You are currently browsing the archives for February 2010

“Letting Off Steam”

  • Posted on February 26, 2010 at 8:37 PM

At first, I envision one of those old cartoon trains or factories.  Some boiler made out of cartoon silly putty is about to explode.  Then, just in time, they let the steam off and all is well.

Perhaps a better vision is a simple teapot.  “I’m a little teapot, short and stout…hear me shout.”  We fill the teapot with water and set it to boil.  When it’s hot, it steams, and the steam goes through the opening and makes a whistling sound that calls us over to brew our tea.  Letting off steam is not only functional; it is built into the design to serve a specific, automatic purpose.

And so, as I look around at all the bloggers who, upon on occasion, take a jab at the neurotypical world—making fun, building their fan base with a little humor—I try to see a teapot.  But I’m not very good at making pictures in mind.  In fact, I cannot.  I spin words and concepts and feelings, and from them I shape pictures with the words I place on the page.  Overwhelming any picture I try to construct in this manner is the feeling of sorrow and regret that comes creeping over me.  These jabs are not a functional little teapot, however normal and understandable they are.  These jabs are not “neurodiversity at its finest” or even “neurodiversity at its worst.”  In fact, they cannot represent neurodiversity at all.

In an earlier post, I said:

5) You cannot claim to value diversity and dislike individuals or groups based on traits beyond their control.  For example, you cannot dislike someone who embarrasses you by having a seizure in public and still value diversity.

Every time a neurologically atypical person makes fun of a neurological typical person because they’re neurotypical or attributes an entire set of behaviors to neurotypical people on the basis of a few representative examples, you are divorcing yourself (at least, for a little while) from the concept of neurodiversity.  If neurodiversity, as per the meaning I proposed, is something you believe in, then you betray your own beliefs by doing this.

I’m not point fingers or citing names.  My pot is just as black as your kettle, and I know that.  It’s a very human pattern of behavior.  We let off steam, especially in the face of adversity.  It’s normal.  It’s natural.

But it’s wrong.

It’s an act of prejudice.  It’s counterproductive to the concept we purport and support.  And we weaken ourselves every time we give in to this impulse.  And we know better.  We really do.  We can say we don’t, we can justify ourselves, but these are excuses.  We know better.  If we didn’t—if our standards weren’t set higher than this behavior allows—we wouldn’t be demanding respect, acceptance, and dignity for neurologically atypical people.  We do know better.  Respect has to be mutual; it has to go both ways.

The stereotypical neurotypical person erects barriers for others, wrapping themselves in ignorance and privilege, ignoring neurologically atypical people, and forcing their ways on us.  It happens.  There really are people like that.  But, it’s also a stereotype.  The people who behave in this way represent only themselves; they do not represent neurotypical people and should not represent neurotypical people in our minds.  If you do not recognize that or cannot acknowledge that, then you do not support neurodiversity as I define it.  If you support any semblance of neurodiversity it is strictly on the basis that the concept empowers you.  If that is the case, please stick to empowerment.  You do not have to respect diversity to advocate for empowerment of unprivileged individuals.  You do have to respect diversity to advocate for neurodiversity, otherwise you’re just a hypocrite and there’re enough of those in the world, thanks.

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Getting Hired 101

  • Posted on February 23, 2010 at 2:15 AM

There are two basic problems that impede autistics who are able to work from obtaining a job, especially one that suits their skills.  The first impediment is that employers, i.e. the managers and human resource professionals whose job it is to hire appropriate personnel, are not adequately (or sometimes at all) prepared to assess the employability of an individual with autism.  This issue I intend to address as part of my long-term career as a business writer.  Other than continuing with advocacy efforts, there’s little the average concerned individual can do to change this situation.

The second impediment is that potential employees are rarely trained to market themselves effectively.  This is true for most workers or potential workers.  This is, perhaps, especially true for potential workers with autism.  The latter is an issue you can address directly, which I can assist with indirectly.  And that is the purpose of this post.

What does it mean to “market yourself?”

Simply put, from the point of view of the employer, you are a resource—or a potential resource.  Businesses have needs they must fill.  Some of these needs are filled by obtaining capital—they turn to investors or lenders to fill this need.  Some of the needs are filled by obtaining physical assets—they use funds to buy or lease buildings, equipment, and supplies to fill this need.  Some of these needs are filled by obtaining labor—and that’s where you and all the other potential workers come in.

Your task is to convince the employer that you can satisfy their need effectively.  Thus, you must market yourself!

Where do you start?

