I want to write about and discuss a topic that I find to be an “elephant in the room” so to speak… implicit bias even as SN caregivers. Toward the end of last year, I went through 2 ECE college courses and also took a training through Parent to Parent (which I plan to spotlight in a blog at a later date). One of the BIG topics I encountered in both of these experiences, is learning to recognize my own biases in how I teach and how I live my life. As a preschool teacher, I am also required to have so many hours of continuing education every year so I am able to take a host of courses through Colorado Shines to further my knowledge. This style of coaching and learning suites my busy lifestyle and also helps me continue to learn, without the formality of traditional “college” courses. After all, I worked hard for my degree, and I am still paying student loans. Honestly, I have no desire to go back to school in the traditional sense but I always want to keep learning everything I can to be a better mom, teacher and human.
The P2P trainings brought me to THE (yes, THE) Ohio State University’s Kirwan Institute. The Kirwan Institute is essentially a “Think Tank” around issues like race, gender, disability and community. You should watch their short video to learn more about their mission. The Institute offers short trainings about implicit bias. For P2P, I went through Module 4 and in doing so, it sparked me to write this post because these conversations are important. What this made me realize, and what I think is important to discuss, is that even as a SN mama myself, I STILL carry implicit bias toward people with disabilities. In fact, the Harvard Implicit Bias Test taught me that I carry a moderately strong bias toward physically able people, compared to physically disabled people.
How can that be considering I have a disabled child? What kind of horrible person am I? Well, I am not a horrible person at all. Who I am, in this context, is a woman who did not grow up exposed or educated about people with disabilities. When I was in school, children with severe conditions were not in the general population of classrooms, and in fact were kept to their own area of the school, where we did not have much interaction with them. It wasn’t until a high school drama class where I was even personally introduced to a peer with Down Syndrome. Children with severe mental and physical disabilities, again, were kept to a set of classrooms away from the general high school population.
In college, I’d met students who had learning disabilities and had to advocate for themselves. It was there, I learned the “R” word was entirely inappropriate to use in a derogatory fashion. I then had the immense pleasure of working with Les Borsheim of the Colorado Eagles. Les was a hockey player who had been paralyzed after a motorcycle accident. He was a staple at games and support for the team. Les worked hard in rehab in hopes of eventually walking again. Every year, the team would hold a golf tournament to raise money for his continued therapy. He remains a pillar of the community and works as a color analyst for the team today. At that time, Les would do speaking engagements around Northern Colorado, and I remember taking him to one of his events. He talked about perseverance, and how, just because he was now confined to a wheel chair, he still had hopes, and dreams and goals. Yes, his life was now different, but he was grateful to have another chance to live his life and he hoped others could adopt the same outlook. It was then I thought that even when really bad things happen to people, eventually, you’ll be ok in a new way.
Fast forward to my role as a claims adjuster. The reality of that job was you sometimes had to help people through drastic life changes. Not every injury was life-altering. What I saw though, was that resilience was a keystone to a healthy recovery. Injured workers who lacked resilience often found themselves spiraling even from “minor” injuries such as sprained ankles or torn-up knees. Construction workers who suddenly were unable to work had no more purpose. Their life was altered so significantly in every facet, their ability to bounce back from short term financial strain and job change was lacking. They simply couldn’t adjust and their life now became a case of malingering, mental health challenges and no end in sight. Suddenly, my role shifted from being a “helper” to a “closer”. How could I move this person on from a system that was not designed to support them long term? It then became about dollars and cents, not about their true recovery. Settlement often was the best option in hopes they could move on with their lives. It was sad. It was hard. It shouldn’t be that way for people who now saw themselves as altered for life. Their body parts were never the same and sometimes, their outlooks on life weren’t either.
When Bowen was born and we began his journey, I think it took me a while to wrap my head around being a medical mom and to openly acknowledge he was disabled. Even to say that now feels strange when you see him running, jumping, playing and learning in a relatively neurotypical fashion. But there are many facets of our life that just don’t fit within the threshold of “normal.” But my life may look “normal” compared to other SN families. My work administering meds, g-tube feeds and therapy may pale in comparison to the amount of work another family does for their child. This is no comparison; rather, a segway to point out that as a SN parent I am the expert for my son. I am an expert in g-tubes, feedings, pulmonology, gastroenterology, ENT and cardiac issues. But this expertise pertains to Bowen’s journey and I cannot claim expertise in someone else’s story, even if it mirrors Bowen’s closely. By taking my expertise and trying to apply it to someone else, I am not creating meaningful and trusting relationships with those I am seeking the relationship with.
I will admit, I notice my bias when I see children with physical and intellectual disabilities. I am often curious about what those families deal with daily. I am curious about the conditions of the kids I see and I catch myself saying “that must be hard”. The same is often uttered in conversations about Bowen as well.
There isn’t a quick answer for overcoming implicit bias. The Kirwan Institute talks about using mindfulness and meditation to send positive thoughts toward populations we feel a bias toward. Meditation and mindfulness are skills that take time to learn and shifting to positive views about populations of people is also going to take time. Just like it will take time for a family to accept a new reality, it will take time to shift your thoughts and feelings about others, even if they are in a similar boat. Being kind to yourself and remove your judgements about yourself is important too. As I mentioned earlier, having implicit bias does not make you or anyone else a bad person. Acknowledging they exist for you and working to apply skills to overcome them is honestly the best you can do. Ask questions and be curious about those in your circle. Be open to challenging your own beliefs and be ok with tougher conversations. There is a time and a place to have these conversations. If a tough conversation has to happen, make sure you are well fed, well rested and not feeling triggered about other un-related subjects. Be free of distractions that might take your focus away from the person you need to talk to. Check your body language and posture. Are your arms folded over your chest? You may be giving off a vibe of being closed off to hearing what someone has to say. Again, none of this is easy to do, so going back to my advice of mindfulness is really your key to success here.
I hope you can take them time in the next few weeks to check out the Kirwan institute and Google the Harvard Implicit Bias tests. They can offer you great insight to how your mind works and give tips on shifting. After all, is that the crux of our lives? Living shift by shift at a time. Day by day, all while navigating it somewhere in between.
Somewhere In Between 