It’s strange realising that something you used to think was trite and preachy is actually worth thinking about.
In other news, I was just hugged by a homeless person.
Growing up in Christian culture, you get very used to reading Inspirational Stories. (These being capitalised because, unlike stories that happen to be inspiring, these ones are likely to end up with glossy covers and the words “An Inspirational True Story of a Teen Who Found Her Way” emblazoned across the front. The inspiration is built right in.)
You hear about teens who succeeded at basketball and followed Christ, young adults who volunteered in the third world and followed Christ, and kids who preached the gospel to their classmates and followed Christ. Interestingly, the basketball, the volunteering, and the preaching are all equally unconnected to “following Christ”: apparently the way people follow Christ is by having a cool Bible and putting posters of Inspirational Poetry up on their bedroom wall – actions have nothing to do with it.
I used to roll my eyes at all these Inspirational Stories. I still used to read them, though – because they were there, I was bored, and I secretly wanted to star in one of them.
(I will never star in one of them. Which is sad. But happily, I just got hugged by a homeless person, which pretty much made my day.)
There was one theme that kept coming up in the Inspirational Stories: that helping people is really not a sacrifice; it’s a blessing.
Volunteering at a soup kitchen? A blessing.
Helping tsunami victims? A blessing.
Being nice to people you don’t like? A blessing.
Working your arse off for people who won’t notice? A total blessing.
Giving all your stuff to charity? Huge blessing.
Apparently, the more self-sacrificing you were, and the crappier it felt, the bigger the blessing. Which made sense, sort of – you’d get character growth (a good thing, supposedly), and then a really cool reward in heaven (also good, if vague) to make up for not enjoying it one little bit.
I would read the umpteenth story of an Inspiring Teenager serving the world in unappealing ways, and gushing “It’s a real blessing, it really is!!!” And I’d roll my eyes, and wonder if I could convince them to act as my personal slave if I promised them vague “blessings” for doing so.
Because, really, “blessings” are all very well. But sometimes doing the right thing sucks, and we should either be doing it even though it sucks, or not doing it at all. Sugar-coated promises of blessings we won’t get are just patronizing.
That was ten years ago. I’ve changed a bit since then.
Today, I got hugged by a homeless person. This being because I
1) gave him twenty dollars
2) gave him an Easter egg
Not exactly earth-shattering, especially when you consider that I regularly spend more than that on junk food, silly hats, or dvds I’ll never get round to watching. But it’s much more than I’d have done a few years ago.
Today I am starting to figure out some stuff that teenaged-me would have rolled her eyes at. And one of them is that when people say that sacrifice is a blessing, they might actually mean it.
Giving up something – whether it’s money, time, anger, revenge, possessions, or whatever else – can be hard, but it can also be liberating. Realising that this thing I hold so tightly to simply doesn’t matter compared to loving the people around me is freeing, in a way I was never expecting. It’s wonderful being able to take something I have, and say “You know what? This really isn’t important. I’m going to let go of it, and make someone else happy in the process.”
It is, in short, a blessing.
Today I got hugged by a homeless person, because he thought I’d given him a gift that warranted a hug. I wish I’d been able to tell him that I felt the same way.
--Deird
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Excellent post and excellent sentiment.
This is the single hardest thing I've ever tried to teach my sons, mainly because doing the right thing often really sucks and has no happy ending. It may work out in the long run, but in the long run we are all dead. A post like this makes the lesson a little easier.
Also, I give socks to homeless people. I keep a couple of packages of cotton tube socks in my car, and give them to guys begging by the side of the road. So far, the socks have been received with humbling gratitude. At least one guy said "Socks! These are like gold out here!" Andy and Aaron were in the car with me then and got to see the reaction, so maybe something's catching on.
Posted by: Karen, who is still stoked about getting a Slactiverse link | May 04, 2011 at 07:38 PM
Today I got hugged by a homeless person, because he thought I’d given him a gift that warranted a hug. I wish I’d been able to tell him that I felt the same way.
Posted by: bestmishu | May 04, 2011 at 09:04 PM
Thank you, Deird. Now *I'm* inspired. :-)
Posted by: Callia | May 04, 2011 at 10:11 PM
One of the things I really hated about being unemployed was not being able to give money to or buy food for homeless people. I'm a liberal Christian, so not helping them--especially when I can see that they are old or disabled or significantly underweight--really goes against what I claim to stand for. I gave small amounts of money to a couple and transit tokens to a couple yesterday, and it felt wonderful to be able to do that.