The first thing you need to do is to honestly assess two things:

1) What do you have to offer?  In other words, what employer needs can you satisfy?

For example, I am a skilled writer.  I have evidence that backs this up in the form of published work and unbiased praise.  (This is, of course, not to suggest that there isn’t plenty of room for improvement.)  I’m also knowledgeable about business, seeing that I’ve nearly completed my baccalaureate in Business Management with a concentration in Business Administration.  My career path is based on these two attributes.

2) What do you require in return for your services?  Consider the wages and benefits you demand, of course.  But you must also consider the working conditions and other factors as well.

For example, I will not work for an employer who demands I compromise my ethics.  I prefer not to work in noisy conditions.

The next thing you need to do is to look at the jobs available in your area and ask yourself:

1) Of these jobs, what category of jobs fits my skills and demands?

2) How are these positions filled?

This step is very important, but also one that is readily skipped over.  There are some jobs that are often filled by head-hunters.  These are usually professional positions for which the pool of candidates is spread over the entire country or the world.  There are other jobs that are filled through ads in papers, online, or at job centers.  There are other jobs that are filled through network connections.  These jobs are often never advertised.  There are jobs that are only advertised with a sign on the proprietor’s door.

Knowing what jobs you’re qualified for and how those positions are filled is an essential component in knowing how to market yourself for the jobs you can get.

How do I market myself?

This step depends a great deal on the steps above.

What if the position I want is filled using head-hunters?

Then, you need to make sure head-hunters have access to your professional portfolio.  If you don’t know what that means, then you need the assistance of a professional resume writer.  That is beyond the purview of this post.

What if the position I want is filled through a resume/interview/testing combination?

First, do some research about the company.  If all you have is their ad, then use that.  Ask yourself:

  • What are they looking for?
  • Am I really qualified?
  • How can I communicate that I’m qualified?

The answers to these questions make up your resume.  Let’s assume you have a generic resume that has your qualifications, your employment history, and your education on it.

Don’t send that!!!

What you need is to tailor your resume to their needs.  Don’t start with an objective; instead, start with a marketing statement.  Then, go into your strongest section, which will hopefully be your employment history, but may also be volunteer work.  Don’t write out your responsibilities; instead, write out your accomplishments.  Don’t tell them what you were assigned to do; tell them what you did do.  Not sure how to do that?  Consider talking to a professional resume writer or spending some time with resume writing books.  Move on from there.  Consider this your sell sheet—you are the “product” and you want to describe yourself in such a way that your “customer” knows that you are exactly what he or she needs.

If done right, the resume (and cover letter) will get you the interview.  Use the resume to structure your interview.  Whenever possible, focus on your accomplishments and your selling points.  Practice.  Rehearse.  Prepare.

The testing would be scheduled around the time of your interview.  Do the best you can.  Be well rested.  Be prepared.  Relax.

What if the position I want is filled through network connections?

Then, you need to do the resume stuff, but you also need to talk with people.  Let people who might be in a position to help know that you’re looking for work.  Ask around.  These jobs won’t be advertised, but that doesn’t mean they’re not available.

What if the position I want is filled through an application/interview combination?

Not all jobs require resumes.  Some employers won’t even look at them.  They want you to fill out their application and that’s all they are really willing to consider.

For these jobs, the resume and portfolio are out.  However, you still need to be able to market yourself.  You still need to know what need they are trying to fill and how you can satisfy this need.

For example, if you’re applying for a job as a house painter, you might want to talk about your “head for heights” and your attention to detail.  You want to give examples of the quality painting jobs you’ve done in the past (if you have any) and how you’re reliable (assuming you are, if not—don’t bring it up).  Think about what they need and want, and tell them how you satisfy.

This is just a start.  If you have questions, feel free to e-mail me.  If there’s enough interest, I can go into more detail in subsequent posts.

UPDATE: Comments disallowed due to literally hundreds of spam messages.  If you're interested in commenting, please place it on another post.

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The True Meaning of Diversity

  • Posted on February 20, 2010 at 3:18 AM

“The true meaning of valuing diversity is to respect and enjoy a wide range of cultural and individual differences, thereby including everybody,” (The Fundamentals of Organizational Behavior, 4th ed., by Andrew J. DuBrin, 2007, pg. 381).

Diversity goes beyond recognizing that we are different in measurable ways.  Diversity goes beyond tolerance.  Diversity goes beyond offering assistance to excluded individuals.  Diversity is about inclusion.

