"No! Please don't bite your hand again!"
My brother is just about the sweetest child you'll ever meet - when he's having a good day. He has days where it's all we can do to restrain him and keep him from injuring himself. Other days it's easier; a walk through the neighborhood, jumping on the trampoline, or simply looking out the window.
Others like to say he's easily entertained, but we know he is quite the opposite. He is a child of deep intellect and knows what will keep him happy.
There's only one problem.
He has no language.
Ian is not mute and loves to express his emotions through short sounds, yelling, and occasional screaming. We have become attuned to his different vocalizations and praise him accordingly.
After years of attempting to formulate words and sounds, we finally turned to American Sign Language (ASL). Due to his struggle with fine motor skills, we, alongside his teachers and aids, have decided to alter the signs he has learned to simple hand signals.
With a mixture of easy, one or two-word phrases, and ASL, Ian has the ability, though limited, to communicate with us and others around him.
Unfortunately, his great strides in our house and through his school have no effect on other people. My family has grown stronger with Ian, and my sister and I are comfortable with defending him fiercely and without hesitation.
People stare, glare, and make comments about him in public. People with any type of disability experience prejudice and misrepresentation every single day.
My brother is unaware of people's ignorance when he waves and smiles at them while they disregard his friendliness and continue on their way without so much as a smile.
My family and I have decided that rather than reprimanding people for blatantly refusing to show the least bit of kindness, we will educate them. Instead of apologizing for his outbursts and cries of joy, we tell them that he is excited to see them.
Ian has breakthroughs every day that no one but us sees, and we are perfectly aware that others do not have to be proud of him for those; however, waving and smiling back to Ian visibly makes his day.
Whether Ian has a good day or bad day, seeing people in public supremely affects his mood for the better, and I just wish more people knew that deciding to stretch their lips into a smile for him could mean the difference between a rough, unsuccessful day and one that we look back on and cherish.
What you see as an insignificant act could mean the world to someone else - Remember that.
