Helping is not a black and white thing

For those meals I need when my aide isn't around, we've worked out a system where Meredith sets up my food so that I can get "at it" without too much ado.

However, my cat seems to think it's his job to help when she's not around. This may sound like a heartwarming, Lassie kind of thing, but actually it's really more like a Laurel and Hardy film.

This morning I grabbed my quad reacher to open the refrigerator to pull out a breakfast item and my cat Buddy decided to help. He stood next to the shelf and began to work his paws near it, as if he could grab it. Unfortunately Buddy has no opposable thumbs, just big fluffy white paws, so all he managed to do was knock the item off the shelf as I said "It's ok, Buddy. I got it. Leave it alone -oops."

Buddy walked over to the food, sniffed it, then jumped into my lap crying. I had to console him because, of course, like any helper, it's important to give strokes. So I pet him and told him I most certainly did appreciate the assistance. Once he calmed down he jumped into his usual position to look out the window. 

I   rolled out to the living room to  drink my coffee and blog.

I read the NY Times. There was an article about a 67 year old psychologist who has devoted her practice to helping people with disabilities (including running an online group for parents of kids who are blind) who was viciously attacked recently resulting in serious injuries and now faces financial issues due to delays in crime victim compensation.  At the end of the article, she was asked if she could still listen to other peoples' problems, considering the magnitude of her own and she said she could because she realized that each person's problems were his/her own. 

She added that she hoped that those people would never have the bigger problems to put their own into context.

And all of this got me thinking about the helper dynamics that we all face every day, whether we are disabled or not. We all  make choices about who to help, asking for help, etc. Some spend their lives in the helper role, while others receive more help. Some who receive help help others back.  Having been on both ends, I find the helper role much more comfortable. As I'm sure this woman probably does.

Her days of helping are not over. In this article, she is still teaching people through her words, spoken in pain I'm sure.  Because, you see, helping is not a black and white thing. 

 For some reason we put people in roles. We put people with disabilities in a lot of roles around the issue of helping.  But we do it to everyone. This woman has helped folks her whole life, but is being treated by the crime victim compensation office as a charity case.  Those of us with disabilities know what that's like, huh? 

Actually in a community that's healthy, it would just be natural to extend a hand to her which you can do by clicking here -without casting her in any role. The crime victim compensation check would come in the mail, not be withheld under a mound of paperwork with a smug employee making a statement that payment depends on the cooperation of the victim. Oh please. Read her injuries and her efforts to get payment and tell me how much someone in her shoes is supposed to do.  Let's hope the folks who run that office never find themselves in her position either. 

Yes, her words teach. 

[visual description: A photo of a tuxedo cat, black face, white ruff, that looks like my cat Buddy.]