In some sense, I have ignored those diagnosed with Asperger’s who object to being lumped into the same diagnostic category as my children.  Their words, their behavior—it’s beneath my contempt, it makes me angry, and it’s so hypocritical, so absurd that it really doesn’t warrant a response.  Except it does, because there are those who claim their words represent neurodiversity.  It got that response from people much more influential than I.

This post is not about them, though the words I write could apply.  This about what I consider the fundamentals of neurodiversity to be.

Consider the difference between cultural diversity and affirmative action.  Both seek to include people with different racial, ethnic, and national profiles in the workplace.  One does so by focusing on differences and disadvantages.  The other focuses on similarities and strengths.  One assumes that those who weren’t born white Americans need help getting a job.  The other assumes that everyone needs opportunities and can add value to a firm.

Neurodiversity is to cultural diversity what empowerment is to affirmative actionNeurodiversity and empowerment parallel each other in many respects; but, they are not synonyms, they are not the same.  Both have their place, but they are not the same.

Neurodiversity is not about services, accommodations, treatment methods, or any of the issues that are often in the forefront of our dialogues.  People who believe in neurodiversity do not share the same opinion about all of these things.  Those issues are not the essence of neurodiversity.

Neurodiversity is about two things:

1) People are naturally and normally neurologically different.  Some of these natural, normal differences are labeled “abnormal,” “disorders,” “syndromes,” or other value-laden labels that interferes with our ability to understand the different subsets of human neurology.

2) Human beings are valuable, in all their diversity, in and of themselves.

This means:

1) You cannot claim to value diversity and claim to be superior.  Those two statements cannot be combined without the use of a logical fallacy.  It would not, however, invalidate a claim to value diversity if you are struggling with feelings of superiority.

2) You can claim to value diversity and yet desire assistance, accommodations, and/or medical treatments.  The use of assistance, accommodation, and/or medical treatments does not invalidate a claim of valuing diversity.

3) You cannot claim to value diversity and claim to be inferior.  Those two statements cannot be combined without the use of a logical fallacy.  It would not, however, invalidate a claim to value diversity if you are struggling with feelings of inferiority.

4) You can claim to value diversity and dislike specific people because of the things they say or do that are within their control.  For example, you can dislike someone who bullies you and still value diversity.

5) You cannot claim to value diversity and dislike individuals or groups based on traits beyond their control.  For example, you cannot dislike someone who embarrasses you by having a seizure in public and still value diversity.

6) You can support the research of human differences and still value diversity.  For example, you can support the research into the various causes of autism and still support neurodiversity.

7) You cannot support the forced eradication of a group based on an undesirable trait and still value diversity.  For example, you cannot support diversity and research a way to identify and eliminate autistic fetuses.

8) You can advocate techniques that minimize or “un-does” challenges and still value diversity.  For example, a person can support the inclusion of individuals with spinal cord injuries and support researching ways to correct damage to their spinal cords.  A person can also support the inclusion of individuals who cannot talk and support researching ways to give them access to speech.

9) You cannot advocate the “cure” of a diverse group and still value diversity.  For example, you cannot support racial diversity and try to cure “blackness.”  Neither can you support neurodiversity and try to cure autism or bi-polar or any other neurological subtype.

Neurodiversity is about recognizing that the human race has natural neurological variations, accepting the individuals with all those variations, and including them in society.  It is about giving people the power and the opportunity to achieve their own individual potential, not quantifying that potential and dismissing those who do not “measure up” from consideration.  A belief in neurodiversity does not preclude the experience of disability.  A belief in neurodiversity does not preclude the desire to overcome the experience of disability, either temporarily or permanently.  A belief in neurodiversity doesn’t even preclude a belief that the government has no business extending entitlements or “special rights” to disadvantaged groups.  A belief in neurodiversity does, however, preclude the belief that you are in any way superior to another on the basis of things beyond your or their control.  Being smarter doesn’t make you better.  Being more socially adaptable doesn’t make you better.  Being more emotionally stable doesn’t make you better.  If you want to feel “better,” then use your abilities (whatever they are) to help others.  Not only will you really feel better, but it’ll be a better feeling than any false sense of superiority could ever give you.

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Quiz Me

  • Posted on February 16, 2010 at 11:36 PM

The question has been lurking in my mind: Am I on or merely near the “spectrum?  When I was gathering some more links for my collection I came across three different quizzes.  Here are the results if you’re at all curious.

First, I took a quiz from PsychCentral:

They call theirs an Autism/Asperger’s Screening Quiz.  I scored 33.  They say if you score 34 or more autism is likely.  If you score between 30 and 33 autism is possible (which is where I fit in according to this quiz).  If you score 29 or less, no autism.