Posted by: kisekileia | May 05, 2011 at 07:54 AM
What a delightful vignette that was. Thanks muchly.
Posted by: Launcifer | May 05, 2011 at 10:19 AM
Amen to that!!
Posted by: textjunkie | May 05, 2011 at 10:43 AM
Very cool.
In the long run, I think it's a question of what one considers a blessing. To people like you and me, the gratitude of a homeless guy and the knowledge that we did something is a true blessing indeed.
Posted by: Jarred | May 05, 2011 at 10:50 AM
Karen: Also, I give socks to homeless people. I keep a couple of packages of cotton tube socks in my car, and give them to guys begging by the side of the road.
I love this idea! I keep fast-food gift certificates (many local restaurants implicitly require a food purchase before you use their washrooms), but there's no reason I can't tuck them into a pair of socks.
Posted by: hapax | May 05, 2011 at 11:04 AM
I think that the blessings of self-sacrifice are one of those things that have to come as an insight from within you. The problem with the inspirational stories is that they can easily slide into "Appreciate your blessings because it makes *my* life better" exhortations, and that doesn't work. (Deird, I thought you avoided that trap very neatly.) And in any case, if you don't feel blessed, being told to feel blessed is a crock.
Does anyone know of philosophy or religious instruction books, in any tradition, that tackle "things that are virtues when you do them of your own choice, but are not good to ask of another"? I am increasingly feeling like I need to sort this out, and I don't have much to draw on. My childhood religious education totally denied this class of stuff, to my cost.
Posted by: MaryKaye | May 05, 2011 at 12:19 PM
When I moved to Vancouver I was stunned by the number of homeless people everywhere, and was shocked that people treated this as normal. It was shattering. For a while I made a policy of carrying a pocket full of loonies* wherever I went. I can't afford that right now, but worse I've become as jaded as everyone else. I know how not to look. I've developed sort of a weird loping stride that seems to make homeless people not want to ask me for money -- I'm not sure why that works, but it does. I've learned to say a quick "I'm sorry, sir," fairly sincere but really just a good way of passing by. I've become as jaded as everyone else. I don't like that I no longer seem to care but I don't. I don't know what to do about that lack of feeling. I don't like the fact that on an emotional level the presence of the desperately poor in my wealthy neighborhood no longer hits me in the gut.
Some of them, the binners, clearly work harder than I do. They're people who dig around all over town, rooting through garbage cans looking for recyclables. Pennies for a plastic bottle. I see them on the bus with garbage bags full. Sometimes I've seen the garbage bags tear open. Here I am posting a blog comment in the middle of the workday.
I will be eating an eggplant Parmesan tonight. I like to cook. Presumably some of them feel the same way but lack raw ingredients and a kitchen.
Also, I give socks to homeless people.
Brilliant. For a while I toyed with the idea of organizing a foot washing campaign. A Christian sacrament that doesn't need to be as condescending as most one-way methods of helping (properly it's a symbol of mutual need and help -- I need my feet washed too) (and something that doesn't need to be explicitly religious either). More importantly it's desperately needed practical help. Trenchfoot is commonplace on the streets here, what with the damp weather and the lack of places to dry their shoes. Dry socks, gentle massage -- it actually would matter. An idea that died without much leaving my head.
* Canadian $1 coins carry a picture of a loon, and the nickname is universal. For a while I wanted to call the $2 coin a doubloon but it never caught on.
Posted by: Ian | May 05, 2011 at 12:29 PM
I definitely like the idea of socks - I should start carrying more things like that. For a while, I had an ongoing conversation with an older homeless gentleman who hung out outside my work. A few times a week, I would ask him what he would like from the food cart nearby and get it for him. Eventually, I learned to know his preferences and would just get it without needing to ask (he always asked for the same thing). I did get him a cucumber from the farmers market once (upon request), which I think he just ate raw. After about a year of this, he just disappeared one day. I had no idea how to find out what happened to him, but it definitely saddened me. I know he had some mental and physical health problems, so I only hope he got the help he needed.
Also, just to plug one of my favorite charities, DC Central Kitchen (http://www.dccentralkitchen.org/) does tremendous work for homeless and low-income folks in the DC metro region. They have fantastic programs that not only provide food but empower people to serve themselves and others as well. They're actually featured on an episode of Anthony Bourdain's No Reservations: http://www.dccentralkitchen.org/20-no-reservations.php
Posted by: storiteller | May 05, 2011 at 12:46 PM
This was lovely, Deird.
