"It's not in our budget," religious leaders will say to the wheelchair user who can't fit into a bathroom stall. Or, "We can't make that alteration just for you."

Budget constraints are real, but too often, enabling greater access to people with disabilities simply isn't a priority. At 15% of the world's population, disabled folks are considered the "world's largest minority," according to the World Health Organization.

Once a religious group decides to address disability access, however, it'll find that there's no one-size-fits-all approach.

"Accessibility is a really broad category and means a lot of different things for different people," explained Rabbi Julia Watts Belser, longtime disability justice advocate and associate professor of Jewish studies at Georgetown.

"I myself am a wheelchair user, and I have certain foundational needs and accessibility aspirations, things that make me feel welcome in a place. But those needs, if you were in conversation with somebody who had a cognitive disability, or someone who is deaf, blind or autistic, their accessibility needs are really different."

Though there's no comprehensive checklist, there are plenty of ways to make churches, synagogues and mosques more welcoming spaces.

Religion News Service spoke with disability leaders, scholars and activists to highlight their suggestions about how to make religious places more accessible.

Broaden your leadership

Who is making decisions about community programs, building updates and funds?

If the answer doesn't include someone with a disability, then odds are accessibility is being overlooked.

"Part of the reason why churches have for the most part become unintentionally exclusive is because when they're constructing ideas of what church should look like, they never include disabled people," Lamar Hardwick, author of "Disability and the Church" and pastor at Tri-Cities Church in East Point, Georgia, told RNS.

"And so naturally, you're going to continue to create spaces that don't include them because you don't have their voices at the table."

Check your minbar/bimah/pulpit

Ramps and elevators are great. But congregations should also consider ensuring that people can access podiums, lecterns and pulpits.

"Even in communities that have prioritized wheelchair access, there's often an implicit assumption that the wheelchair users are in the pews, not leading the prayers," said Watts Belser.

Watch your language

Equating blindness or deafness with sin can be both alienating and offensive.

"At my temple, we chant probably one to three hours a day. And I can tell you that there's ableist language everywhere," said Georgia Kashnig, a doctoral student at Georgetown University and a Buddhist practitioner.

"What we chant in the morning says something like, ‘She cures those who are blind.' It basically uses the language of blindness to talk about delusion and lack of spiritual awakening."

Take care to assess language for insensitivity to people with disabilities and be receptive when discriminatory language is pointed out.

Don't pray without permission

As the title of Shakespeare scholar Amy Kenny's new book "My Body Is Not a Prayer Request" indicates, disabled people — especially those with physical disabilities — are often the unwilling recipients of prayers asking God to eliminate their disability.

While some disabled folks might seek prayers for healing, it's never appropriate to assume. Plenty of people in disability communities see their disability as something to be celebrated, not cured.

"Unsolicited prayers come from a place of wanting to erase disability altogether. And I think that they fail to recognize that disabled people are at the forefront of the work that God is doing in and with humanity throughout Scripture," Kenny told RNS.

Don't point. Post signs and accompany

Hardwick, who is known online as the "Autism Pastor," told RNS good signage can be a huge help to those who are neurodivergent.

"It's anxiety-provoking when you go to a facility where you don't know where everything is, and people are telling you instead of taking you."

Hardwick added that worship spaces should also train volunteers to accompany people to where they're headed, rather than just giving directions or pointing.

Provide multiple ways to pray

Worship is enhanced when a congregation embraces multiple modes of connecting with God, says Bethany McKinney Fox, founding leader of Beloved Everybody, a Los Angeles community for people with and without intellectual disabilities.

Offering multiple ways to pray, or reflect, or engage scripture empowers participants to worship in a way that is meaningful for them.

"Create space for more embodied forms of expression, space for more emotional connections, space for different creative and artistic expressions," said McKinney Fox.

Keep remote worship

Zoom and Facebook Live have made this easier than ever, but Watts Belser notes that religious groups shouldn't go on autopilot when it comes to remote options.

"Some of the most meaningful forms of remote access allow people to participate fully and to engage in meaningful ways, rather than just defaulting to a lackluster livestream,"

Watts Belser wrote to RNS. "It's great to plan for multiple modes of access, because it recognizes the diversity of people's needs and desires."