This puts me at the cusp of the criteria, however I found their questions to be rather stereotypical than definitive.  It makes it rather difficult to feel confident about the results.  Particularly, I find this passage to be bothersome:  “Based upon your responses to this autism screening measure, it appears that you may be suffering from an autism spectrum disorder, or Asperger’s disorder. People who score similarly often qualify for a diagnosis of autism or Asperger’s,” (emphasis added).  No test of this nature can indicate whether one is suffering or merely experiencing.  This presumption betrays a bias that I find rather untrustworthy.

Next, I took an Aspie Quiz on RDOS.net:

This site kindly provided HTML code, so I can share the results.

The summary is as follows:

Your Aspie score: 146 of 200
Your neurotypical (non-autistic) score: 58 of 200
You are very likely an Aspie
Your MBTI type: INTJ

Next, I went to a site I’m unfamiliar with that offers what it calls an ASC-Plot:

They also kindly offer HTML code, so there’s a visual.

And here’s the summary:

0 indicates no autistic component, 10 indicates a strong autistic component. The components of this plot are outlined below:

  • Repetitive or restricted Behaviours and Interests (RBI) - Stereotyped, repetitive behaviours and interests
  • Social Impairment (SI) - Social understanding
  • Language problems (L) - Speech, words and sentences
  • Planning, Organization and Concentration problems (POC) - Cognitive skills related to being able to plan, organise and stay focused
  • Imaging and Recall problems (IR) - Visualisation, imagination and remembering past events
  • Reasoning and Problem solving problems (RP) - Cognitive skills related to rational deduction and working things out
  • Sensory problems (S) - Impact of senses
  • Motor problems (M) - Control of own movement

And my scores are:

  • RBI =7
  • SI=8.25
  • L=3.75
  • POC=7
  • IR=8.25
  • RP=4.5
  • S=7.5
  • M=4.25

I think I can say with confidence that I’m not neurotypical, but I knew that.  This didn’t make me want to go out and get a diagnosis though.  Not because I’m convinced I’m not an Aspie, but because there are so many barriers to a diagnosis I’m not sure it’s worth the energy.

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Discovering the Wrongness

  • Posted on February 13, 2010 at 5:27 PM

Yesterday morning, I sat at the dining room table after what had already been another more-hectic-than-usual morning, reading through Willy’s notebook one more time.  The words struck me as wrong, and I puzzled over them, growing increasingly frustrated with myself.

“Willy knows to…”  It said.  Why did those words strike me as wrong?

I call Willy over to me.  “Willy, did you lose your recess again?”

“Yes,” he says sadly, hesitantly, expecting a lecture I suppose.

“Why?”

“Because I didn’t do my spelling,” he says.  “I’m sorry.”

“Why didn’t you bring your spelling homework home so you could do it?”

He shrugs.

“You know you need to be organized at school.”

He nods his head, his face melted with the disappointment of disappointing me.

It still struck me as wrong.

“Do you know how to be organized at school?”

He nods and says, “C-a-l-m-d-o-w-n,” in the deep, drawn out way we say it to him.

“But how do you be organized?”

“Use my head,” he says, poking his skull.

“What steps do you take,” I ask him softly.

His body gets stiff.  His voice gets quiet.  “I don’t know,” he says timidly.  He waits for the lecture.  And he waits.

I sigh, and suddenly the wrongness makes sense.  Both calming down and using his head are important.  But neither is enough by itself when the steps to do what needs to be done are not in his head.  Willy knows to be organized.  He knows his homework needs to be in his folder.  He knows each assignment needs to be written down in his planner.  And he knows to do his work when he gets home.  But there are steps in between that make these things happen.  It is these steps that make the disorganized organized.  It is these steps that Willy doesn’t know.

He’s failed to do each of these things on numerous occasions, not because he’s not motivated, or doesn’t care, or doesn’t want to do them.  It’s because he doesn’t know how.  He’s been lectured.  He’s been punished.  But not because it’s his fault; it’s because I failed him.  It’s because the school failed him.  He’s ready for more independence, but before we hand it to him we have to teach him to handle it.

Sometimes the parent disappoints the child, even when the child doesn’t know it.  So, I sat at the dining room table and I wrote a long note in his notebook.  We’ve failed him, but that doesn’t mean we can’t make it right from here on out.  This is a problem that can be solved with a bit of effort and a lot of coaching—something we should have been doing all along.  And so I wrote to his teachers what we need to do so that Willy can succeed.