We used to do a sock drive at my school (I was involved with the hanging-out-with-homeless-people group). Students liked it because it was tangible and fairly cheap. We also used to make bedrolls, which was slightly more involved.
I'd say that hanging out with people who were homeless kind of changed my life.
Posted by: sarah | May 05, 2011 at 01:00 PM
I identify with this story. I remember clearly discussing the need for charity and generosity as part of a spiritual plan (pagans in Kabbalah class, so not at all from an "inspirational" perspective). I remember feeling too impoverished (recently divorced, living on credit, crappy job) to see this as anything but another obligation. But I decided that I should try to balance my life, and my experience was much like this, once I started looking for ways to help.
Now, I do volunteer work and give out spare change and cigarettes--or I've given sodas or bottled water when I had them in my car. Once, I stopped my car where a homeless guy was begging and said, I don't have money, but I have the second half of this sandwich. He took it with a smile. Now, I consider it vital to my mental and spiritual health to be able to share my relative wealth.
And I totally love the sock idea.
Posted by: Thalia | May 05, 2011 at 01:39 PM
Hee! Socktivism!
Posted by: hapax | May 05, 2011 at 01:58 PM
@hapax: You can get anything you want...
Posted by: sarah | May 05, 2011 at 02:11 PM
@hapax: I caught a broadcast of a live performance of that from many many years later, and he did replace the second bracketed bit with longer explanation of how times had changed, but how they still wouldn't take you.
Also, after "They may think it's a movement," he added, "Though most of them won't know what a movement is."
Posted by: Ross | May 05, 2011 at 03:16 PM
Gripe. Gripe, gripe, gripe. There was a long discussion about racism on Patheoslack the other day, and I, of course, wanted to EXPLAIN to people. (I resisted.) Today, however, I'm here: http://awesomescreenshot.com/065ciqy56
I don't know what to do. :( But if y'all want to play Racism Bingo with it, it might make me feel better. :(
Posted by: Thalia | May 05, 2011 at 03:35 PM
Thalia, I wish there was a prize for these rotten bingo cards. :(
Posted by: Sixwing | May 05, 2011 at 03:51 PM
Thanks, @Sixwing. I hate it. I hate it that just "watch your mouth" can't be said. Just, you know, "you were taught better. Whatever you feel, behave like you're amongst polite people." No, I poke a pustule full of rationalization. I'm ashamed that I can't do better.
Posted by: Thalia | May 05, 2011 at 04:08 PM
I've become as jaded as everyone else. I don't like that I no longer seem to care but I don't. I don't know what to do about that lack of feeling. I don't like the fact that on an emotional level the presence of the desperately poor in my wealthy neighborhood no longer hits me in the gut.
Right there with you. That's one of the reasons I started giving to homeless people in the first place: I wanted to stop thinking of them as "scenery", and start remembering they were people.
One thing I find helpful is to stop. When someone's sitting on the street with a hat for coins, the easiest thing to do is walk past and drop a few coins in, no pausing. But if you stop, squat down to the same eye-level, and wish them a good day as you give them something, then both of you get a moment to remember that they matter, they're still a person, and they should get to have a good day.
It's much harder not to connect to someone you're talking to, eye-to-eye.
Posted by: Deird, who sounds way more smug and knowledgey than she actually is... | May 05, 2011 at 04:10 PM
@Thalia: So my favorite thing in that screenshot is this sentence:
"My language rants have more to do with willful ignorance, then racism."
Misplaced comma and improper use of "then." And I think I see a comma splice later in that paragraph. And this person is ranting about language?
Other than that, racism bingo, indeed.
Posted by: sarah | May 05, 2011 at 05:02 PM
@hapax --"litterin'" AND disturbing the peace.
Posted by: walden | May 05, 2011 at 05:10 PM
@Thalia: let me offer much, much, much empathy tea on that specific grump. It drives me to excessive face-palming and head-desking to have to go through Racist Lingustics 101 every year with grad students (who, by their ages, Should Know Better). I have been known to be prissy about grammar and written communication (because I work in a distributed lab, where 99% of our communication is by email) but rationalizing one's own unconsidered and privileged racism through the lens of one's own (often faulty) perception of correct language... Gah. Grr. Argh.
Also, really.... if a computer is tagged Do Not Work, that's pretty clear. Not to mention that post-its aren't meant for massive theses on the specific issues pertaining to functionality. In my handwriting, they have room for little more than a few words. While once, the easiest way to deal with a non-functional machine was to just swipe its keyboard, that no longer works so well given the ubiquity of laptops.
