There are few enough books written by those who have cerebral palsy. "I'll Do It Myself" by Glenda Watson Hyatt is one that I have throughly enjoyed reading and highly recommend. (Her blog is on my recommended reading list, too!) Another quite different book but equally enjoyable read is "George's Travelogue", by George McDowell. One of the best regular blogs (because, like the two books, it challenges comfortable, conventional thinking) is "Lawyer on Wheels" by Ralph Strzałkowski. (Both the latter two writers have strong connections with conductive education and living conductive lifestyles).
If books by people with cerebral palsy are rare, books by parents of those with cerebral palsy seem to me even rarer. (Having met all the writers above, however, briefly, how I would like to read accounts of their upbringing by their Mums and Dads!).
So it is that I am looking forward to reading a book written by a parent of a child with cerebral palsy that's new to me although published as long ago as 2008, "Walking Hand in Hand with Cameron, Together We Can!" by Becki Enck. I suspect we will have much in common.
"Walking Hand in Hand with Cameron, Together We Can" shares the Enck family's journey into the world of special-needs parenting. Travel with them as they share the feelings they felt as they learned of Cameron's brain damage and their struggles to obtain therapies for Cameron despite obstacles from their HMO. Understand why the Encks' have now made it their mission to educate medical professionals on how to deliver a diagnosis with care and compassion. Also learn why the Encks' are committed to educating people to see Cameron for who he is, not what condition he has. This book is a culmination of Becki's four-year-long personal journey of finding her life's purpose out of one of the hardest, most painful, yet most personally rewarding and enriching experiences of her life. As you read this book, you will understand why the statement Dr. Shah spoke to the Encks' the evening he delivered the news that Cameron had suffered extensive brain damage, "The day you say Cameron will never do something, he never will!," has become their life philosophy.
Let's just pause on that: "The day you say Cameron will never do something, he never will!" - a positive statement of hope and transformation, if I ever I read one.
And yet there is something odd - in the book's Foreword (not written by Becki Enck) there is as muddled account of "potential" as I may ever have read. You may have to read it yourself to get the full force. Having read the Foreword several times, I have no idea what the writer means by "potential", although in a short 2 pages, it is used no less than six times. I do not wish to be unfair in extracting the following.
Becki's very important message "was to never prejudge a child's potential".
However, it is important also "to allow all children to reach their potential".
"We all have a unique potential".
"Most lack the confidence or have the knowledge on how to reach that potential"
"One of my student's potential is to have someone who they can truly call a friend. Another student's goal is to be gainfully employed".
[His mother's] "relentless drive for Ross to reach his potential has allowed him to surpass many milestones that many said would never happen".
So, "potential" then is something we each uniquely have, presumably inside ourselves somewhere (so that it can be unlocked, perhaps?); something that all children must be allowed to reach; even though they may lack confidence or knowledge to reach it; but that those who would help them reach it must never prejudge (which is to say, presume they know) what it is for an individual.
How one even begins to think about the business of teaching and learning or about that of bringing up a child based on commonly heard notions of "potential" like this is simply beyond me. Would it not be better to simply ditch the whole notion, never again to use the word at all, as Andrew Sutton suggests?
Let's talk differently about the education and upbringing of children with cerebral palsy. And, dare I say it, let's talk about it conductively.