Some T21 Ink

Meg and I went last Sunday to get some new ink from Billy at Liberty Tattoo. My second, her first. I love tattoos -- always have. I'm a huge Miami Ink fan and I find many tattoos fascinating. Although I admire many of the ones I see, I don't necessarily want them on my body. For example, I may see an amazing rendition of a human skull with a snake crawling through its lifeless eye sockets, but it doesn't mean that I'm going to get one. Likewise, tribal tattoos can have amazingly intricate patterns, but last I checked, I didn't have and Fijian ancestors.

No, any tattoo I have must mean something to me. And the ones we got last week certainly mean something. Down Syndrome Awareness ribbons. Here are some pics. Enjoy.

Serendipity

For various reasons, I must remain silent regarding some details of the experience I wish to share with you. Pseudonyms are being used in this story, and if this post seems unusually vague at times, know that there is a reason.

There is always a reason.

Last week, I was unfortunate enough to encounter the "R" word again. Retard. Retarded. The variation matters not. It was uttered by someone who knows better. In fact, it disappointed me quite a bit to know John in particular used this word. I immediately became defensive and formulated in my mind what action I would take. It would have to be addressed.

It was not until the next day that I would be able to do anything about it. And I was pleasantly surprised as someone else approached me before I did. Amy, who I think very highly of and who was familiar with this situation approached me and asked if I had been offended by this. I said that I was, and that I was really very disappointed. Not only that this word had been used, but that it was John that used it. Amy and I talked about it at length.

I'm tempted to say that it would not have been appropriate for me to approach John, but that's not quite it. It's a little more political than that. Amy asked if I wanted her to say something to John and I said yes. I'm positive that she will -- if she hasn't already. Amy will probably fill me in on the conversation, but maybe not. It's fine either way.

I thanked Amy for coming to me about this. It meant a lot. As I walked away from her, I thought about it and felt good. I'm glad that John will realize what he said. I hope he's a little embarrassed. But more than that, I hope he realized the impact of what he said.

And then I saw him. A man that I had never seen before, or if I did, one that I never really paid much attention to.

Wearing a Buddy Walk t-shirt.

I smiled. And as I kept walking, a feeling of pride grew inside me.

And then I realized what I was wearing. A blue shirt and a yellow jacket-vest.

Fate. Karma. Serendipity. Call it anything you'd like. There was something very special in those few moments.

And there's one more thing. As I was doing a Google image search for the term "serendipity", I found the lovely picture that opens this post.

It's of tulips.

I found it on page 21.

Serendipity indeed.

Blogger Ate My Post, or How We Celebrated World Down Syndrome Day 2007

Yesterday, March 21st, was World Down Syndrome Awareness Day. I wrote out a nice post describing my thoughts on the day and what we did.

Then Blogger pooped out on me and I lost everything.

Not having the strength to re-write the post, I thought I'd sum things up for you . . .

1. Diversity is good. Celebrate it. Our differences are what make us the same. Our world is rich in experiences and wealthy in variety. After all, it's the spice of life.

2. If you are lucky enough to have someone special in your life, be happy. Be proud. Be their advocate.

3. Be excellent to each other (and party on, dude).

Speak Up

I know that so many of you do, but it never hurts to be reminded how important it is for us to be advocates for our children. I myself need to be reminded of this too. It is our job to be their advocates and to teach them how to be their own.

There are words, stereotypes, misconceptions, and fears that are either unfounded or simply have no place in our society. At their most innocent they are misguided, at their worst, they are hurtful and degrading.

Do not be afraid to educate. To clarify. To empower. To correct.

Don't make excuses.

Advocacy is powerful because you will be armed with the truth.

It is not intended to make others feel uncomfortable, although that is a likely, yet temporary, outcome. The alternative is that your child may someday feel hated, belittled, or unwelcome. And with that as your only other option, you will have the courage and strength to speak up.