I’m sorry, Willy!

Because that needs to be said too.

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Asking the Right Questions

  • Posted on February 10, 2010 at 2:55 PM

Alex, who is predominantly nonverbal, has been behaving in a way that indicates that bi-polar disorder or mania may be an appropriate co-label to apply to him.  While Alex’s behavior is very different from Mark’s, who has a diagnosis of bi-polar disorder, there are certain similarities.  After discussing the matter with one of the few psychologists whose opinion I value and trust, I decided that a mental health assessment may provide useful insights and possible strategies for helping Alex be more comfortable with himself and his environment.

In pursuit of this assessment, I recently filled out a series of mental health questionnaires.  Clearly these questions were not designed to address a child who is nonverbal at the age of ten, which makes me wonder how effective this assessment process will be.  Furthermore, a lot of the questions involved internal mental processes, which there is no way for me (or the doctors) to really observe.  While I understand there is a certain statistical validity and thoroughness to a set of generic questionnaires, there is also a de-humanizing element to this process.  Considering that I had to go through a thorough series of questionnaires to even get this appointment, it seems somehow inappropriate for their data collection efforts to continue to involve questions that are so poorly tailored to my son.  It makes me wary.  Are they prepared to assess Alex at all, let alone provide me with actionable information in response to that assessment?

Then again, when it comes to psychologists, I worry about that in a more generalized fashion.  My interactions with psychology have left me with a deeply in-grained belief that much of psychology is based on unquestioned, unquestionable biases.  One bias is that “different=bad,” which I reject wholly.  A more subtle bias is that observation of behaviors equips psychologists to explain internal mental processes.  Yet, there is something inherently absurd about this bias.  First, mental processes cannot be observed, unless you’re observing the brain at the time—in which case the issue is separating the many mental processes one is observing in relation to the many behaviors that are occurring.  Second, observation is by its nature subjective.  Most of us only observe what we look for, and sometimes we see things we’re looking for when they’re not really there.  Ironically, this absurdity is made apparent through the study of psychology.

Allow me to illustrate:  If someone were to look at my hands, they might think I’m afraid of germs.  This is a logical conclusion from a psychological perspective, because my hands have sustained (and continue to sustain) physical damage from excessive hand-washing.  I have open crevices in my skin which sometimes bleed.  I have scabs over partially healed crevices.  My hands look far older than their 30 years.  Sometimes my skin is so dry and stiff that it looks like arthritis has stolen their mobility.  A common explanation for such a destructive behavior is a phobia, especially when that behavior coincides with obsessive-compulsive disorder (a diagnosis I have).

And yet, my behaviors have nothing to do with germs.  Unless you’re looking for germ-o-phobia you won’t find any real evidence of it.  In reality, as subjective as my personal reality may be, the damage to my hands is the result of a combination of raising young children and having tactile sensitivities that makes touching anything sticky, tacky, slime, gritty, sandy, flaky—well, the list could go on, but I think you get the point—an adverse experience.  So, sure I wash my hands every time I change a diaper or touch the garbage can or sort dirty clothes or pick up miscellaneous things from the floor.  Sure, I wash my hands whenever I sneeze or blow my nose or go to the bathroom or take out the trash.  These are basic sanitary actions.  What makes it excessive is when I have to wash both my hands all over because the side of my finger touched something tacky, like the glue left behind by a sticker that was stuck one too many times.  Or when I do the same thing, because my hand brushed up against something sticky, like the ring left behind by a juice cup.

Perhaps my behavior isn’t rational.  Perhaps it is compulsive.  But, far too many people have tried to label my behavior, both officially and casually, without understanding it.  Yet, when it comes to people doing this to me, I’m prepared.  I’m a highly introspective person and tend to understand myself quite well.  I know why I wash my hands until they literally bleed.  When others throw their baseless speculations at me, I can flick them off with the little regard they deserve.

I’m much more wary when it comes to my children.  While I think I understand my boys fairly well, I’m also insightful enough to recognize that there is far more I don’t understand.  I don’t know how Brandon really feels about being shuffled between two very different households.  I don’t know why Willy feels so comfortable walking up to complete strangers and starting a conversation.  I don’t know what Alex is trying to do when he colors the same drawing furiously for a half an hour, discarding page after page after page and starting again.  I don’t know why Ben closes a book or stops a video at the same part over and over again, yet seems to like that same book or video so very much.  I don’t know these things, and I don’t think their behavior alone can provide genuine insights into the behaviors themselves.  To truly understand these emotions and these actions and all that goes on in-between you have to understand the experience of the individual.  The only way I really know to do that is through communication, but even that is imperfect.  What the other says and what I interpret are and always will be two entirely different things, and this isn’t because I am specifically flawed—all of humankind faces the same limitation.  What I understand and what is meant may be close; my understanding may be sufficient, but these two separate experiences are always going to be at least slightly different.  More importantly, they can be substantially different.