Consider communication

Depending on their disability, folks might rely on closed captioning, sign language interpreters, audio recordings or large-print text to receive information.

Noor Pervez, a community organizer and accessibility director for Masjid al-Rabia, a mosque and Islamic community center in Chicago, told RNS that religious groups should use plain language and "easy read" materials.

"People with intellectual and developmental disabilities can't easily participate if you're not giving us the dignity of giving us equal access to what you're talking about," said Pervez.

"This also has cross-cutting effects of benefitting people learning the language being spoken, or who haven't had access to as much formal education."

Lean into teachings about inclusion

Once a religious group decides to address disability access, however, it'll find that there's no one-size-fits-all approach.Rabia Khedr, CEO of DEEN Support Services, a Canadian disability support organization founded by disabled Muslims, says many religions, including Islam, already account for the needs of disabled people, but adherents often don't apply their own religious teachings on inclusion to disabled members.

Kenny agreed, saying many people don't really understand the needs of the disabled. "Ableism is in so many of our systems and structures and communities, but it's really difficult to even get people to recognize where there is ableism, let alone change the culture to allow for greater accessibility."

Keep at it

Disability activists say the work of disability justice isn't just for disability awareness month (March) or disability pride month (July). It's a constant effort that should become integrated into the life of your community. Says Hardwick: "Make it part of the ethos of your church so it erodes the stigma and is something that is talked about often."

• Kathryn Post is an author at Religion News Service.
• First published in RNS. Republished with permission.

It's not that she has anything against prayer.

Kenny, a Shakespeare scholar and lecturer at the University of California, Riverside who is disabled, would simply like other Christians to quit treating her body as defective.

"To suggest that I am anything less than sanctified and redeemed is to suppress the image of God in my disabled body and to limit how God is already at work through my life," Kenny writes in her new book, "My Body Is Not a Prayer Request."

The book invites readers to consider how ableism is baked into their everyday assumptions and imagines a world — and a church — where the needs of disabled people aren't ignored or tolerated but are given their rightful place at the centre of conversations.

Kenny combines humour and personal anecdotes with biblical reflections to show how disabilities, far from being a failure of nature or the Divine, point to God's vastness.

She reframes often overlooked stories about disability in Scripture, from Jacob's limp to Jesus' post-crucifixion scars. Abolishing ableism, she concludes, benefits disabled and non-disabled people alike.

Religion News Service spoke to Kenny about making the church what she calls a "crip space," her belief in a disabled God and why she prefers Good Friday over Easter. This interview has been edited for length and clarity.

At what point did you begin seeing your disability as a blessing?

I was told often by doctors that my spine and my leg and my body was crooked.

I began seeing how crooked and jagged creation is, the way elm trees have snaking branches and maple leaves are ragged and kangaroos don't walk but hop.

I didn't have any trouble thinking about those elements as beautiful and divine. Yet when applied to humans, disability was thought of as dangerous and sinful.

That just didn't make sense to me.

So based on the idea that creation is delightfully crooked, I started to think about how my body, too, is made in the image of the Divine and its crookedness isn't anything to be ashamed of.

Can you explain the difference between curing and healing?

I think of curing as a physical process, usually a pretty rapid one — in Western society, going to the doctor and wanting a fix for whatever illness you are experiencing.

Healing is much richer than that.

It's deeper.

Healing is messy and complex. It takes time. It's about restoring someone to communal wellness.

What is "crip space" and what does it look like in the context of a church?

Crip space is a disability community term that is reclaiming what has been used as a derogatory slur against us, cripple, as a way of gaining disability pride.

It's saying that we are not ashamed to be disabled, that our body-minds are not embarrassments.

Crip space puts those who are most marginalized at the centre and follows their lead. So folks who are queer, black, disabled people.

Generally, churches want a checklist or a list of don'ts.

It's much more nuanced and human than that.

It's noticing that there's no ramp to the building you're in or no sensory spaces for people to take a break.

It's noticing that the language of the songs or the sermon is ableist and changing those words.

It's recognizing when the community is missing disabled folks.

I've often had that as an excuse: "We don't have any other disabled people but you."

Well, I wonder if that's related to your lack of accessibility.

Could you share why you use the term body-minds?