Posted by: CZEdwards | May 05, 2011 at 05:15 PM
Linguistics. (Which proves again... posts discussing grammar are significantly more prone to proof-reading and grammatical errors than those discussing blue-footed boobies.)
Posted by: CZEdwards | May 05, 2011 at 05:16 PM
Have any of those people heard of dyslexia or other reading-related learning disabilities?
I have a friend with such a learning disability.* He's an absolutely brilliant person and articulate speaker. But to sit down and write something that's close to correct spelling and grammar, he has to spend huge amounts of time and have a dictionary right next to him. He tends to only do that for important things, like school work and stuff he's working on for that organizations he volunteers for. When it comes to less formal stuff, stuff that's meant to be quick and dirty anyway, he tends to make a best guess. I've spent a few seconds puzzling a word or sentence in more than one text message from him. It's life.
But no, the fast note couldn't be the result of someone who actually struggles with writing and didn't have the time that it would take them to write a "linguistically perfect"**
note. No it has to be "ebonics."
Not racist my ass.
---
*I suspect the same can be said of my father. But as he's in his late sixties, he was never tested for such things.
**An absurd concept that doesn't really exist anyway.
Posted by: Jarred | May 05, 2011 at 05:48 PM
Given some of the sidebars I figured you might all appreciate another bright moment of the day.
Long story short: in about eight hours my disabled mother's going in to hospital for an ankle replacement that should (fingers and toes crossed) provide a minimum of ten years' full mobility. Given that she'll be out of commission for most of the Summer - and since I can't drive - she decided to replace everything that might feasibly break down in the next few months before going in for surgery. This led to a new television being delivered and installed last thursday. My mum happened to mention to the chap who installed it that she couldn't get hold of any old-fashioned crutches, which she needs because thirteen years of using the modern sort have left with arthritis in both wrists and one elbow and there's no way she'll be able to support her body weight on the standard NHS crutches after her surgery. He tuned the tv, took our clapped out old set and went back to his depot and we thought no more about it.
So, there I am, minding my own business at about 3pm GMT when there's a knock on the door. The guy who installed my tv is standing there with a pair of adjustable wooden crutches. He says he was at a car boot sale at the weekend, saw the crutches and remembered my mum. They were only a pound so he bought them. He then took a day off work and drove two hundred and fifty miles to give them to her the day before she went in to hospital. He wouldn't take anything for them; he said it was a good luck present. Then he got back in his van and drove off.
Today, a guy whose name I don't know drove half the length of England to give my mum - a woman he'd met once for half an hour - something she'll need for her recuperation in the weeks and months ahead. They weren't expensive, but the outlay in time and effort made it incredibly touching for me. I have absolutely no idea what might have prompted him to do that. I just hope I'm lucky enough to meet more people like that in this life. Hell, I hope I grow up to be someone like that.
Posted by: Launcifer | May 05, 2011 at 06:57 PM
Oh, Launcifer, now you've made me all happy...
:D
Posted by: Deird, who likes this story | May 05, 2011 at 07:00 PM
Deird: Yeah, that's kind of how I've felt all afternoon. It certainly made the pre-op worries less worrisome.
Posted by: Launcifer | May 05, 2011 at 07:10 PM
@Launcifer: I...have no words. That's an awesome story.
Posted by: sarah | May 05, 2011 at 07:11 PM
Some folks' rubbish is other folks' gold, at the car boot sale!
So why do the Americans have yard sales and the British have car boot sales? And why would you want to but anything at all at a flea market?
Seriously, that's a lovely story. And best wishes to your mum for her surgery and recuperation.
Posted by: Amaryllis | May 05, 2011 at 07:11 PM
So why do the Americans have yard sales and the British have car boot sales?
Australians have garage sales...
Posted by: Deird, who finds language interesting | May 05, 2011 at 07:15 PM
@Sarah: It's quite possibly one of the most awesome things that's ever happened to me, actually.
@Amaryllis: Makes a change from lice, I guess? Seriously though, I'll be sure to pass on your good wishes. My mum quite likes getting messages from people I speak to over the internet. It's one of her many funky quirks :).
Posted by: Launcifer | May 05, 2011 at 07:18 PM
@Launcifer, please give my best to your mother as well. And thank you for sharing the heartwarming (and rather incredible) story!
