop living my life or letting Jake live his. It’s a great relief to know that he’s protected by a law. Legally, he can’t get thrown out by anyone. He can be asked to leave, which thankfully hasn’t happened, but he doesn’t have to leave.
I like to think I’m sensitive to others feelings. I’m not going to shove my son’s disability in someone else’s face if I can help it. The last thing I want to do is create a scene or make him uncomfortable.
We are going on vacation in June and my biggest worry…the plane ride. When we’re out in public it’s easier to tune the noises out or for someone to get away from them. Stuck in a flying metal tube at 12,000 feet. There’s nowhere to go! I don’t think they’ll let you stay in the bathroom for the whole two hours. A friend mentioned something to me that I hadn’t even thought of though. Talk to the person at the gate and explain the situation. Possibly, they would let us board early and the noises might not be so bad if he can sit in the front. At least they wouldn’t echo up the plane for the whole ride.
It so hard to think of my son having a disability because to me he’s not disabled. He’s Jake. Yeah he makes noises but he’s still the goofy kid I love. But as my mom said, after she bought pre-boarding passes for Jake and I, he has rights and I need to use them! I’m sure it won’t be the first time that the flight crew has dealt with a case of Tourette’s. I fully intend to make sure they are aware of it so that they are prepared and can field any complaints, should it come to that. And since we’re flying Southwest they have three seats across on both sides. So someone is going to have to be able to handle it for the ride. My mom offered to sit with us but there’s no reason for her to leave dad by himself. I plan on letting whoever sits by us know and if they want to get up then I won’t be offended.
I find myself not being as curious about things people do anymore. I don’t stare as much as I used to now that I have seen how it feels. Thankfully, Jake is blissfully ignorant of it. Or he just doesn’t care. I’ll take either one at this point. Lord knows he has enough anxiety to deal with and I’m not sure either of us could handle adding more to the pile.
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