It's a disability community term that is attempting to undo some of that mind/body dualism. And it's asking for us to think about how our bodies and our minds work in concert with one another.

It's also a way of being inclusive, making sure that when we talk about disability, we're not just talking about mobility issues. We're not just talking about visible disabilities.

We're also talking about hidden disabilities.

Some churches claim they just can't afford to make their buildings accessible. What's your response to that?

This one cuts deep because often the people making that excuse do so in spaces that have prioritized spending money on other things.

There will be doughnuts, coffee carts, different types of sound equipment and lights. I'm not against those things, but they suggest you're prioritizing the aesthetic over including image-bearers in your service.

It also is suggesting that church services don't evolve.

How does Scripture talk about disabilities?

In one of my favourite passages, Jacob wrestles with God or an angel and comes away with a healing limp and a blessing.

The limp is often read as a reprimand for questioning God, but Jacob talks about it as God being gracious.

It's one of the transformative moments that allows Jacob to witness his brother Esau as an image bearer and to begin creating a sense of interdependency, rather than hustling to prove his self-worth through lies and schemes and the accumulation of goods.

There are so many myths of ableism wrapped up in that.

We still see today people hustling to prove they are worthy of love and care.

Instead, that passage demonstrates that through disability, Jacob is able to create a sense of co-flourishing with his brother and with the community.

The New Testament shows Jesus curing people with disabilities. How should Christians read these passages traditionally interpreted to mean disability is something to be fixed?

The ninth chapter of the Gospel of John is helpful here.

It's the story of when disciples are asking Jesus if the man who is born blind has sinned or if his parents sinned. And Jesus says neither — this is so God's works can be revealed.

People usually make this passage about the miraculous moment, but that's not exactly what Jesus says.

The story itself is about this larger healing that's being offered that should restore people into a sense of communal wellness.

I wonder how our faith communities would look if we were able to understand disability as a way of revealing the living God.

You warn that, taken too far, celebrating disability can become a kind of prosperity gospel. How so?

This connects to inspiration porn — the idea, which comes from (disabled comedians and actors) Stella Young and Maysoon Zayid, that disabled people are nondisabled people's inspiration.

It's porn because it's consumptive, and it turns disabled people into an object.

When we turn disabled people into inspirations, we're reducing that person into a feel-good commercial and often assuming we don't have to meet their access needs.

Both the prosperity gospel and inspiration porn fail to make space for the complexity of what it means to be embodied.

The prosperity gospel promises that we all get a perfect life that is successful. Inspiration porn doesn't allow for disabled people having tough days, or being frustrated at the ableism that we're facing.

You say you prefer Good Friday over Easter. Why is the day meaningful to you?

I relate to that Jesus of Good Friday.

Jesus on the cross is disabled in both a physical and a social sense.

A lot of times we focus too much on Resurrection Sunday or Easter, wanting to spiritually bypass the painful and hard parts of a faithful life and quickly move into the triumphalism of resurrection.

I also really relate to the abandonment on Good Friday.

I've definitely felt abandoned by churches I've been a part of and my friends that I've had within those churches who, from my perspective, didn't care enough about disability to be willing to grow and learn together.

How does viewing God as disabled impact our understanding of who God is and our understanding of the world?

It reminds me that the ableism I have experienced doesn't need to continue.

It brings a sense of empowerment to think about God as described in (the biblical books of) Daniel and Ezekiel, as sitting on a throne with wheels.

That sounds a lot like my wheelchair — it's a shimmery, fiery, turquoise wheelchair like the one that I get around in.

On days when people attempt to pray me away or attempt to cure my disabled body, it reminds me that my disabled body is made in the image of the Divine.

• Kathryn Post is an author at Religion News Service.
• First published in RNS. Republished with permission.

I spoke those words in 2009, in a casual conversation with other inclusive ministry leaders about what it might look like for churches to be truly accessible to disabled people.

I wasn't opposed to online church at the time. I simply couldn't imagine how to make it work.

The ideal model, we were convinced, would be a hybrid church, building online communities linked with traditional in-person churches, so attendance could be fluid and connections built-in ways that included people of all ages, abilities and availability to be present in the same space as the church building.

Well-equipped megachurches with large budgets already had the technical abilities to stream services and host online discussion groups.

