Showing posts with label geez whiz I didn't swear even once. Show all posts
Showing posts with label geez whiz I didn't swear even once. Show all posts

Thursday, March 27, 2014

A few thoughts on the DS-Connect registry.

There is a government registry of people with Down syndrome that purports to provide "an important resource to individuals with Down syndrome and their families," and to link "those seeking volunteers for their research studies with those who most stand to benefit from the research."

"Wow, great!" you might think, "What research?"

Well. At first glance the "Goals of NICHD Research on Down syndrome" seem to have some reasonable, important points: such as research into leukemia and heart disease as well as assessing real world access to healthcare. Incredibly important stuff, that. But.

But:
 
Even without picking apart the language as I'm wont to do and as is sorely needed in this textbook medical-model document, what is it that's really there? How many of these points center on something relating to cognitive function, or cognitive development?

From this document it emerges that there is no difference, diversity, or divergence in cognition, just cognition that is the issue in Down syndrome. Which is Down syndrome, while other stuff is co-morbid. Much effort and much emphasis is on research to do with affecting cognition or its development.

Here are a few examples of what's made it into mainstream and professional media about the current research efforts and Down syndrome (that isn't about prenatal detection of Ds):

IQ-Boosting Drugs Aim to Help Down Syndrome Kids Learn

Can Down Syndrome Be Treated?

People With Intellectual Disabilities Get a Say in Drug Trials

New Drugs May Transform Down Syndrome

A Drug for Down Syndrome

Yet, often the registry is sold - meaning that enrolling a child, or a dependent (I assume no effort has been made to make the process accessible for people with Down syndrome themselves, or at least I couldn't locate an accessible enrollment process on the site?) is strongly encouraged with talk of "improving" a person's quality of life - with research on Alzheimer's and dementia, heart defects, and leukemia, which are often issues that literally do diminish one's quality of life, unlike intellectual disability.

We all know that talk of cognitive research is a mine field still.

On one end of the continuum of thoughts on this debate, there are people who cannot understand why someone wouldn't want to have as 'typically developing', 'independent' and sometimes even as 'socially acceptable' a child as possible if they had the chance, and on the other end there are those who believe that their children are exactly who they were meant to be and wouldn't imagine doing anything that might alter what they understand as their kids' 'essence' in any way.

But it's not only about what the parents say and most definitely shouldn't be, perhaps at all (another post, on guardianship, coming soon). There are people with Down syndrome who say that they are proud of who they are just the way that they are and regardless of their perceived intellectual disability wouldn't want to change their cognition, and there are other people with Down syndrome who would like help in making their "brain better" (at least in the studies in this link, there's emphasis on listening to the actual participants and making sure they want to participate, and that they understand what they're participating in and why.)

The DS-Connect registry is sponsored by National Institutes of Health (NIH) which state that "In developing DS-Connect™, the NIH listened to information and expertise provided by families of people with Down syndrome, researchers who study Down syndrome, and other members of the public" (My emphasis).

If I had a genetic condition someone was creating a registry about, I'd want to have been offered the chance to be heard, not just those around me. But that's just me, I like to have a say in matters that directly affect me.

I can only speak for myself, and only hypothetically, since I don't actually have Down syndrome, or another genetic condition that there is a research registry about. But I do know that I wouldn't want to change my cognition. I like my cognition fine the way it is and yet basic math overwhelms me, something I don't mind especially or would want to change. Why would I? My inability to do basic math has worked and still constantly works to steer me to humanities. Something I wouldn't change for the world. It also allows for me to delegate every single task in our household involving calculations to my husband, and leaves waiters loving me when I accidentally tip them 60% if I don't use an app to calculate the tip.

Maybe I would feel differently if the world kept telling me that there was something wrong with my cognition, instead of helping me out when numbers overwhelm me? But wouldn't that mean that I should be getting angry at the world for telling me such lies instead of trying to make myself more tolerable to others, or instead of wanting to provide brain tissue samples so that researchers could study my difficulties with fractions in hopes of treating them?

Where do we draw the line between medical and social?

I don't know if my child would or will consent to being part of  the DS-Connect registry, and I can't know whether the data I might be able to view would be data collected after consensual participation by the person with Down syndrome. So that I, as a parent not involved in any kind of research, can view "similarities"?

This should not be a debate or a discussion of whether Down syndrome should or can be "treated" and whether that's something one supports as a course of action, this should be a discussion on what makes us think and believe that intellectual disability (so not leukemia, not heart defects, not celiac disease, not hypothyroidism) is a pathology that consists of impairments that should be done away with with different kinds of chemical and physical interventions to the greatest possible extent, instead of accommodating for differences in cognition, ability, and memory.

If we call them challenges, the narrative of overcoming is sure to tag along.

I'm not willing to compromise the kind of world we live in. I'm not willing to say "I'll take the trickle of good research efforts focusing on actual medical issues with the river of what is sold as suffering from mental deficits and lack of independence." I'm not willing to set aside my disgust at the rhetoric of "treating Down syndrome" and "improving" those with memory and cognitive deficits for what, if anything, might emerge about treating childhood leukemia, sleep apnea, or congenital heart defects.

