THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, October 29, 1995 TAG: 9510250052
SECTION: REAL LIFE PAGE: K5 EDITION: FINAL
COLUMN: THE IMPERFECT NAVIGATOR
SOURCE: BY ALEXANDRIA BERGER
LENGTH: Medium: 87 lines
WHEN I WAS a little kid, everything embarrassed me. From an embarrassed kid, I became an embarrassed teenager. The last place to be caught dead was with my parents, period. I didn't have the internal resources one hopefully acquires as one grows up.
My kids were no different. When my son was little, I wore jeans instead of dresses. He wanted me to wear ``mother clothes'' and dye my hair gray. He wanted me to look just like his best friend's mother. He figured if I looked like her, his friend would accept me. Most importantly, his friend would accept him.
Today's column is about kids embarrassed by their parents' physical disabilities. Sort of. The truth is, embarrassment has no age limit. But when our kids are embarrassed by us, boy do we get sensitive. I've talked to a lot of parents and have come to the conclusion that kids don't segregate issues. Being embarrassed is being embarrassed . . . over anything that makes a kid feel different.
Remember, the mere challenge of discovering the self with its own natural feelings of insecurity can cloud a child's view of right and wrong. If our kids are embarrassed by the way we dress or talk or by our job, we chalk it up to their going through ``a stage.''
If we are a disabled or disfigured parent, it's easy to lose perspective. Being disabled is somehow supposed to have different standards by which our children accept us and cope. We expect our kids to know the rules and not be embarrassed by our being different.
So what should we do?
First, admit that your child's negative reaction to a family member's disability hurts. That hurt can overshadow perspective, especially if we're embarrassed by that disability ourselves.
Second, we've got to talk about it with the child.
From the experts come suggestions: Acknowledge and respect your kids' behavior and feelings.
Here are some phrases with which to start a discussion:
``I imagine you must feel embarrassed about the way I look. . . .''
``I would probably feel the same way too if . . . ''
``It's hard having a parent who's different, isn't it?''
Get to the heart of secret fears. Ask you children if they're afraid that they'll become disabled like you and won't be able to cope or be accepted by their friends. Ask if they're afraid that you're going to die.
What you perceive as your child's embarrassment over you may be a fear of losing you. You represent their security. If something happens to you, they may wonder who's going to be there for them. Worse, they might fear or resent having to ``take your place.''
Children naturally want to help, to be part of a family. Your being disabled may make them feel inadequate because they lack the ability to make you ``all better.'' While their expectations certainly may seem unrealistic to you, they're real to them. Help your kids breathe a sigh of relief by letting them know that you're on their wave length.
Assess how you present your disability to the world. Does your child see you complain, get angry, act depressed? Children learn what they live. Are you afraid, insecure and supersensitive to every slight and gesture? Your embarrassment becomes theirs too.
Ask yourself what demands or chores you assign to your child or teenager because of your disability that may seem unfair?
See situations through the eyes of humor. Laughter can form a bond of intimacy between you and your child.
Use differences as a way to teach values. Linda Pendergraft Quash, who suffers with the connective tissue diseases scleroderma, did that for her children. Her daughter Tiffany, a Great Bridge High School junior, won third place in the Make a Difference Foundation Writing contest.
Tiffany wrote about the difficulties that disabling illness can cause within a family and about responsibilities and change.
My mother, she wrote, ``slowly helped me realize that she was the same person mentally but not physically. In fact, I never realized how I would treat people in wheelchairs . . . until my mother became (handicapped). This situation brought me to a closer understanding of myself. . . . It brought my family closer with a more caring atmosphere. We were able to find a relationship that was never there before.''
Well said. Well taught. Being embarrassed lessens with age and acceptance. Your kids will outgrow it. Mine did. Now we laugh and share life's embarrassing moments together.
Some final words of advice: keep perspective, communicate and teach with love. MEMO: Write Alexandria Berger c/o The Imperfect Navigator, The
Virginian-Pilot, 150 W. Brambleton Avenue, Norfolk, Va. 23510. by CNB