Most churches were and still are small and faithful, though, with resources more limited.

To implement a hybrid model, we knew we would need a system of training, funding and support.

We lacked all three.

But even if we had the money, time and expertise to do it all, we would need buy-in.

We needed leaders to believe disabled people deserved to be fully included in the church, as people like anyone else rather than as service projects to pity, perpetual children to patronize, or pets to pat on the head.

At that time, every American church with a robust inclusive ministry had one thing in common: The pastor had a child or a grandchild diagnosed with a disability.

Churches didn't change to become welcoming unless leaders loved one specific disabled person first. I didn't know what it would take for more churches to say yes to even considering inclusive online services.

A decade later, COVID-19 proved to be the catalyst for such change.

Churches began shifting to online models en masse, to keep people safe from a deadly virus.

As weeks passed and we could see that this new normal wasn't leaving anytime soon, church leaders began moving their faith communities online.

Disabled people who had begged for more accessible models of ministry, who had been told online church wasn't possible, watched as their requested accommodations became realities.

While we were excited to finally be able to engage with our churches through new programs, our pain was undeniable.

Jesus tells a parable, recorded in Luke 15 and Matthew 18, known as the parable of the lost sheep.

In it, a shepherd has 100 sheep and one goes missing. The good shepherd goes after the one lost sheep and brings it back to the other 99 with a spirit of joy and celebration. But is that a cute story we read like pure fiction, or do we believe it?

Consider, for a moment, that the story is one disabled person and 99 abled people, and instead of a field, the setting is a church.

When one needed to be able to participate in the community of believers from home or a hospital using technology, we in the church stuck with the 99.

Those virtual church options that were called impossible for the one became possible when COVID-19 safety measures, like not meeting in person, were necessary for the remaining 99 as well.

The accommodation was never impossible for the one.

We made a choice that the 99 abled people were worthy of such an option becoming available, which revealed what we believed about the one disabled person: They alone were not worthy, not in how church worked prior to the pandemic.

Now, as churches reopen their in-person services, the inclusive hybrid model can finally work, right?

Yes, but some people don't want it that way.

Recently, Tish Harrison Warren, a priest in the conservative sect of Anglican churches and an opinion writer for The New York Times, argued for the end of online church, even though she acknowledged the practice would re-marginalize some members who have been included by online worship connection.

As for whether or not online church should be an option, it already is and it's not going away.

The logistics of Communion practices, for example, are worthy of consideration and planning, but let's consider and plan those.

Should online church happen?

No matter your answer, it is happening.

This debate extends to how we classify relationships as well; is a person you only know online a friend, or does friendship require physical proximity?

Communal embodied experiences within friendships or worship don't require physical proximity.

Conversely, I have been physically present in church services without anything being embodied beyond the most superficial appearance.

My personal preference will always include in-person engagement with the people I call my church, usually in the building we also call church.

I understand other people have their own preferences, and I see no benefit in weighing whose disabilities or circumstances justify each choice.

As with other accommodations for disabled people, abled people will benefit as well: Shift workers and single parents and displaced individuals, be it by choice or necessity, can all benefit from worship models including online possibilities.

According to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, 26% of adults are disabled.

One in 10 adults age 18 and older — and double that for those 65 and older — have a disability that impacts one or more areas of functioning enough to require support from others.

We know COVID-19 disproportionately harms people with medical vulnerabilities, and some people who need to stay home to avoid COVID also stay home for part or all of flu season, in addition to hospitalizations, surgeries, sleep disorders and other circumstances preventing church attendance.

The most important fact we keep overlooking in these debates, though, is that disabled people are more likely to have those conditions that make COVID-19 the riskiest: three times more likely to have heart disease, twice as likely to have diabetes and the most likely to be immunodeficient by nature or due to medications.

Relatedly, disabled people experience higher rates of poverty, less stable employment and lower rates of both driving and having access to a vehicle to drive than abled people do — all of which hinder church attendance as well.

Given those statistics, we aren't talking about one lost sheep but more like 10 or 20 lost out of every 100.

With online church, disabled people — including me and my family — were welcomed to church in more ways and more often than ever before.

Let's keep that up rather than shouting, "Hey, Jesus, we're gonna take that one you brought back and throw them to the elements and predators! We're going back to the way it was."

