I am at a convention called BlogHer. There are 4,000 bloggers here with me. I feel very small and I have so much to learn.
One of this morning’s speakers talked about how connecting with a community of bloggers and with her own readers helped her come to terms with her son’s autism diagnosis. Another keynote speaker, Jenny Lawson – The Bloggess and author of the book Let’s Pretend This Never Happened, spoke about the response she received when she shared with them that she has a mental health diagnosis. Her readers responded with thousands of comments that shared the refrain, “I thought I was alone.” She has emails from people who told her they were on the verge of suicide and read her blog post, and the comments left by the community of people who also have a mental health diagnosis, and decided not to end their lives.
This huge conference has attracted speakers, vendors, panelists and writers of every variety. The event organizers had their pick of keynote speakers, as this conference has brought together women from around the world who blog about an array of subjects.
I wondered, as I listened, if they intentionally chose women who have had experiences with “disability.”
And then I remembered Abbey’s words to me and realized it wasn’t a coincidence that these two keynote speakers would reference issues that millions of people live with.
Abbey is 14 now but when she was 12, she said the most impactful thing that anyone has ever said to me in my life. Abbey has cerebral palsy and knew about my son, Austin’s, struggle with addiction.
Any time he was away at an alternative school or residential treatment program, she asked for updates on his progress. And so while he was in Atlanta, at what would turn out to be his final treatment program, as he is well into his second year of sobriety, Abbey asked me how he was doing.
I told her that he was doing great and that we thought he might finally be ready for real recovery.
“I’m so excited!!! I’ve been thinking about Austin a lot lately and thinking about him has made me realize something.”
I listened, and she continued:
“Miss Debra, we all have special needs … and we all have two special needs in common:
We all have the need to be loved, and we all have the need to be accepted.“
And then she said, “Some people’s special needs are on the outside, like mine. And some people’s special needs are on the inside, like Austin’s.”
I took such comfort from these words, spoken to me by a 12-year-old girl who will never be able to tie her own shoes or walk without difficulty.
It was not a coincidence that two of this morning’s speakers have been affected by a diagnosis. Because Abbey was right – everyone has special needs of one sort or another. Some people’s are just easier to recognize than others.
I’m going to soak up everything I can from this conference … so I can be a better writer and a better advocate for the people with special needs that I know and love.
More importantly, I hope to learn how to use this blog platform as a springboard for spreading Abbey’s message of acceptance, of tolerance, of recognizing that we are all more alike than we are different.