Empowering Children with Disabilities

Strengthen and Make Whole the Body of Christ by Empowering Children With Disabilities

Can the church from the beginning of life be that place where justice is practiced, surrounding children with disabilities with the breadth and strength of such a network of support that it is simply empowering for life? I am convinced the answer is “yes.”

Lorie Peters has a gifted mind, an engaging personality and excellent instincts. She lives on her own near Baltimore; manages her own affairs; enjoys her cat Nicky; hosted a Christmas party for over eighty friends: lobbied in Maryland and West Virginia, talking with legislators about how she made changes happen in her life.

Now in her mid-thirties, Lorie has been challenged all her life with severe physical disabilities. She has no legs, very small hands and a generally small body. She navigates by wheelchair or crawling. For years, medical labels imposed by her disabilities kept her from living as she does now.

October 31, 1991 was the first night Lorie lived on her own in her apartment. She had grown up in Children’s Hospital in Baltimore, living there twenty years. Then she was transferred to a nursing home. Lorie wanted to live on her own. Only her social worker seemed to be listening.

Listening? Too many service providers failed to listen, including the staff at the nursing home. She burned the stump of her leg with hot tea. She told the staff to check her leg. They did not. When a friend came to visit, Lorie asked her to check her leg. Lorie had to be hospitalized, and more of her leg had to be amputated. Lorie concluded that the staff did not listen to her.

I met Lorie shortly after this incident while she stayed at a friend’s house. Lorie had made many friends as a child growing up at Children’s Hospital. She would sit in the lobby to greet and chat with people, including Helga, in whose home she was staying. Another person she met as a child in the lobby at Children’s Hospital was Rev. Brian, an associate pastor at a large church. Brian found another temporary place for Lorie to live, and then the permanent location into which she moved.

The church in mission became an instrument of justice. The church was able to cut through a lifetime of perspective that Lorie needed to be “cared for” in an institution and capitalize on Lorie’s own childhood connections. The church in a loving and caring way was able to offer the breadth and strength of its vast network of support. Then, the course of Lorie’s life changed dramatically to an empowering way of life.

Can the church from the beginning of life be that place where justice is practiced, surrounding children with disabilities with the breadth and strength of such a network of support that it is simply empowering for life? I am convinced the answer is “yes.” The following story about an early English settlement can serve as a model of how the church can respond as an agent of justice.

Historian Nora Groce studied the history of a small community of people who immigrated to the Massachusetts Bay Colony and Martha’s Vineyard in 1690. In this small, relatively isolated community, about 10 percent of the people were born unable to hear. They communicated with a unique sign language brought to them from England. Everyone in the community knew this language. Nora Groce found no significant differences between those who could hear and those who could not in the rates of graduating from high school, marrying, bearing a similar number of children, finding jobs and income levels. In a parallel study on the mainland where services were considered to be the best, non-hearing individuals graduated 25 percent less than hearing persons, married 40 percent less, and had children 40 percent less. They earned about one third as much as the general population and their range of occupations was more limited.’

What happened? In one place where there were no services, the result for children growing up was that there were no differences; they spoke a unique language that everyone understood. Today in the church, separated from government regulation, we speak our own language, a gospel language that says “Come all,” and we are empowered to do what it takes for any individual to participate in and contribute to the life of the church. The best hope for children with disabilities is for the church to adapt, much like the family adapts when a child with a disability is born.

Harold Wilke was born into such, family and church. Many within the UCC know Harold, a gifted minister who was looking over the shoulder of President Bush in 1990 at the Rose Garden signing of the Americans with Disabilities Act. Harold finds great meaning in the hymn “Leaning on the Everlasting Arms,” particularly since he has no arms himself.

Having roomed with Harold on many occasions, I am inspired simply by seeing how able he is in put on his clothes. Harold reports: “I remember once, when I was two or three years old, sitting on the floor of my bedroom trying to get a shirt on over my head and around my shoulders. I was having an extraordinarily difficult time. While I grunted and sweated, my mother stood watching. Her arms must have been held rigidly at her side; every instinct in her wanted to reach out and put my shirt on for me. Finally, a neighbor who was visiting asked in exasperation why my mother wasn’t helping. My mother responded through gritted teeth, ‘I am helping!'”