We have the framework in place to continue to welcome disabled people who worship from home, even as in-person services become safer.

The choice is easy. Keep welcoming us.

• Shannon Dingle is a Christian writer and activist.
• First published in RNS. Republished with permission. The views expressed in this commentary do not necessarily represent those of Religion News Service.

That was the message from the 2018 Social Justice Week Workshop held last Saturday at St Thomas More Parish Church in Mt. Maunganui.

Caritas Aotearoa New Zealand and the Catholic Diocese of Hamilton facilitated the workshop to highlight the challenges faced by people with disabilities and to foster greater awareness and inclusion.

Imagine Better, an organisation which supports people with disabilities was also a key contributor to the workshop.

It was the first of five planned workshops.

The others will take place in Taupo, Hamilton, Palmerston North and Wellington during August.

They are part of the preparation or this year' s Social Just Week.

Each year the Catholic Bishops of New Zealand set aside a week in September for Social Justice Week, inviting New Zealanders to reflect and take action on a current social justice issue.

This year, the 9th to the 15th of September, Caritas Aotearoa New Zeland will focus on disability and participation.

It will ask people to respond to the question "How can we encourage more enabling communities, affirming that everyone has a part to play in our society?"

Further Workshops

• Saturday, August 11th, 10am-3pm at St Patrick's Catholic Church Hall, 88 Acacia Bay Rd, Nukuhau, Taupo.
• Sunday, August 12th, 11.30am-5pm, at the Cathedral of the Blessed Virgin Mary Church Hall, 494 Grey St, Hamilton.
• Saturday, August 18th, 10 am - 3 pm, St Francis Xavier School Hall, 69 Main Rd, Tawa.
• Saturday, August 25th, The Palmerston North Diocesan Centre, 33 Amesbury St, Palmerston North.

Entry to the workshops is free, a koha would be appreciated, lunch is included, and all are welcome! NZSL interpreters will be available.

For further information click here

Source

• Supplied: Caritas Aotearoa New Zealand
• caritas.org.nz
• Image: caritas.org.nz

They say they weren't consulted about the storyline which is described as reflecting outdated thinking and failing to represent an inclusive society.

Association spokesperson Kim Porthouse said the organisation has received calls from a number of families and people with Down syndrome who have been upset by the episodes.

She said people who are either going through this process right now, people with Down syndrome who watched the programme, parents of children with Down syndrome are finding this aggressive forceful reaction quite inappropriate and offensive.

Porthouse said the storyline "reinforces a lot of the prejudice that having a child with Down syndrome is a burden."

In the storyline, after learning a baby might have Down syndrome father Chris Warner suggested to mother, Zoe, that she abort the pregnancy

Several characters discuss Zoe's options with her.

Her Sister Kate advocates for Zoe making her own choices.

Finn, Warner's adult son also stresses the choice is hers and that she will have support no matter what options she chooses.

But he points out "there's thousands of stories out there, mums and dads who have been exactly where you are and they've kept their baby."

In a joint statement, TVNZ and South Pacific Pictures said they acknowledge the storyline addresses a sensitive topic but Shortland Street is known for tackling a range of challenging issues that New Zealanders face.

"The show's producers work closely with medical advisors to ensure health storylines are depicted with care in the context of a drama"

Source

• radionz.co.nz
• nzherald.co.nz
• Image: TVNZ Screenshot

"It is readily apparent that the scope is unclear and misunderstood," said Paula Tesoriero.

Paula Tesoriero published a scathing assessment of David Seymour's End of Life Choice Bill earlier this year and did not ease off during the first public submissions in a parliamentary select committee on Monday.

She said the Bill's drafting could lead to serious unintended consequences that would fall disproportionately on disabled Kiwis.

Tesoriero said it ran the risk of unjustly including people with disabilities who don't need to end their lives.

The Commissioner told the committee she was especially concerned by the potential inclusion of non-terminal conditions by reference to a "grievous or irremediable terminal condition."

It was unclear whether illnesses like muscular dystrophy, multiple sclerosis or a declining medical condition were included or excluded from the legislation.

National MP Chris Bishop asked if Tesoriero believed assisted dying would always discriminate against disabled people or whether her objection was limited to this particular bill.

