Under the Microscope
When Phillip entered our family with Down Syndrome, I was four years old. Soon, I became an expert on staring.
Why do people stare at Phillip? What are they thinking and feeling when they stare? I was an observer-participant watching people as they are caught off guard when they encounter someone different. I began as an innocent child observer, but eventually became an active participant in the interaction.
He walked a little different. His face was a little different.
These features brought evidence of human nature in countless shopping centers and public places. People couldn’t help it. They would stare. Then, knowing it was rude, they would fight their own inclination or redirect a younger child from staring. I studied this slice of human interaction from all sides. As a young child, I felt their judgment and criticism. Something was “wrong.” I resented this.
The disconnect between how they looked and how I felt about Phillip was jarring. I knew Phillip was happy and we were happy to have him with us. I desperately wanted them to know that he was a source of joy and delight. As I grew, I began to take action. I would stare at them until they eventually noticed me in these split-second encounters. Then, when we would meet eye to eye, I would smile at them and say “hello.” Bringing in a human connection seemed to break the spell for both of us.
They stopped staring, smiled and returned my greeting. At the same time, I began to look more deeply at what they might be feeling and felt inclined to “help” them. On occasion, I would introduce us while waiting in some line and Phillip would say hello. He had a great sense of humor. He loved to tease and joke with friends. Some of my strategy was inspired by my thoughtful Mom who learned how to be very proactive in order to avert any negativity that others might be inclined to express. For example, some Sunday School classmates had teased Phillip, so he said that he was never going back. The following week, she marched into that Sunday School class and kindly told the students all about him before he returned. The class rose to the occasion and they all became best friends.
My work as a family therapist often involved helping others monitor their split-second behaviors. After all, I had decades worth of practice at this early on in my life. Often there is an invisible world beneath the surface of our relationships that affects how we feel about each other. We all have biases or even triggers from our first impressions that, in reality, have nothing to do with others. This is part of the baggage that we carry. Putting society under the microscope reveals a world of struggle from upbringing or other past experiences. Resources and problem-solving bubble up when we see through the baggage and step into a different view, and, believe me, there are resources waiting to be used to problem-solve and resolve conflicts. This happened with Phillip in that Sunday School class as his peers were able to put aside their own biases and respond to his humanity.
