Talking to My Niece About Disability

Niecelet is seven, and she's very curious about the world, as you'd expect at this age. Mostly, she's curious about superheroes, tanks, aliens, and ghosts, but a broken arm while skiing that came with a lot of bruises and stiffness required her to use a wheelchair briefly. By briefly, I mean, "to get from hospital bed to car," plus one trip to the museum where her mother rolled her around instead of forcing her to hobble.

However brief her wheelchair use was, it's engendered a few questions about disability. Take this recent exchange, as I sat at the computer and poked around a service dog's photo album on Photobucket.

Niecelet: He looks silly with that big collar on.

Me: That's a harness. It's so he can support his handler, who grabs that handle there and leans on it. Like when you used my arm to stay stable while walking when you were dizzy after the hospital.

Niecelet: So his owner is dizzy?

Me: His owner has a disability that makes it harder to walk. The dog helps him be more mobile, like the wheelchair at the hospital helped you be more mobile.

Niecelet: Like a guide dog?

Me: Yes, a guide dog is another kind of service dog.

Niecelet: What if the dog got hurt, like he broke a leg or something?

Me: Then he would need a break and he might need to retire. Let's hope that doesn't happen.

Niecelet: Dogs can't retire. What would the person do?

Me: Anyone who works can retire, and that means working dogs, too. The person would probably need a new service dog, or a wheelchair or crutches for a while.

Niecelet: Can a dog have a service dog?

So far, not too many difficult questions. She's mostly curious about the technicalities of disability: How to roll around in a wheelchair, who can have a service dog, how people who are blind can read, what sign language is. She hasn't asked about things like public access or discrimination yet, and I haven't had a chance to discuss the ADA with her, which might be for the best. So far, the goal when she asks me about disability is to engender the perception of disability as different, but not scary or lesser, and letting her think everyone sees it that way for a little while might not be a bad thing.