So, as I prepare myself for this meeting I have tomorrow, I remind myself that they may have a greater understanding of the discipline of psychology than I, but I have a better understanding of my child and an appreciation of the limits of that understanding.  For a child who struggles so much to communicate, it may seem natural to rely on interpreting his behaviors to gain insights to his internal processes.  But, these insights are far from perfect and that must never be forgotten.  Last, but not least, as we seek to understand Alex and to help him, we must remember to ask the right questions, because the questions we ask color the experience for each of us.

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On Why Pity Isn’t Charity

  • Posted on February 6, 2010 at 11:59 PM

Recently I had a discussion with an individual who described charity as giving that is motivated by pity, and used this definition in a Christian context.  I tried to explain to this individual why this was not the case.  Yet, this form of “charity” is so engrained in the American culture that she could not see the distinction I was making.  So, I’ll try here in hopes of being understood.

“Charity” as the word is used in the King James Bible is synonymous with Christian love.   Specifically, charity is defined as:

The highest, noblest, strongest kind of love, not merely affection; the pure love of Christ.  It is never used to denote alms or deeds or benevolence, although it may be a prompting motive.

Holy Bible, King James Version, 1979, published by The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints.

“Charity” when defined as Christian love is never pity.  Pity involves a sense of superiority:  when you pity someone, you look down on them and think they are somehow less than yourself; less fortunate, less talented, less valuable.  Less.

Matthew 25:34-40

Then shall the King say unto them on his right hand, Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world:

For I was an hungered, and ye gave me meat: I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink: I was a stranger, and ye took me in:

Naked, and ye clothed me: I was sick, and ye visited me: I was in prison, and ye came unto me.

Then shall the righteous answer him, saying, Lord, when saw we thee an hungered, and fed thee? Or thirsty, and gave thee drink?

When saw we thee a stranger, and too thee in? or naked, and clothed thee?

Or when saw we thee sick, or in prison, and came unto thee?

And the King shall answer and say unto them, Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.

While “charity” is not used in the Bible as an action, if it were to be an action, then this would be the actions of which it would speak.  The phrase the least of these my brethren is misleading, apparently.  Some people associate it with pity, because if they are the least, then are they not less than us?  Jesus, who tells the parable, is NOT agreeing that those who are in need are, as so many perceive them, of less worth than those who give; He is comparing the least of these my brethren with a King and as brethren of the King.  Giving unto them is not an act of pity; it is an act of charity.  It is not done because you pity them and look down on them; it is done because you love them and feel compassion for them.

Compare this passage with the following hypothetical scenario:

A woman walks into the church with a Crockpot of hot, home-made soup.  She sets up her offering on the table and gets to work preparing the space for the homeless who will be coming in.  It is 5:30 and very cold outside.  The doors are locked, but she hears the shuffling of people on the outside.  The doors will open at 6, so they have to get busy to get everything ready.

At 6 pm, the pastor opens the door and the stiff, cold people wrapped in layers of poorly mended and unclean clothes shuffle in.  He lines the people up along the buffet so they each can get their dish, while the woman busies herself filling bowls with the hot, savory soup.  The gentleman next to her is putting together sandwiches, some turkey and some ham.

“It’s so sad,” the soup lady says to the sandwich guy.

“I know.  Everyone’s shivering.  We should have opened the door earlier,” the guy says.

These words startle the lady.  “But we weren’t ready yet.”

He smiles at the young man who just made it up to them.  The soup lady hands him a bowl, and prepares another.  The sandwich guy asks, “Would you like turkey or ham?”

“Ham, please,” he says in a gravelly voice that sounds like it doesn’t get much use.  The man takes one of the sandwiches heaping with ham, and asks him whether he’d like mayonnaise or mustard.  Before the young man can answer, the soup lady pipes in, “You see, it’s just so sad that all these poor people can’t find work.”

The young man’s cheeks color, but she doesn’t see him.  His gaze goes dark and his shoulders slouch.  He takes his sandwich and his soup, his milk and his apple, and even his little cookie into a far corner and eats in silence in the draftiest part of the church hall, while families and individuals gather under the blowing heat from the vents.