Posted by: Laiima | May 05, 2011 at 07:22 PM
Laiima: Will do. And no thanks needed. I'm just glad there's a place I could tell people, to be honest. It was one of those "run up and down the street cheering" moments. I don't get many of those.
Posted by: Launcifer | May 05, 2011 at 07:25 PM
Launcifer, that is the sweetest story ever. And good luck to your mum and to you in the coming months.
Posted by: Ruby | May 05, 2011 at 07:29 PM
Yay, happy stories make me feel better. Thanks.
Posted by: Thalia | May 05, 2011 at 07:39 PM
I'm American, and I'd have a garage sale. Although, I'd at least know what a yard sale was - I don't think I've ever heard "car boot sale" before. It sounds sort of illicit.
Posted by: Dav | May 05, 2011 at 07:39 PM
Wow, Launcifer. Incredible guy, and bestest of best wishes to your mom. (Gran had the knee version of that surgery a couple years ago, and it's incredible what a difference it makes.)
And pardon my confusion, but I am a USian... Our standard crutches are the type that prop under the armpits. When I was on crutches for 6 months a few years ago, my doctor had to special-order for me what we call Canadian crutches (the ones that have a cuff that clasps around the fore-arm.) If I'm reading this right, NHS standard are the fore-arm type, while your old-fashioned ones are the armpit type? I have wrist issues that made our standard crutches torture (as well as the fact that I'm short and all leg)... Given that, is there any chance of finding/borrowing a knee walker?
Posted by: CZEdwards | May 05, 2011 at 07:48 PM
@CZEdwards: Yes, the NHS standard ones are Canadian-style, by the sound of it. Then again, mum had to order a reinforced version of those from Germany, because the ones we have here are useless in her case. The armpit ones are the ones the guy found. I don't know why they've been retired - or even if that's the case all over the country - but I do know that our local health authority (or whatever it's called today) dropped them before mum had her accident. She's been after some since she had her accident back in '98 and hasn't had any luck - and she's been all over the country looking for a surgeon willing to do the operation (well, waiting for the procedure to have been approved for long enough that they had some idea of the failure rate, come to that). No one's been able to provide any.
As to knee walkers, I don't know. She certainly wasn't offered one when the post-operative care people came around last week (Same day as the tv guy, funnily enough). There's a motobility place at the main teaching hospital in the next city over that sells them, though, so it's at least feasible for me to bus it over or catch a train. I'll do some checking and see when she comes out. Thanks for the prod on that. It hadn't occured to me to check those out. Thing is, she's only off her feet for about two weeks. Given that it's her ankle, the Consultant wants her partially weight-bearing after that, mainly to start exercising the new joint and getting her used to working with it.
Posted by: Launcifer | May 05, 2011 at 07:57 PM
We see homeless people occasionally around here and I often want to give something to them but have not managed to get passed my massive shyness to do so yet. Like I have a McD's gift card in my purse even. Open mouth, words freeze in throat. Not sure why.
Launcifer- that story made me tear up. what a sweet man.
Jarred- as someone who teaches students with a variety of reading/writing disabilities and has a dyslexic brother, I'm glad you brought that up. :)
People talking racist nonsense about ebonics piss me off--one of the main points of the idea of codifying and talking about it was to provide a tool for people to teach students to read/speak/write formal English by being able to compare it to the grammar they spoke in their native dialect. Basically it was supposed to help those same people that now get made fun of for speaking it but got turned into a political football. Sigh.
Posted by: alienbooknose | May 05, 2011 at 07:58 PM
Dav: I'm American, and I'd have a garage sale. Although, I'd at least know what a yard sale was--
It varies from state to state, too. I grew up knowing them as garage sales, even if no garage was involved, but then I moved only two states away and they became tag sales, even if a garage WAS involved.
Posted by: Ruby | May 05, 2011 at 08:40 PM
Launcifer, it's a little late for International Pay It Forward Day, but that story shall probably have me smiling for the rest of the evening.
Better, it will prod me to get off my rump and do something for someone tomorrow. Even if it's only bring in cookies for the shelvers.
Posted by: hapax | May 05, 2011 at 08:46 PM
Armpit crutches have been retired because if they aren't adjusted really well, they can cause nerve damage to arms and hands. Just make sure that your mother isn't supporting her weight on her armpits, and all should be good.
Best wishes to her, and thank you for such a fantastic story.