Research efforts don't take place in a vacuum. They help shape people's perceptions, especially when they make the news. If we keep telling the world that we welcome "medical solutions" to this "problem of cognitive deficits" what are we really doing to people with Down syndrome? To acceptance? To inclusion? To equality? To civil rights and liberties?

What the research can all too easily imply and promote is that intellectual disability is a "medical problem" in need of a "fix", "treatment" or a "cure" instead of the result of a society that considers intellect, and alongside it a specific kind of independence, as inherently valuable as well as a necessity, with that specific kind of independence as proof thereof, for something like "adequate survival" in life. This is something that we need to think about, consider, and discuss. We need for people with Down syndrome to take the lead.

What exactly are we putting out there about Down syndrome, and about people with Down syndrome?

Maybe I am throwing the baby out with the bathwater and being unfair to my own child. That's a thought I'm definitely considering constantly as I muddle along on this path of parenthood. I want to look at this, as I do most things, from all angles, and I want to do right by my kid and others with Down syndrome. There's also the chance that I'm telling the world that "people with Ds count, and that we want more for them," by not buckling under the pressure to sign someone other than myself, who really should have her own say about this once she's able, up for something that just might end up reinforcing perceptions of her as a lesser being who should be treated, fixed, and improved or at least mitigated as soon as possible.

I'm not inciting a revolt against the registry, I'm simply telling you why I personally find it difficult to jump in head first, especially since I don't have my daughter's guidance on this just yet, into those murky waters that end up splashing all over mainstream news and thus greatly shape thinking and eventually the way that people with Down syndrome will be viewed in society, professionals and researchers included, and why I think the entire foundation of the registry, the process as well as the forces that brought it about need much further consideration. I am outlining my concerns in response to the, frankly rather ridiculing assumption that I'm either "overwhelmed" by paperwork, or that I find the registry "creepy" or "complicated" in some Big Pharma conspiracy-theory way, since I haven't signed my kid up yet.

I'm not denouncing the registry entirely either, I simply think that instead of our gushing support and guilting rhetoric to round up participants, it would be nice to see pressure placed on those consortium members who are, after all, the representatives of those at the center of this, individuals with Down syndrome. For them to keep listening to those they represent, and to actively constantly assess whether what's happening is in their representees' best interest, and how it will influence all areas of their everyday existence in society.

That's not something I've witnessed at this point. I sincerely hope I just haven't been looking hard enough.

Checks and balances aren't in place with the registry just yet. Fundamental concerns remain largely unaddressed. Certain efforts seem misplaced and misguided. I'd like to see more discussion about the basics, about the directions of research, about consent and need. About agency and voice. About people with Down syndrome, not about "families living with Down syndrome."

Here's a story you might find interesting (by which I mean horrifying): Forced sterilizations of "feebleminded" people were carried out in the US in hopes of eradicating said "feeblemindedness" and creating a kind of a super race. A public policy that was cited by Nazi doctors, in their defense, during the Nuremberg trials.

Are we still hung up on a super race, a member of which never needs assistance with anything? Just not actually using the words super or race, but independence, intellect, and productivity instead? Where does medical stop and social begin and vice versa?

Friday, March 21, 2014

#WDSD14

Today is World Down Syndrome Day.

Today is not about creating or spreading awareness (FYI, not really about awareness, like, ever, yo), not even really about acceptance (although every single day should be about active acceptance, so there's that. Heh).

Today is about celebration, about pride, about culture, about rights.

About the kind of celebration of difference that doesn't try to see past or beyond the disability by ignoring it completely or by only searching for similarities, but the kind that views it as an accepted part, sometimes a defining one if the disabled person so chooses herself, of a person. The kind of celebration  that acknowledges and respects a disability, like it acknowledges and respects someone's race, sexual orientation, and chosen gender. The kind of celebration that embraces how a person chooses to define herself.

A celebration of taking PRIDE in one's self. All of one's self.

Today is not about how regular we all are - and we are, most of us anyway, I and my daughter included - but about enjoying life, and having access to learning and community. What these self advocates speak of in this clip:



Today is about access to healthcare and not having one's health concerns brushed aside with "We often see this in Down syndrome." What this clip speaks of:



Today is not about my kid being the best advocate for acceptance, meaningful inclusion, and equality for people with Down syndrome just by living her life or some such esoteric babble (Another FYI, it never is, she's not your campaign until, if ever, she wants to be), or about us as "a family affected by Down syndrome" (Yup, you guessed it: never is), or how our life looks or is, or, deep sigh, about "advertising" for Down syndrome to stall abortions or something, another deep sigh. Nope.

Today, or any day really but you know what I mean, is about recognizing, talking about, accepting, celebrating, and accommodating for Down syndrome. Today is about people with Down syndrome.

"I have Down syndrome, and I am proud of who I am," say the self advocates on the first clip. Not a single eyebrow should be raised, not a single scoff heard. This should not be, and isn't, a radical idea.

I want my daughter to be able to say "I'm proud to have Down syndrome."