When everyone is served, the sandwich man tries to talk to him.  But the young man shakes his head.  “She don’t know,” he says.  “She don’t think.”

It’s not an accusation, but his voice is full of sorrow.  Neither of them will ever know that this man works twelve hours day, six days each week, working two back-breaking jobs.  The soup lady couldn’t imagine it.  Yet, he comes to the soup kitchen, because he doesn’t leave himself enough to have more than two meals a day.  Even working so hard, he cannot afford to because so much of that money he works so hard to earn has to go to his mother’s medical bills and his children’s tuition into the one private school that takes children with special needs.

The sandwich man tried to show love; the soup lady only felt pity.  Pity is not about love.  Pity is about making yourself feel better by exposing yourself to the misery of those who are so much worse off than you.  They’re not people; they’re certainly not brethren.

This is why I see pity as being the cousin to bullying, not to love.  Bullying is about making yourself feel better, too.  Instead of the passive harm you do to people when you pity them, you’re harming people actively, intentionally.  That’s the only difference I see between pity and bullying.  You’re harming people either way; you’re looking down on people either way.

Love isn’t about you.  Love is about giving yourself to others.  You may be called to give your heart or your time, your money or your ear.  But you are called to give.  Love—the pure love of Christ—is about recognizing the humanity in others and celebrating it.  You give not out of obligation, not because you feel sorry for them, but because you recognize their need and want to share yourself and your possessions with a fellow human being.  That’s charity.  Pity and charity should never be confused.

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Is Being “Morally Challenged” a Disability?

  • Posted on February 2, 2010 at 10:02 PM

Generally I consider myself pretty open-minded.  That being said, open-mindedness is not about lacking prejudice, but the willingness to re-evaluate and discard prejudices when faced with new information.  Prejudices and bias are natural human tendencies, resulting from our subjective perceptions and limited ability to process and extrapolate information from our environment.  Their naturalness, however, doesn’t justify acting on prejudice.  Thus, wrong is not in the holding of prejudices, but in the unwillingness to let them go and/or acting on the prejudices we hold in a way that harms others.  As we are subjected to new information, open-minded people re-evaluate and possibly change the prejudices they hold—but they’re still prejudices, because we never have all the pertinent information and never are able to filter that information we do have without bias.  For Christians, this statement would fall under:  “For all have sinned and all have fallen short of the glory of God.”  Thus is the imperfection of man while in this mortal coil.

Being open-minded does not prevent one from having strong, even near-immutable beliefs.  For me, one of these beliefs is the importance of ethical and moral behavior.  For clarification, I distinguish ethical beliefs as being wholly individual and moral beliefs as being those that are formed in conjunction with a socially recognized belief structure (often, but not exclusively, religious in nature).  For example, Catholicism is a moral belief system.  Ethical beliefs that are formed in conjunction with a belief in and adherence to the Catholic religion are moral beliefs.  In kind, science is a moral belief system, which can (but is not always) practiced with the adherence others give to religions.  Ethical beliefs that are formed in conjunction with a belief in and adherence to science are moral beliefs.  I care less what your morals are based on, and more on how highly you raise your standards and how much you strive to follow them.  Any belief system, when practiced with the requisite high standards and effort, makes you a beneficial force (though others may consider your standards and efforts misguided) unto the rest of humanity.  And that, for me, is the crux.  If your beliefs lead you toward benefiting others, then I would hold that your ethics are good; if your beliefs lead you toward self-gain at the expense of others, then I would hold that your ethics are bad.  Having good ethics, of course, is insufficient if you don’t strive to live by them.

So, one of my immutable or near-immutable beliefs is that everyone can choose to have high ethical standards and everyone can strive to live those standards.  For this reason, I have never held developmental disabilities or lack of sanity as a sufficient “excuse” to justify or explain away unethical behavior.  For example, I’ve always believed that a mass murder is no less responsible and no less punishable, just because he happens to be insane.  A man is no less responsible and no less punishable for raping another human being, just because he happens to be developmental delayed.

I have thought for quite a while that my ethical and moral standards were, well, immutable.  I couldn’t imagine any piece of information that would shake these beliefs.  Then, in reading from a textbook, I ran into two little words that carried a punch that knocked me off of my proverbial socks and high-horse all at once: morally challenged.

