Errol Milner Clifford 2006-2009

Errol Milner Clifford was born with a significant heart defect and a cognitive disability that prevented him from walking or talking. As we grieved the child we had anticipated, Errol’s full-bodied smile and irrepressible laugh turned our sorrow into joy, and taught us that many of the best things in life are unexpected. Inspired by Errol’s delightful spirit, friends, family, and neighbors rallied to support our family’s significant emotional, physical, and financial needs, through countless acts of selfless generosity. When Errol’s courageous heart finally failed him on December 23, 2009 we were left numb with grief. In these dark hours we listen hopefully for the echoes of Errol’s brilliant laugh. This blog is the story (starting from present and working back to Errol's birth) of the life and times of the amazing Errol Clifford.


Wednesday, December 13, 2006

Invisible People


At times, when I've seen mentally handicapped people (see the Naming Errol post for more on this) I've avoided making eye contact. I don't feel good about this fact, and I didn't even know I was doing it until Errol came into my life. That's when I realized my responses to people with mental disabilities. Errol is changing this bad habit of mine, and when I see people like Errol I gaze right at them and try to catch their eye. Thanks to Errol, I see them in a different light.

I don't think I'm the only one who shuns the disabled (in fact, I think it's fairly normal behavior), and I'm trying to figure out why we humans do it. Perhaps we wince at imperfection. Perhaps we don't want to see what we are only a few chromosomes away from, ourselves. Perhaps we have worked so hard to evolve as a species, that it is hard to see those who seem to be swimming against the evolutionary tide. Maybe we are just scared of any difference or deviation from the norm.

The way we treat disabled folks is a sign of how civilized (or uncivilized) we are. The way we care for them says a lot about how far we have evolved as a civilization. Errol has civilized me, and allowed me to see more of this beautifully diverse world.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Dear Jonathan -

I'm sorry if I am responding too much, but these are things I have thought of so much.

I believe that the reason we avoid eye contact with people who are "different" is that we are not in touch with ourselves any better than we are. We cannot really sit with ourselves, and face ourselves. There is something in us that we are reluctant to face.

I think we are "afraid" giving eye contact will require too much of us in terms of interaction or time spent. I think a simple smile given is such a gift, and says more than words.

I'm sure you remember Aunt Priss. No one thought of Aunt Priss as disabled or different. She was just Aunt Priss. Yet she had enormous challenges. But she presented to the world as "normal," because she saw herself that way. Do you remember one of her great gifts to us all? It was, of course, her smile. It could light up the world! She never ever wanted to be treated as one who was different. I think that's the key. We're all just brothers and sisters on this planet, each in need of love and acceptance.

"And doesn't it strike you as strangely ridiculous that human creatures, scared rabbits as we all are at heart, should ever be afraid of each other?" (Eliz. Goudge)

I believe that every single person is challenged or wounded in some way. We are all "wounded healers," to be sure. All imperfect. When we see that, we see that people who are physically or mentally challenged are as normal as we are. And we, like them, are challenged too. Just in different ways.

Love,
Marigene