Harold’s parents intervened lovingly and with care in specific ways offered Harold formative guideposts that shaped and empowered the church to become a positive formative network. At the service of confirmation, his ministry offered an individual prayer for confirmand. His pastor’s prayer for him at age fourteen was child go to theological to become a minister of the church.” Harold already had a deep desire to enter ministry even after being discouraged by a previous pastor. His church surrounded Harold as a child and later as a youth with affirmation, asking him to teach Sunday school in his late high school years. He was active in the youth fellowship, and was asked to preach a sermon.

As I reflect upon sharing a room with Harold, I understand that in the way he learned to get dressed, his mother made a difference. With Harold the teenager, his own pastor was nurturing and empowering. Family and church were extraordinary instruments of justice in his life.

Most often this simple kind of godly justice does not mean starting a new church program. Rather, it is the individual church member or committee that acts on what it takes to bring in or keep a young person involved in and contributing to the life of the church.

Sunday school is a major agent of justice in the life of our churches. Ginny Curringa, Associate Pastor of Pioneer UCC in Sacramento, California, tells of what happened one Sunday when her mother picked her up from Sunday school after church services ended. “The Sunday School teacher told her that she could not bring me back unless she was willing to teach!” Ginny loved Sunday school, and was challenged by the gospel stories. She thought that Superman was better than Jesus. Why not? Superman could fly; Jesus only walked on water. And Ginny got the support of the class on this issue. Next Sunday, there was a new teacher. The new teacher became an agent of justice for Ginny.

In that time, Ginny would have been considered “hyperactive.” Today, Ginny knows she has dyslexia. She developed an attitude of making her own rules. Why? Because the school rules did not work for her. They made her feel dumb, placed her in low level reading and math groups even after testing revealed how bright she was. The local and wider church noticed Ginny’s gifts. She was appointed a youth leader on a task force of women who wrote a resolution on inclusive language. Ginny says, “It was so wonderful to be empowered by the church!”

“Very reluctantly,” Ginny went to seminary. After all, academia had not been her favorite place in life. Her education was spread over six years, not being able to carry a full load. Childhood memories of church brought a feeling of home, and it was her church work during seminary that nurtured her self-esteem and affirmed her call to ministry. Because of Ginny’s presence, many churches have improved their accessibility, both architecturally and attitudinally.

Now fifteen years later, after serving several churches as associate pastor, Ginny has discovered the assets of her life’s journey as a person with a disability. She finds her sensitivity heightened to people’s ability to view situations from perspectives, and a sense of comfort and gifts for facing conflict and change. While she still struggles with feeling inadequate, Ginny found empowerment through the church and is now offering that gift back to others.

In each of these stories, the people of the church were agents of justice when they empowered children for a lifetime. Like the people of Martha’s Vineyard, church members discerned the suitable actions necessary and did them. In a society that tends to pass on such situations to a specialized service delivery system, the church can be that haven where community is primary, and where that community of faith constantly adjusts to be whole by including each individual.

What if the church that offered the benefit of its network to Lorie had said “No”?
What if Harold’s and Ginny’s family and church had not discovered their gifts, and encouraged them to enter Christian service? Praise God for the ways things did happen! We grieve that there have been times that our churches have failed to respond justly, and lives have not been empowered.

Don’t rush to set up a special program. Rather, survey your church, your Sunday school membership, and the extended life of your church (scouts, senior citizens, community groups). Find individuals whose needs are not being met. Discover a child with Down’s Syndrome or with an emotional disability. Ask someone (maybe you!) to advocate for them and encourage them. Help others see that a child’s behavior or needs might be a plea to be understood and to be viewed as they really are. Encourage the church to be flexible and to adjust. Tell fellow members the Martha’s Vineyard story, and say “Our church can be that kind of community.” Our church’s just response to children with disabilities will empower them for a lifetime. It did for Lorie, Harold, and Ginny!

Notes
1. The Martha’s Vineyard Story is from John McKnight, “The Professional Service Business and Why Servanthood is Bad,” reprint (Washington, DC: Cathedral College of the Laity, n.d.), pp. 1-2. (Also found in The Other Side January/February 1989).)
Written by David E. Denham. Published in New Conversations (Issue Title: “A Church Responsive to God’s Call – Building a World Fit for Children. Pp. 69-71

Written by David E. Denham and used with his permission. From

    New Conversations

(Issue Title: “A Church Responsive to God’s Call – Building a World Fit for Children. Pp. 69-71