As I started this discussion, I said that I consider myself to be open-minded and this involves re-evaluating my prejudices when faced with new information.  Thus, when I ran into this statement I had to stop and re-evaluate my position:

Another key contributor to a person’s ethics and morality is his or her level of moral development.  Some workers are morally advanced, while others are morally challenged—a condition that often develops early in life.

The Fundamentals of Organizational Behavior, 4th ed., by Andrew J. DuBrin, 2007, pg. 75

Hm?  Moral deficiencies described in the language of disability.  You know, that makes a reasonable amount of logical sense—I can’t just dismiss it out of hand.  But, the implications (at least for me) are rather huge.  So, what to do?  Research!

From what I can gather, the above passage refer to (without actually discussing) Kohlberg’s Theory of Moral Reasoning, which I found in this link (it’s a PDF of a chapter from a textbook).  The link had the following table:

Moral Theory

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It does not assert at which level someone would need to be at in order to be considered “morally challenged.”  I also found the following PowerPoint presentation online.  This explores how contemporary U.S. values (as they’re taught) are affecting society (psst, it’s not good!).

One thing the PowerPoint suggests, which I’m going to say flat out, is that it does not seem likely that contemporary U.S. society will come to see being “morally challenged” as a disability any time soon.  It seems, rather, that we encourage this state.  Yes, I know—you’re shocked (sarcastically speaking).

But if being morally challenged should rightfully be considered a form of developmental disability, which the above theory implies even if it were never explicitly stated, then should I not take that into consideration when I try to hold others to my standards of ethical development?  (I reiterate: this doesn’t mean I believe everyone should share my ethical and moral beliefs, but that they should develop postconventional moral reasoning skills and have high standards of ethical and moral behavior of their own).

To clarify, I do not believe that someone’s value or inherent worth should be subject to their intellectual development or capabilities.  Nor do I believe that someone’s value or inherent worth should be subject to their physical development or capabilities.  If moral development can be similarly hindered, impaired, or “capped”, then should I not extend the same sense of value to those who are morally challenged as I would to someone who his intellectually or physically challenged?  My instinctive reaction is NO!!!!  People who are morally impaired, but are not impaired in any other way have done this world great damage; they continue to do so.  I resist, on a strong emotional level, giving them any room for “excuses” like having a disability.

But, then my own ethics kick in.  Ethically speaking, part of the reason for not de-valuing someone with a disability is because having the disability is not their fault (this is only part of the reasoning; I’m not suggesting this is the best or most important reason).  If someone is morally challenged, and thus commits an immoral act, would it also be “not their fault?”  Not to mention (this is one of those much more important reasons) that, despite the harm they do, they still have inherent value as a fellow human being.

I’m torn.  I really am.  Emotionally, I find this “excuse” unacceptable.  Ethically and intellectually, I stand back and look at my reaction and see some of the same unreasonable prejudice flung at the friends and family I care so dearly for and write so much about.

Is being “morally challenged” a disability?  And how does the social model influence that?  Socially speaking, being morally challenged is an asset.  It lets people rationalize doing all sorts of things for the sake of self-interest.  Therefore, if the social model is exactly right, then being “morally challenged” isn’t a disability at all.  (Otherwise, I’m misunderstanding the implications of the social model, which is entirely possible.)  In fact, if the social model were to apply, then being morally developed would be the disability and all those unethical people should offer us accommodations to compensate for our lack of unethicalness.  Which, of course, is absurd on two counts:  1) I don’t want to gain advantages through mine or anyone else’s unethical behavior, which would include accommodations of this sort; 2) unethical people would not voluntarily offer accommodations of this sort and, were this line of thinking valid, ethical people would lack the power to enforce the accommodations on those uncooperative “unethicals.”

However, if there is something inherent about the state of being disabled, something that is exacerbated by the social model, then whether it is recognized as such or not being “morally challenged” would be a disability.  If so, then what does it mean?  Are people who are morally challenged fully culpable for their actions as is someone who is not morally challenged?  If not, then how would we measure that to determine what level of responsibility they hold?  Or am I simply taking a theoretical explanation of ethical behavior too far without enough evidence to justify the theory?

It’s times like these when I almost wished I was a prejudiced, unethical schmuck who could cling to my beliefs even after they’ve been legitimately questioned.  This re-evaluation process takes work, and it’s rarely simple.  Am I resisting this re-evaluation on a purely emotional level or is there a real flaw with my analysis thus far?  I don’t know, so I have to pick at it and put it out there.  It would be simpler if I just accepted that my prejudice was right and good, and left it at that.  But, then again, the sheer number of people who do that is one of the things that makes this world such a difficult place to live.

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