Tesoriero replied that in "certain circumstances" a framework might exist for terminal illness with adequate safeguards, but moving beyond the terminally ill was more fraught.

"We have not found a jurisdiction or a framework that would suggest the safeguards could be safe," she said.

The bill's sponsor ACT leader David Seymour said he was deeply disappointed that Ms Tesoriero was "spreading misinformation" as intellectually disabled people did not qualify under the bill.

"It's very ironic that the Disabilities Commissioner of all people would be saying that a person who's perfectly capable of making a decision ... should have fewer rights and choices than other people."

Source

• newsroom.co.nz
• radionz.co.nz
• Image: newsroom.co.nz

Disability Rights Commissioner Paula Tesoriero says David Seymour's private member's the End of Life Choice Bill, which was currently before the Justice Select Committee, undermined years of work to change perceptions of disabled people and posed significant risks to them.

Tesoriero said much of the discussion so far has centred around the Bill allowing people with a terminal illness to end their life on their own terms.

"Before we start talking about how disabled people can end their lives, we should be talking about how they can be supported to live their lives to their fullest potential," she said.

Her key recommendations in regard to the Bill are:

• The Bill should not be passed into law in its current form
• The process and proposed safeguards outlined in the Bill are inadequate
• The Bill does not protect the interests of disabled and vulnerable members of the community
• It contains insufficient provisions and protections around the provision of appropriate information, informed consent, assessing capacity, and determining if undue influence or coercion exist
• There was also no "cooling off" period
• The oversight and approval mechanisms are inadequate

"It's my role to reflect the concerns of the disability community and what I am hearing is that there are significant concerns about this Bill, particularly the inclusion of grievous and irremediable (but non-terminal) medical conditions," Tesoriero said.

Kylee Black has already had end-of-life conversations with doctors.

The 31-year-old suffers from Ehlers Danlos Syndrome [EDS], a genetic connective-tissue disorder that is progressive and incurable.

Of greatest alarm to Black and the disability sector is the inclusion in the Bill of people with grievous and irremediable medical conditions.

Black is not alone when she says this term is ambiguous and vague, and opens disabled people up to pressure and even coercion to end their lives early.

"We have been in dark places, and I know for myself there is a high chance that I would not be here today if euthanasia was legalised earlier in my journey," she said.

Source

• nzherald.co.nz
• stuff.co.nz
• nzherald.co.nz
• Image: HRC

They were babies with severe disabilities, abandoned at a few months old, with no trace of the family who left them behind.

China's one-child policy was not enforced in the rural countryside, like here in Hebei province, where families continued to have an average of three or four children.

"These are very poor families, and these parents have a lot of pressure, not only for taking care of the disabled kids, but also taking care of many other children," said Sister Niu Chun Mi, director of the Gaoyi Therapy Center for the Liming Family.

The Liming Family is the primary ministry for the St. Therese of the Child Jesus Sisters, known locally as the St. Therese of the Little Flower Sisters.

The Liming (House of Dawn) Family is a group of three institutions that serve children and adults with severe mental and physical disabilities.

"Parents began abandoning these children in front of the door to the church, and the bishop asked the sisters to take care of them," recalled Sister Xeufen Zhang.

Sister Xeufen was one of the original 10 founders of the St. Therese sisters in 1988.

"In the beginning, we kept the orphans in the same house as us, and we slept together, and we ate together," said Xeufen.

"Before I entered the community, I thought that sisters live in a house with a big wall and pray all day. When I entered, I saw that a sister's life was very different.

"We needed to build the house ourselves, brick by brick. We needed to take care of these orphans and students. I didn't choose to be a mother, but suddenly I needed to be a mother and a father, too." Continue reading

Sources

• Global Sisters Report article by Melanie Lidman, a freelance journalist in Israel.
• Image: Crux

The Maihiihi School principal, Glenn MacPherson, snuck a gift wrapped parcel and a letter into student Cam Uden's school bag last Tuesday.

His dad, Jason Uden, discovered it and shared the letter on Twitter as a show of thanks. Read the letter

New government data indicate while four unborn babies were aborted in 2011 because they had cleft palates, 11 were killed in the womb for the same reason in 2015.

