A Job at Kroger

Last week during Ivey's IEP meeting I asked the teachers, therapists and staff to see Ivey as a Kroger employee– the person who stands at the end of the cashier line bagging your groceries. That is a job that both Matt and I desire as a possibility in Ivey's future.

A job.
A means to give back to the system that gives to her.
A way to enable herself.
A manner to be an independent person / human being outside of her parents.

I asked her teachers to then work backward from that goal and begin to teach Ivey life skills needed.  What mountains will we move over the course of the next few years - so that Ivey can greet you at the end of your line at Kroger? 

I had the honor of knowing one of the baggers at our Kroger when he was in high school. Stanley. I have also come to know another. Sean. No matter the length of the line – if one of them is working – that's my line.


I call them by name. I ask about their life outside of Kroger. I treat them how I want Ivey to be treated. How I like to be treated. And, I always try to tip them well – because I know they are really working harder to do a good job - that to do their job well – it takes more effort. (That's my little secret though.)


So I pick my battles – though I do not seem to pick them well. But I am determined to make a difference in my beautiful girl's life. Even if it is a minimal difference, I pray that my intentions are never in vain.


Luckily today Ivey was with her gran-gran while I went shopping at Kroger.


Today as the obnoxious lady screamed at one of her two sons – she belittled him by asking if he were 'retarded'.
I froze – only feet from her.
She went on 'do you want me to commit you are something? Humph…
'YOooU RETARD'.

This type of scenario is a weekly occurance.  Or,  situations where laughing is envolved and the 'retard' in the story is comical...being made fun of....how could someone be That stupid....intellectually stupid...stupid....they take the short bus to school.....

I stared – heart beating in my throat – hands shaking – adrenaline swirling - fighting back the urge to grab her by the arm. Shake her. She stared back at me. Then her eyes dropped to the ground.


And I became the coward. I didn't stand up for what is right –


I fought back tears and was thankful that Ivey's ears were innocent of her words.


I was also thankful when I got to the front of the store that Stanley and Sean were nowhere in sight. They are good people trying to do a job – not come to work to be stereotyped or demeaned because of a fate in life that they did not chose. As is Ivey, two people leading a life that no one would wish for – ever. No one prays this life for their children.


What would she have said had I turned to her son and asked him 'Well, are you a retard?'


But Ivey and Stanley and Sean – carry their crosses well.


And it is OUR job in this world to help them.


Since I consider anyone who reads Ivey's blog a friend – I will leave you with a letter that I did email out to friends (here) just a couple of weeks ago. It had been brought to my attention over time that maybe I should address the label 'RETARD' to those around us. I think you all should read it too. And maybe it is a war that I will inevitably lose – but if one person begins to think and speak differently out of RESPECT of Ivey, then I have won a battle. Ivey has won.


Subject: I have a mentally retarded daughter


Yes. It is true. And yes, it is also true that the term 'mentally retarded' is not socially correct any more, but who are we kidding the general population still uses it. In the less pungent world and in schools words like 'special needs' and 'mentally delayed' are more graceful words used to describe my daughter. But let's call a spade a spade, Ivey is mentally retarded.


Mental retardation is defined as someone having significantly impaired cognitive functions and deficits in adaptive behaviors. Simply put, Ivey has difficulty learning and her social skills are lacking notably. She makes unusual noises. She uncontrollably drools a lot. She rocks, shakes her hands, kicks her feet and bounces - to the untrained eye it is probably strange or downright weird - to us- she needs vestibular stimulation, but that is another story. I guess what her facial features don't tell someone, Ivey's actions do. She is mentally retarded. Some people would shorten it to - "retard".


There - I said it again.


I imagine some of you are looking at this computer screen with wide eyes at this point, maybe some of you think I have finally snapped, and some of you are probably a little angry.


Good.


Please remember those emotions the next time you encounter someone who uses the terms "retarded" or "retard". And please rethink it if you use those terms yourself. They are not funny or cute. I can hardly deem them words worth using casually among friends, to friends or about friends.


They are words that are the very epitome of Ivey. The word retarded was created because of people like Ivey. Our family and friends tend to take the words personally because they are in fact very personal words - to us- they describe someone we all love dearly.


Retard is a HATE word.


Our children are listening. My children are listening. Imagine explaining what the word 'retard' means to your 5 and 7 year old with a mentally retarded sister.


I can see this as one of my sons one day -- http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CoqaNG0Ozqc


Much love,
Gwen