Showing posts with label explaining Down syndrome. Show all posts
Showing posts with label explaining Down syndrome. Show all posts

Tuesday, April 29, 2014

How to talk to your child about people with disabilities

by Mary-Jane Williams from the Washington Post:
Growing up, I was never really exposed to children who had disabilities. The kids in my elementary school in the 1970s who had Down syndrome, autism or cerebral palsy were in a separate classroom, and we rarely saw them. And while I remember very clearly my parents talking about race, religion and sexuality, we never talked much about disabilities.
Sure, we were told that it wasn’t polite to stare, or ask a lot of questions. But that was the extent of the conversations.
We’ve come a long way. Now, many children with intellectual or developmental disabilities are in the same public school classrooms as their typically developing peers, for part, if not all, of the day. There are entire months set aside for autism and Down syndrome awareness, and plenty of blogs out there about parenting a child with disabilities. It’s become part of the mainstream.
But because we didn’t grow up with a lot of exposure to people with different abilities, many parents today struggle with how to talk to their kids about disabilities, according to Michelle Sie Whitten, the executive director of the Global Down Syndrome Foundation.

Tuesday, January 7, 2014

How I told my 7-Year-Old son he has Down Syndrome

by Kari Wagner-Peck from Daily Life:
A couple of weeks ago, I was interviewed by a local television station. The day they were coming to our house, I woke up at 2:48 in the morning, convinced I was going to have an anxiety attack. Part of the interview was to talk about Down syndrome.
Why did I wake in such a state? My husband and I had never told our 7-year-old son he has Down syndrome.
It isn't like the subject hadn't come up. But how would it help him to know at this age? Can a child -- any child -- understand what that means? Honestly, I find most adults, including educators and other professionals, know next to nothing about Down syndrome.
The other thing -- how would I do it? I can't adequately explain how Curious George is entrusted to navigate ships into New York harbor or why the tediously boring Caillou seems popular. How could I explain Down syndrome?
But, now I had to. What if some kid's parent from school saw me on TV? What if they talked about him having Down syndrome? Then, what if that kid said to our kid at school the next day, "So you have Down syndrome, huh?"
My heart was racing during the next couple of hours as I lay in bed trying to turn this thing in my mind. Finally unable to contain myself, I decided to wake my husband.
"We have to tell him today!" I yelled, sitting upright in bed.
"What's happening?" came my husband's voice from under the covers.
"Wake up! We have to tell him he has Down syndrome!" I said.

Tuesday, September 18, 2012

Dad battles to get son with Down syndrome back on playing field



by Shawn Windser, Detriot Free Press and Delmarvanow.com:
Until last December, nothing scared Dean Dompierre more than the thought of speaking in public. If this seems odd for a man who teaches science and social studies to fifth-graders, well, Dompierre understands. He’s equally baffled.
Still, Dompierre knew that if he were going to have any chance to convince the Michigan High School Athletic Association to change its rules to allow his son to play football during his senior year, he would have to overcome his deepest phobia.
He feared letting down his son, Eric, even more.
Eric Dompierre was born with an extra copy of chromosome 21, a genetic fluke that slows cognitive function and generally stunts physical growth. Jill and Dean Dompierre worried for their son’s future when he was born with Down syndrome 19 years ago. They never imagined that one day Eric would be driving, or working, or enjoying friendships. Or playing high school football.
Certainly the father never figured football would become so central to his son’s identity. But it did. And because Eric needed to be held back in his early years of elementary school, Dean knew his son would be too old to play his senior year — the MHSAA dictated that kids can’t participate in sports their senior year if they turn 19 before Sept. 1.
This realization sent Dompierre on a 2-year odyssey that landed him on national television and the floor of the state Legislature, that taught him to navigate social media and to wield the power of public opinion, that expanded his world from a middle school classroom tucked in an old brick schoolhouse a few minutes from Lake Superior to the home office of the statistician of the Detroit Lions.
Along the way, Dompierre and his son became local celebrities, proxies for anyone who ever tried to fight the Man. Everywhere the father turned, someone offered to help — politicians, principals, computer programmers, neighbors and fathers in communities downstate who had heard about Dompierre’s crusade and figured he was fighting for their children, too.
Two weeks ago, a 5-foot-2-inch, 125-pound senior at Ishpeming High ran onto the football field with his teammates. His father and mother were in the stands, along with his grandparents on both sides and several cousins and family friends.
Eric didn’t wave. Or nod. Or give his extended family any hint that he knew they were bunched up in the stands -- he is, after all, a teenager. His father didn’t mind, though. That he was on the field was enough.
Dean Dompierre, 48, recently began his 26th year of teaching middle school. His father, Dave Dompierre, was a teacher, too. A couple of weeks ago on a Friday afternoon, Dean Dompierre broke down photosynthesis for a roomful of fifth-graders in Ishpeming. Outside, clouds formed overhead and Dompierre cracked the windows to let the cool, damp breeze flow in.
Downstairs, in another section of the building that houses the high school and the middle school, Dompierre’s son sports his game-day jersey in study hall.
Eric fit into these halls so seamlessly that he didn’t know he had Down syndrome until the ninth grade, when his father took him into their basement sauna so they could talk. Eric was playing on the freshman football team, attempting extra points. After he made his first one, a local TV station wanted to do a human interest story.
Dompierre and his wife didn’t want to tell Eric he had a disability because they didn’t want to give him an excuse not to do something. But they agreed to do the story and decided it was time to tell Eric.
“So we are taking a sauna … and I said, ‘Have you ever heard of Down syndrome?’ He said no. I said it’s a condition where there is an extra chromosome.
“I said some people consider it a handicap. You know how sometimes for kids with Down syndrome it’s hard to catch on to things? That’s why sometimes it’s a little harder for you to catch on to things. … But once you do catch on you remember it well. You have a great memory. … That’s just the opposite of me. I can catch on to things quick, but I can’t remember them. So you and I are both in the same boat.”