Hope and Henry showing off their Disability Pride flag shirts.
Last week I received a call from the principal of my six-year-old’s camp. A boy had been taunting my son for how he looks, in particular his upper limb difference. The teacher intervened and the principal managed the situation with compassion and an open heart, but my little boy was left in the wake of the incident, learning to be brave after a peer chose to make fun of him, yet again, for something he cannot control.
Understandably, he was sad. He articulated that a boy had been “mean.” Although my wheels are always turning on how to grow a stronger community for my children and their friends, in the short-term only two solutions came to mind: ice cream and some books.
After going elbow-deep in Ben & Jerry’s chocolate ice cream, we drove over to the Ridgewood Public Library. I’ve curated many books on disability for our home, but today we needed the experience of representation in the community. I wanted to make a point to my son that he’s not alone, even if he’s unique in our family, at school, and among friends. To say that I was pleasantly surprised when we were pointed in the direction of a dedicated display in the children’s section would be an understatement—it was beautiful! Showcased for my children to read were the words: Celebrate Disability Pride Month
The Disability Pride Month display in the children’s section of the Ridgewood Public Library.
One in four people in the United States has a disability, so it’s likely that you or someone you know and love is living with a physical, emotional, or cognitive impairment that is, without mitigating measures (e.g., medication, medical devices, assistive technology, accommodations, learned behavioral modifications), disabling. Disability Pride Month was established in July of 1990 to commemorate the passage of the Americans with Disabilities Act (which was signed 34 years ago today, July 26th!), commonly known as the ADA, and as a rejection to the shame many disabled individuals have been forced to navigate their lives within.
In the spirit of uniting the many unique disability communities, Ann Magill, a writer with cerebral palsy, designed the Disability Pride flag in 2016, which went viral when she released it to the public domain three years later. She then redesigned the flag in 2021 to what we see today, straightening the once zigzagged lines and muting the previously bold colors, both of which had inadvertently triggered seizures in those scrolling past the image online, as well as being inaccessible to those with color blindness. Incorporated into this flag’s design is pain and triumph, but never defeat.
Green: sensory disabilities
Blue: emotional and psychiatric disabilities
White: invisible and undiagnosed disabilities
Gold: neurodiversity, including cognitive and intellectual disabilities
Red: physical disabilities
Charcoal background: rage and protest against mistreatment, as well as mourning those who have been lost to ableism, violence, negligence, suicide, rebellion, illness, and eugenics
Diagonal stripe design: cuts across the walls and barriers that separate disabled people from society, as well as remaining a static design when the viewer is scrolling the image electronically, which in a previous design caused flashing that affected those with neurological disorders
Unlike some marginalized groups that can pass down family stories or personal experiences to their children, nondisabled parents raising children with disabilities must conduct their own research and build their understanding from the ground up, particularly if they’ve had no prior exposure to people with disabilities due to longstanding systemic bias. So, what do I want to teach my children? What do I want to teach all children? To start…
You are beautiful, on the inside and on the outside.
Your abilities do not define your worth.
Always be kind and offer help when you can.
Everyone’s gifts are different—discover yours.
Asking for help is a brave thing to do.
You may have to believe in yourself first if you want others to believe in you, too.
Exactly who you are is exactly who you are meant to be.
A few years ago, pandemic-inspired I’m sure, a major newspaper ran a parenting newsletter about adults who have imaginary friends, known as parasocial relationships. Whereas children dream up characters that embody whimsical features and heroic traits, adults tend to develop relationships with TV/movie characters and online personalities with whom they’ve never had a two-way interaction before in real life. To this day, I struggle with the fact that Heath Ledger is gone, even 16 years since his passing. Recently, I felt betrayed by the exodus of Peloton instructors who had cheered me on during some of my most difficult moments these past few years. On nearly a daily basis, when I’m feeling confused and lost on my parenting journey, I miss Judy Heumann. I miss her so much.
Hope wearing a shirt displaying a quote from late disability rights activist Judy Heumann, “I wanna see feisty disabled people change the world.”
Judy Heumann, who passed away in 2023, is often referred to as the mother of the disability rights movement. Despite being a pivotal character forcing the passage of Section 504 of the Rehabilitation Act in 1977, as well as other critical pieces of legislation for people with disabilities, including Individuals with Disabilities Education Act (IDEA), the ADA, and the United Nations Convention on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities, I hadn’t heard of her until I enrolled in CUNY’s Disability Studies program while on my own quest to discover the history within which both of my children had been born. Between her memoir, Being Heumann, and the documentary, “Crip Camp,” both stories spanning her child- through adulthood, she proved that with conviction and solidarity, the seemingly impossible was in fact possible. There is little the disability community has today for which we don’t have Judy Heumann and those she rallied into action to thank.
After years of commitment to Bergen County Moms, I am thrilled to share my presence as a regular contributor, and I look forward to sharing little snippets of our journey as well as the opportunity to invite disabled voices from our shared community into this conversation. The human experience is varied and diverse, and we all have a lot to learn from each other if only we choose to take a moment to pause, listen, and consider what we have witnessed.
Happy Disability Pride Month!
Elena Croy is an ordinary mom learning life’s lessons from her two extraordinary children. She and her husband are raising their little girl, who has Down syndrome, and their son, who was born with upper limb differences, in Ridgewood. Elena chronicles their challenges, triumphs, and goofiness at AtHerOwnPace.com. Elena is proud to serve as a grassroots Down syndrome advocate for the National Down Syndrome Society.
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