MY SON: GOD’S MISTAKE?
OK, I admit: I have a
problem with it. It doesn’t seem to bother my wife --- not as much as it
bothers me, at any rate. I think women may be more accepting of things like
this. Maybe I’m a little closed-minded, but I really don’t think I’m any less
tolerant than most men. Or, maybe it upsets me so much because it involves my son. Would it trouble me less if it were
my daughter?
Maybe the reason it
bothers me more than it does my wife is that we don’t have as many people like
that on my side of the family; in fact, I can think of only one of my relatives
who’s like that: My Uncle Charlie. But, right off the top of my head, I can
name at least five or six of my wife’s relatives who are like that. Maybe, just
maybe, that’s why it doesn’t seem to
bother her so much.
It bothered Dianne
Feinstein’s parents and grandparents. But they were Jews from the Old Country,
and I am not. Maybe my attitude is a holdover from that of my grandparents who
were, in fact, immigrants. Again, I don’t know if it would bother me so much to
have a daughter like that.
“Like
that,” I said. DAMN!
I can’t even use the word for people like my son.
“Like that.” Maybe if I
called him “special”? No, that wouldn’t work; it would imply that he’s retarded
--- ooops! I mean “mentally challenged” or “differently abled.” And he’s not
--- in fact, he’s exceptionally bright. But I’ve learned that many people like
him are mentally gifted, and actual studies by scholars at University College
London, Lafayette College, and Johns Hopkins have shown that males like my son
are 15% richer than other Western men who attended college, and 26% richer if
they graduated. His group has historically produced an above-average quota of high
achievers. Why? Nobody really knows, but it seems that their brains are
structured in a way that widens their range of abilities, and the genes which
may determine their condition seem also to be the ones which govern development
of the language centers of the brain.
So I should be proud of
him, not ashamed, wouldn’t you think? I’m sorry…I can’t help it. I try, but it
still bothers me. It bothers the hell
out of me.
“The hell”: What a curious
term for me to use right now, especially since people down through history ---
and in some places even today --- have considered people like my son to be the
spawn of the devil. There have been societies in which children were actually killed when it became apparent that they
were like that. Into the 18th and 19th centuries, they
suffered severe prejudice, and the condition was often “beaten out of” people.
As adults, they were shunned by society, which resulted in fewer of them marrying
and reproducing. And, as was the case with Senator Feinstein, they were often
forced to “switch-hit,” but as prejudice against them declined somewhat during
the 20th century, this became less common (although Dory Previn
wrote a song in which she related that the nuns in her school “broke her out of
it”).
For some unknown reason,
the rising age of motherhood seems to have increased the incidence of this
condition; statistically, older mothers seem more likely to give birth to
children “like that.” And, even though I just referred to “the genes which may
determine their condition,” in my heart I do not believe that it is genetic,
that they were born that way; God doesn’t make mistakes.
“Honey,” asks my wife,
“Tell me again: Exactly when did you sit down with our son and have a
heart-to-heart talk with him, tell him he could choose how he wanted to be, and
he chose to be like he is? Did your
dad have that talk with you and you
chose to be the way you are?”
“That’s silly,” I always
reply. “Of course not.”
My wife tells me all the
time that I should be proud of our son, and accept him as he is. I should, she
insists, embrace his differentness. After all, he’s in good company: People
such as Bill Clinton, Benjamin Franklin, Steve Forbes, Ronald Reagan, Alexander
the Great, Joan of Arc, Queen Victoria, Paul McCartney, and even Barack Obama.
But I wonder if she really wants our
son to be a member of the club that also includes James Baldwin and Richard
Simmons and Jimi Hendrix and Kurt Cobain and Tiny Tim and George Michael and
Tom Cruise --- and such people as John Dillinger, the Boston Strangler,
Jack-the-Ripper, and Pat Robertson.
Maybe someday I’ll change.
Maybe someday it won’t upset me so much to watch our son write and draw and bat
differently from his brothers. Maybe someday it won’t trouble me so much that
my son…my son…is like that.
“Like
that.” No. I’m going
to use the word for it. After all he is my son, and I love him and accept him.
I am not ashamed of him.
I accept and embrace and
love my little southpaw. My left-handed
son.
Left-handed.
There: I’ve said it; I’ve used the word.
My mother in law was born left handed. Her mother wasn't as accepting as that father. She forced her to use her right hand. I can't imagine how hard it must have been for her. She uses her right hand now, but it's not how she was born.
ReplyDeleteShe is always moody. I think it's because she was forced to change. There's no telling the effects that would have on a child.