That's what World Down Syndrome Day is about.

Mother Nature thinks so too and gives Down syndrome two thumbs up:



One final thought, because it's eating me up. The same one I had last year also so maybe I should scream it today?

WHAT DO FUNKY SOCKS HAVE TO DO WITH DOWN SYNDROME? WHAT? WHAT IN THE...? WHY...? Can we have a reasonable explanation, and can someone reassure me that regardless of all evidence, associating strange socks with Down syndrome isn't counterproductive to acceptance after all, please? And why does supporting this absolute incongruence seem to cost money? Anyone? No, really, ANYONE?

Thought so.

I'll see your socks and raise you pride. For free. How's that for a good start to a celebration?

Monday, April 16, 2012

Words matter

There is a preferred language guide to talking about Down syndrome. Please check it out and if you're not already complying, please change the way you speak. Thanks.

It might not be (and isn't) a big deal to you, but many of us parents of children with Ds really care.

Our kids are kids first, and that extra chromosome is only a tiny part of them. They're all unique individuals with distinct personalities and life paths. In reality, there is no 'them', there are just children.

No one told Hoda and Kathie Lee on the Today Show though. Ugh. Not even the person they were interviewing who is billing herself as a kind of a spokesperson for the Ds community (although, she certainly does not speak for the Babe). Unfortunately. But she has a book and stuff to flog, so why would she make waves?

Because words matter.

You can't, and definitely shouldn't, always give people 'the benefit of the doubt', or let things slide because you believe that their 'intentions' are good, or that their 'heart is in the right place' (let's face it, often that place is pity, which is not right, or needed). Someone wrote on a Ds forum I read that a nurse actually compared her child to a loyal dog. While I understand that not all people are as explosive as me, that would have sent me through the roof and on one of those verbal rampages I usually reserve for airlines and people not in the position to spit in my coffee (wait staff tends to be safe, that is). Just because the person's intentions are not mean, it doesn't mean that they are not drawing from a damaging stereotype and shouldn't be made aware of this and educated.

Everyone can always use a little more (or better and more correct) education. Myself included. And most definitely a philosopher from Roskilde University who apparently believes that the Danish society's resources should go to 'children who can be the best possible children.'

WTF and OMG combined.

Too bad the Danish society's resources went to educating someone who clearly is not educated enough to know that while he may understand Aristotle, he is sorely lacking as far as defining 'best possible' goes. I'd extend an invitation to him to come and see just how perfect the Babe is, but he's from Roskilde University and having attended said university for a year (before promptly transferring to Copenhagen University for an education), I don't think he'd be open to debate that's not just debate for the sake of debating, and I can imagine why he might have felt he could speak on something he has no knowledge of. On the national radio.

According to him, people with Ds have shorter lives and therefore it's understandable that people choose to not bring a baby with Ds into the world. Really? Is this now the measure of worth? The potential length of one's life? What about those kids who turn into rapists, murderers, and reality stars? Maybe it's just me, but I haven't heard of that many people with Ds who that has happened to, so him only pitting a person's with Ds (or an alcoholic's, cancer-victim's, smoker's, where do we draw the line?) 50 years (very, very antiquated information) against a potential rapist's or anyone's 100 (Really? Everyone who doesn't have Ds lives that long now?) just shows that the issue is a tad - understatement of the year - more complex than how he frames it.

Words matter.

These arbitrary little sounds (or squiggles) we use for the best thing being human has to offer - communication with others. Nuanced interaction. Humor. Affection. Sarcasm. Admiration. Snark. Respect. Disgust. Advocacy. Compassion.

Keeping stereotypes alive and well.

Or tearing the world a new one so that our children (yes, all of them, even the ones with only 46 chromosomes) can exist in it as equals, or at least make their own worth without having nasty generalizations impeding them.

While not many will ever question a verbal rampage of mine when the stereotype is 'negative' (overweight, stubborn, slow) the 'positive' ones (always happy, content, mellow) are just as damaging in my opinion, and those are the ones we ought to kill with kind, educational words.

Because words matter in my child's existence.

My child is just that - my one and only, unique child. A little person with a very much her own thing going on.

My child is not a gift because of an extra chromosome. She is not a blessing because when she was conceived an extra chromosome tagged along.

She is special to the Viking and I because we made her. Intentionally. And then chose to keep her gestating.

She is not 'a Down's baby', and she most certainly is not 'Down syndrome' or 'a Down'.

She has Down syndrome, but she also has orange-y hair, fingernails that chip easily, a cute nose, constipation when she eats too much banana, a good smell, a persisting bald spot where I unwisely hacked off a lock of her hair for her 'This is Me' book, a love for water, an utterly disarming smile, the cutest belly button, and a normal life.

Not typical, but for sure normal. And just frikken perfect for us.


I know. No need to say it twice. I'm frikken PURR-FECT. Yup.

But don't just believe me, I'm just a parent of a cooing-babbling baby, believe adults with disabilities.

People First

Self Advocates Becoming Empowered (look under the statement on the 'R' word)


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Now also bloghopping with Jen from Down with Dat: