#developmental - Hello Poetry

The first lesson they teach us in EMT class Is to never lose our compassion, Never forget that every patient is A human being with a story, a family, a life. They tell us to keep our emotions in check But to never lose our respect, The trust in the competency and freedom of choice, For we are the link of survival On the worst day of their lives. We were not there to know the reason that led Up to the call, But we are there to get them through the danger that followed. Why then does the text book instruct us to abandon our respect, Abandon the presumption of humanity At the mere thought of the words 'developmental disability?' Why do the words Autism and Down Syndrome suddenly Make it okay to condescend and patronize as if to a child, To infantilize an adult whose intelligence we are not qualified to assume? Why is it my duty to respect a neurotypical patient And my job to abandon it for the developmentally disabled? I wonder if they would encourage my peers to treat me the same? After all, who cares that I am top of the class and squad leader to boot? Who cares that I answer the most questions or scored highest on the test? I am autistic. I am considered less than human. No. The textbook is wrong, Primitive despite being updated in 2018. Respect every patient means Respect ALL, No exceptions, No diagnostic caveats. 'First, do no harm.' Treat with empathy and compassion. It is their own inhumanity that prevents them From recognizing the humanity inside us, The developmentally challenged. I live on planet Autism, Population 1 in 59, No less of a person than any other, Perhaps more human really. That humanity is the force behind my First Responder drive. Do not deign to treat me as small child or foreign planet inhabitant. Forget the basis in the archaic. Respect and compassion for all cannot be checked at the door. I am not less than. My struggles have, if anything, Forced me to become more.

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Oct 11, 2019

Oct 11, 2019 at 2:50 AM UTC

PoetFromAnotherPlanet

Less Than Human

The first lesson they teach us in EMT class Is to never lose our compassion, Never forget that every patient is A human being with a story, a family, a life. They tell us to keep our emotions in check But to never lose our respect, The trust in the competency and freedom of choice, For we are the link of survival On the worst day of their lives. We were not there to know the reason that led Up to the call, But we are there to get them through the danger that followed. Why then does the text book instruct us to abandon our respect, Abandon the presumption of humanity At the mere thought of the words 'developmental disability?' Why do the words Autism and Down Syndrome suddenly Make it okay to condescend and patronize as if to a child, To infantilize an adult whose intelligence we are not qualified to assume? Why is it my duty to respect a neurotypical patient And my job to abandon it for the developmentally disabled? I wonder if they would encourage my peers to treat me the same? After all, who cares that I am top of the class and squad leader to boot? Who cares that I answer the most questions or scored highest on the test? I am autistic. I am considered less than human. No. The textbook is wrong, Primitive despite being updated in 2018. Respect every patient means Respect ALL, No exceptions, No diagnostic caveats. 'First, do no harm.' Treat with empathy and compassion. It is their own inhumanity that prevents them From recognizing the humanity inside us, The developmentally challenged. I live on planet Autism, Population 1 in 59, No less of a person than any other, Perhaps more human really. That humanity is the force behind my First Responder drive. Do not deign to treat me as small child or foreign planet inhabitant. Forget the basis in the archaic. Respect and compassion for all cannot be checked at the door. I am not less than. My struggles have, if anything, Forced me to become more.

46

Black-penned words scratched in long, pressured strokes, Page after page I soaked with this boon Filling spaces in haste to match pace   With the steady leaking of my wounds Seeking inky cure to stem the flow Oh, I’ve been told to dose with X’s and O’s, but the X’s jagged edges poke right through,   and the wholesome O’s are full of holes too.

0

Nov 22, 2017

Nov 22, 2017 at 2:05 AM UTC

Story

When I Was Eleven I Kept a Diary

Black-penned words scratched in long, pressured strokes, Page after page I soaked with this boon Filling spaces in haste to match pace   With the steady leaking of my wounds Seeking inky cure to stem the flow Oh, I’ve been told to dose with X’s and O’s, but the X’s jagged edges poke right through,   and the wholesome O’s are full of holes too.

8

I) A Child Though comfortably asleep With a doll by my side, Often I was terrified A chimera could lurk In the dark! Also from a distance When a dog bark I saw it stark A hyena with a Horn was out People to attack Capable to pose Its grotesque face Behind my back. II) A boy Smote by A dream object To anxiety I was subject. As she was Inaccessibly beautiful Self conscious I couldn't be cool Terrified "What if Before her eyes I prove a fool!" Nor could I pursue The endeavour --winning her heart-- 'Cause, topsy-turvy, to me She turned an object of terror! III) An adult I was questioning myself Whether"With my collogues, Could I rub a shoulder? If not better." Compared with neighbours Why,why and why Financially I could not stand Stand shoulder high? IV) A senior citizen Putting under a question Mark my health, I was beset To lustfully inherit My wealth My son or wife, Conspiring with Heinous neighbours, Could spell my death. Enemies in the past, What is more The misdeeds of my wife , Which are rife, Trailing by my mind Bad days me remind! Oft with an axe To grind My self I find.

0

Sep 30, 2017

Sep 30, 2017 at 11:05 AM UTC

alem-hailu-gkristos

Fear wedded life

I) A Child Though comfortably asleep With a doll by my side, Often I was terrified A chimera could lurk In the dark! Also from a distance When a dog bark I saw it stark A hyena with a Horn was out People to attack Capable to pose Its grotesque face Behind my back. II) A boy Smote by A dream object To anxiety I was subject. As she was Inaccessibly beautiful Self conscious I couldn't be cool Terrified "What if Before her eyes I prove a fool!" Nor could I pursue The endeavour --winning her heart-- 'Cause, topsy-turvy, to me She turned an object of terror! III) An adult I was questioning myself Whether"With my collogues, Could I rub a shoulder? If not better." Compared with neighbours Why,why and why Financially I could not stand Stand shoulder high? IV) A senior citizen Putting under a question Mark my health, I was beset To lustfully inherit My wealth My son or wife, Conspiring with Heinous neighbours, Could spell my death. Enemies in the past, What is more The misdeeds of my wife , Which are rife, Trailing by my mind Bad days me remind! Oft with an axe To grind My self I find.

60