Pro-life parliamentarian Lord David Alton said, "Aborting a baby with a cleft palate should be unconscionable.

"For the law to allow this up to birth should be unthinkable."

Added MP Fiona Bruce, chair of the All-Party Parliamentary Pro-Life Group: "It is deeply disturbing if these figures reflect a worrying trend in society to disproportionately value the physically perfect and beautiful."

But there is more at work here than parental reluctance to bear children with cleft palates.

The Cleft Lip and Palate Association (CLAPA), a firm opponent of aborting unborn children with this condition, nonetheless details on its website many kinds of surgery a child might need before his or her first year to correct the condition, as well as speech therapy and other treatment for hearing problems for years thereafter.

CLAPA began offering funding in 2003 to encourage parents to bear their children with cleft lips or palates, and executive director Gareth Davies said at the time, "We do not consider a cleft to be a major disability.

"We believe that if the general public had a greater knowledge of the condition, the option of termination might not be considered."

Because the number of abortions in the United Kingdom annually approach 200,000, some consider the increase in cleft palate abortions insignificant.

In commenting on the Daily Mail story, "David" of Reading said, "There are over 190,000 abortions a year.

Statistically speaking, the change of four a year to 11 a year over four years, for a group of this size, is completely meaningless.

"However, the numbers for cleft palate abortions is the tip of a grimmer iceberg representing thousands of babies aborted because of disabilities, especially those with Down syndrome."

As the Daily Mail reports, "It is thought that increased access to tests that diagnose the condition in the womb are behind a rise in the number of parents choosing to end pregnancies."

Source

• Lifesitenews
• Image: www.stlouischildren.org

We never planned it that way, and for personal reasons we do not intend to fight what we see as an invidious decision with far-reaching consequences, posing questions that go to the very heart of what constitutes a just and caring society.

When I saw in the New Zealand Herald of 31 January an article about Juliana Carvalho - who has been denied residency because she is in a wheelchair, despite the fact that she works here and has all her family here - I contacted her.

She put me in touch with the journalist Regan Schoultz, who published our story in the Herald on 14 February. Her article has provoked a huge reaction, not only on social media in New Zealand but also abroad.

Immigration New Zealand rejected our residency application on the grounds that my stepson Peter does not have the required health standards. We decided not to appeal as we chose to move forward for the good of our family.

Peter is autistic and is going through a difficult time. His condition got worse while our application was still pending, and he then required special care.

This type of care is nonexistent in New Zealand, so we have been obliged to take him back to Belgium - I had moved to Auckland from a Belgian university four years ago.

Since then we have had to travel a great deal to see him, creating a difficult situation for our family. By going back to Brussels, we will all be reunited, and I am very lucky to get back an excellent position at the Université Libre de Bruxelles. Continue reading

• Dimitri Leemans is associate professor of mathematics at the University of Auckland and professor of mathematics (on leave) at the Université Libre de Bruxelles.

Australians have responded generously with support for this photogenic little boy so that he can receive appropriate medical treatment.

The Thai government has responded by proposing restrictions on this form of trafficking in human persons and there has been much criticism of the commissioning couple, culminating in the discovery of an apparent history of child abuse by the commissioning male partner.

The public and media reaction to these circumstances has been interesting.

The shared premise would seem to be a negative reaction to a couple abandoning their biological child because he has a disability.

There is also the plight of the birth mother who has not apparently received what was due to her under the commercial arrangement.

Disquiet has also been expressed about the fact that the arrangement was commercial and exploitative of the poverty of the Thai birth mother.

A matter that seems to be relatively hidden in this discussion is that it would have been normal Western medical practice (around 90% of cases) to have aborted Gammy when it was discovered that he had Down's syndrome, but his birth mother reportedly refused on religious and conscientious grounds.

The fact is that whatever a commissioning couple might want, a birth mother has the final say on such matters under the criminal law in most jurisdictions, though of course she may be placed under contractual and financial pressure to do as the agency or the commissioning couple want.

That decision about eugenic abortion generally favoured by the medical profession, and warranting expensive early detection by screening and invasive testing to detect abnormality, raises curious anomalies about attitudes to disability.

Disability discovered before birth is seen differently from disability after birth. Continue reading

Sources

• ABC Religion and Ethics
• Image: BBC

God tells everyone to treat people equally, and I think that most people act in this way.

