Few of us are truly worthy of riding the #8216;short bus#039;

Published 12:00 am Wednesday, November 16, 2005

Just like those pesky cockroaches that survive the effects of a nuclear explosion, it seems that some of our worst biases survive, despite laws and public campaigns to stop blatant discrimination against people with &uot;differences.&uot;

Using certain words to describe a member of the opposite sex or a minority group in a public setting can land you in the defendant’s chair in court.

There are many taboos today on what words can be used to describe people who have something not quite &uot;normal&uot; about them.

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But, people with perhaps the most obvious &uot;differences&uot; - and the least ability to fight back - are still used publicly as examples of what we don’t like in others, making them aware that they are less than what is acceptable.

I’ve been in many public settings (business meetings, restaurants, even standing in line for a movie), and hear phrases such as, &uot;Don’t act like a retard&uot; (with special emphasis on the first syllable - reeeeetard); &uot;OK, Rainman, we’ll get you to Kmart;&uot; and the latest hip phrase, &uot;That is such a short bus idea.&uot;

For those of you who don’t get it, a school bus for the handicapped is smaller and much &uot;shorter&uot; than the typical school bus, thus a &uot;short bus.&uot;

Most people with developmental or mental delays or handicaps may not understand. Actually, society counts on them not understanding, or why else would it still be so common to hear these comments in most work and social settings?

Often the families of these people are so overwhelmed with trying to provide even the most basic of activities for their loved one, they don’t have the strength or courage to fight back.

But, occasionally, a fight or two will bubble when a mom or dad, a teacher, or even a person with a disability, has had enough of the language and wants to let others know that we see, we hear, we listen, and we hurt. And then we see almost a shocked look, as the realization of what they’ve said sinks in.

I’ve been blessed (and yes, I mean this in every way) with a son not quite like other 12-year-old boys.

I’m one of the lucky mothers … my son never gives me a moment’s worry that he will be a bully, in trouble with the law, or out at night risking his health or life.

My son doesn’t read &uot;meanness&uot; into people’s conversations. If people laugh at what they hear, he will laugh as well.

His optimism is infectious, and he seeks out others to share his happiness. While some people will use words to describe him, or others like him, and then laugh, he always sees them laughing &uot;with&uot; him, not &uot;at&uot; him. As a mother, I’m not going to shatter his perception.

But as a mother, and a future teacher of these amazing people, I will take an opportunity to educate others that words have meaning, and they could have a more powerful impact than people realize.

Imagine living life with simplistic optimism, assuming that people are basically good and that they don’t act with hurtful intent; wanting to join in laughter and share in what appears to be a joyful discussion; asking for help without the fear of self-consciousness that what you’re asking would bring a negative result; and judging others not based on what they know, where they come from, what they do, or how they look.

Come to think of it, I think few of us &uot;normal&uot; people would be worthy of riding a short bus.

Melissa Lemmon of Dayton is a business professional, a University of Dayton graduate student, and the mother of a talented 12-year-old boy diagnosed with development delays.

Courtesy of the Dayton Daily News