There he was, on his bike about a block away. He was on the same sidewalk of the summer tree-lined street as I was. My eight-year old conscience told me it was wrong but I crossed the street to avoid him anyway. He was the only kid in town who rode a three wheeled bike and he was older than I was! And to my knowledge he was the only kid in town with a disability.
Back then persons with disabilities, or the retarded as was the common term of the day, were hidden mostly in institutions but in some instances as this one, within the family home. Bobby liked to ride his bike but I think his mom limited his street time as I did not see him out often. A few years later, his mom was my Girl Scout leader and held the meetings at their home, but we never saw Bobby. Even back then I had the feeling that was on purpose.
By the time I had my own son with a disability, thankfully, institutions were closing, laws had been passed, and attitudes were slowly changing to promote inclusion for all in society. I doubt there were any services, schools or supports for persons like Bobby born in the 1940’s. But my son, born in the 1980’s, had services available to him from the time a delay was evident. While my son went to both center based segregated school and public school, I doubt Bobby ever went to school.
Even with the new norms for society, like Bobby’s mom I have at times in the past limited my son’s exposure in some situations. We have been in situations where I could sense the uncomfort people were having with my son that reminded me of my own uncomfort with Bobby all those years ago. I guess we crossed the road so the uncomfortable ones would not have to. Thankfully it is not very often now.
I have since learned there were other families in our small town who at that time had with kids like Bobby, however, their parents took the advice of doctors and the other kids all lived in institutions. I too was given that advise, but like Bobby’s parents I choose to keep my son at home and in our community.