I don't feel as if people make fun of me or make me feel bad just because I have Down syndrome.

One special thing about me is that I have Down syndrome. Down syndrome means having an extra chromosome in my body. It's the way I was born.

My parents told me that when I was born on Aug. 9, 1995, the doctor looked at my hands and eyes and confirmed that I had Down syndrome.

This was not a surprise to my mom and dad because they knew I was going to have Down syndrome. That's because of a test that had been done before I was born.

Having Down syndrome is the same as having a disability.

My teacher, Mr. Beall, talks about people having disabilities. He says that it does not matter if you have a learning difference because everyone should be treated the same.

Other people think and say I have a disability, but I don't really think of myself as having a disability because I feel I fit in with other people. Continue reading.

Source: America Magazine

Image: America Magazine

Peter Hardgrave of Espresso Cafe, who has regularly employed intellectually disabled workers for nine years, says he will now pull the pin because a Government policy to gradually remove the subsidy will make future employment impractical.

The short-sighted policy did not take into account the fact that the worker would never have the same abilities as the rest of the workforce, he said. Continue reading

As someone in her 40s, unequivocally in middle age, I find myself and my friends in that stage of life that seems to auger constant assessment — am I happy? Am I doing the right thing with my life?

Evidenced by the number times Anne-Marie Slaughter's Atlantic piece "Why Women Still Can't Have It All" was posted on Facebook, it served as a cri de coeur of the collective unconscious of those of us swimming in the Gen X/Baby Boomer estuary, last stop before becoming truly elderly. (It's apparently also the most-read article in the magazine's 155-year history.) Slaughter rightly questions why having a family complicates the career ladder for women in a way that it does not for men. But the hidden heart of the article, I believe, is its hinting at that unspoken yearning for that perfect life that has been promised to us by ... someone? Ads? TV? Ms. Magazine? Those ATHLETA catalogs?

Let me compare and contrast that with a typical incident that happened just last week in my own 40-something working mother life. My husband and I were sitting in the office of a neuropsychologist who had just run an assessment on our 12-year-old son who has a variety of disabilities and medical problems.

"You know cognitively, he's functioning at the bottom 1 percent of children his age," he said.

I nodded.

"That means 99 percent of children are doing better than he is."

I nodded again. (Yes, I can do the math.)

He waited, seemingly perplexed. "Having seen what I saw, and of course you have to be with your son all the time — I have to ask you, how do you have the patience?"

I looked at him. He's my son. It was so obvious, I did not say it.

"I mean, really. How do you do it?" He looked to my husband, who gave him the same look. He tried a different tack: "Well, with all this stress, how are you two doing?" Read more

Sources

• The Atlantic Monthly
• Image: Boxlunches

"My condition is called cerebral palsy. My kind of cerebral palsy is in my legs - that is why I can't walk very well. I use crutches and a walker and a wheel chair. They help me get around places.

"Sometimes it's hard having cerebral palsy because I have to have appointments and I miss out on my learning and that's not fair for me. I have injections of Botox in my legs. The Botox hurts so they have to put me to sleep with gas. I used to have Botox every six months and now I don't need it anymore because I can walk.

"I can go swimming and walk to my Nana and Granddad's house and to the mail box. I can ride a bike, I can play music, I can get a drink by myself and I can dress myself. I can't walk long distances and there are some exercises I can't do. I can do the stretch exercises that my physiotherapist gives me. I can draw and I can do most things that people without cerebral palsy do. You can help me by waiting for me at the door and by helping me up and down the stairs."

Read article in Welcom

• Image: Margaret Online

The Pasifika Church Disability Toolkit is a resource which provides nourishment to the roots of the tree by broadening the awareness and understanding of disability issues within Pacific church communities.

The Disability ToolkIt provides Pacific churches with

• Information on how to best communicate with Pacific disabled peoples in their church community in order to include Pacific disabled peoples in church services, events and activities.
• Information on disability support services for Pacific church people to use and access.
• Helpful and practical suggestions on how church parishioners can positively respond to the needs of Pacific disabled peoples in their communities.

Source
Pacific Scoop

Photo Credit
Pacific Scoop