Posted by: cyllan | May 05, 2011 at 09:42 PM
Launcifer, great story. BTW, my job involves teaching people to use crutches. If you're standing up with your arms hanging down by your sides and the crutch is standing next to you, the hand grip should be level with the prominent bone on the little-finger-side of your wrist (the ulnar styloid process); the armpit part should be about 2-3 fingers' widths BELOW your armpit. Cyllan is right that your weight should never be on the armpit portion; it can compress the radial nerve and partially paralyze your arm--either temporarily or permanently. (Google "crutch palsy" for more information.)
Best wishes to your mom for an uneventful surgery, good therapy and a full recovery!
Posted by: Lila | May 05, 2011 at 09:58 PM
Also, armpit crutches take about 200% of the energy expenditure as fore-arm crutches. When one is healing or otherwise has a lack of spoons at hand, that extra energy is critical. (I don't know why the US hasn't shifted, but I'm neither in charge nor consulted.)
Again, best of best wishes. Were there not an ocean and most of a continent in the way, I would love to bring you a casserole for the freezer.
Posted by: CZEdwards | May 05, 2011 at 10:49 PM
Haven't read the thread yet, but just wanted to say Viga and I were talking about exactly this the other night, prompted by me giving a homeless guy my leftovers as we came out of The Diner. It felt good! Way better than eating the leftovers would have.
Posted by: Froborr | May 06, 2011 at 01:04 AM
Don't forget that Jesus wears a silly hat when he helps people, according to the word of Fred. So, wear a silly hat and be Jesus too!
Posted by: Andrew Glasgow | May 06, 2011 at 03:24 AM
CZEdwards: you wouldn't fit a casserole in our freezer at the moment, but thanks for the thought.
Also, thanks everyone for the advice regarding the armpit crutches. I'll pass that along when I go and see her tonight. With luck, she should either have gone in a little while ago, or will go in first thing on the afternoon list. It was a bit of a battle to get her to the hospital this morning, actually, she had a bad flashback to her accident. She hasn't had one of those in about seven years. Still, hopefully it's all good.
Posted by: Launcifer | May 06, 2011 at 07:27 AM
And you know what? Hugged by a homeless person would make an awesome song title, straight or satirical. Someone needs to write that down.
Posted by: Launcifer | May 06, 2011 at 08:37 AM
In New York, we had garage sales, even though most people didn't have garages in my town. When we moved to Mass, we found that most people say yard sale (or, if you're from certain parts of the state, yahhhd sale).
Posted by: sarah | May 06, 2011 at 09:24 AM
So why do the Americans have yard sales and the British have car boot sales?
I'd imagine it has something to do with there being a lot of British houses that don't have yards compared to American houses (or garages).
Posted by: malpollyon | May 06, 2011 at 10:24 PM
I find it very strange that people refer to the wrist crutches as Canadian. I'm in Canada and have never seen the wrist ones, only the armpit ones. I would have loved to have wrist crutches when I broke my foot last year--I don't have enough upper body strength to be able to maneuver myself on armpit crutches for more than very short distances without being exhausted afterwards.
Posted by: kisekileia | May 07, 2011 at 12:30 AM
Also, about the language thing. I'm curious: do dyslexic people have difficulty with grammar when they speak? I just wonder because I don't understand how someone can be able to use correct grammar when they speak and yet be unable to use it in writing. Not being able to spell, or even generally being unable to use language well makes sense to me, although I can't identify with it at all--losing one's ability to phrase sentences correctly when one is writing rather than speaking them doesn't. It's something I'd like to understand better, so as to reduce my tendency to be a snob about correct language. I know that as someone with other disabilities it would be horrible to mistreat someone with dyslexia because I don't understand their disability, so I would like to understand it better.
Posted by: kisekileia | May 07, 2011 at 12:35 AM
@Kiskileia: the really short answer for the dyslexia question is that the speech center of the brain is distinct from the writtten center, and while both are part of the larger language structure, they don't entirely overlap. (thus, in some cases of aphasic damage, in the case of stroke or TBI, writing gets lost, but speech stays, or ASL can be learned as a work around. Some, I repeat. Brains are tricky. Language in brains, more so.)
I'm pretty sure that the Canadian crutch terminology is old; I picked it up from my great-grandmother some thirty years ago. As for getting them... I had to ask, and be willing to pay for them (but that's how USian medicine [fails to] work.). They still require a degree of upper body strength. I think the under-arm style might be cheaper, which explains their ubiquity for shorter term disability.
Posted by: CZEdwards | May 07, 2011 at 01:36 AM