Listen to the differently-abled

Have we ever spent enough time noticing or even discovering what exactly is happening around us? Time flies as we are busy trying to grow up, we do not realize what we have missed out until we reminisce. My cousin- “Lam” was diagnosed with Achondroplasia from birth. My impression of Lam is always the intelligent kid who knows everything, who speaks fluent English, who is excellent in digital-related stuff.

During our childhood, we would see each other several times a week and had tons of fun together. Lam would share his new PlayStation with me and teach me how to play all kinds of games. To me, we have the closest relationship. However, when our lives began to be piled up with hectic tuition schedules and different school hours, our relationship started to distance. This gap between us has caused us to remain quiet even though we were just sitting next to each other. Perhaps I was overly conscious of my words so I choose not to speak most of the time. My head was buried in the phone most of the time when Lam came to visit, all I did was say goodbye when he was about to leave. Our common topics reduce just like how our tacit fades.

As a family, I did not recognize my action was blocking him out of my life unintentionally. Despite that, I did not foresee that my action was worsening one’s mental health. It wasn’t until I realized Lam’s social media content is brimming with disappointment and sorrow. I felt ashamed and guilty for not being able to be there for him, I did not understand his experience and feelings at all. I never really pay attention to the strangers’ reaction or teases as we were hanging out in the mall. That was the agonizing wake-up call.

Passiveness can be a deteriorating factor to mental health, especially when we do not even show our concern. A simple effort to initiate a conversation such as “So, how’s it going?” might seem so powerless, yet it has already opened up a channel for them to express themselves. I believe that’s the least we could do for those we love. We need not to feel sorry for the differently-abled, but we can always be a listener and believe in them.

Although the differently-abled do not voice out, that does not mean they cannot feel anything. They feel warmth and coldness just like anyone in this world. What they need is not sympathy, it's empathy. Empathy is the enzyme that makes them feel that they are not being left out, and enhances their self-esteem. Instead of constantly repeating how pitiful a differently-abled person is, why not try our best to understand their emotions and their lives by listening to their story. Thus, we could provide them with meaningful support. Support comes in various forms, for me, I choose to show it by believing in my cousin that he could be successful and happy.