Each of
the three or so times I applied for Medicaid for David, the intake worker at
DSS has asked if I am registered to vote, and once I tell her I am she has
updated our address, etc., in the computer system and has explained she is
required by law to ask at each intake. According to the BOE website the same is
true for intake at any state agency – “even” someone severely disabled like
most of the residents at the Center is supposed to be asked, and if they
indicate that they would like to register to vote, they are registered there on
the spot. Again specifically regarding someplace like the Center, the staff can
take the residents to the polls and assist them into the booths; Center staff
(state employees) are prohibited from assisting them in marking the ballot but
polling place staff can. For anyone else with any limitations, a family member
or anyone else they choose can go in the booth with them and assist them in
marking the choice they indicate. There was a lot of information about physical
disabilities and accessibility to facilities, with the general impression that
if any one person is denied the ability to vote by whatever is or is not in
place for him/her the entire democratic process is compromised. So, whoo-hoo
David can vote! I mean, once he turns 18.
This is a
good example of slight-Joanna-paranoia about what might and might not be denied
to David. We’ve thought and worried about various aspects of his future level
of independence, whatever that level might be, but the voting issue never
crossed my mind until now. My guess is the David, growing up in a house with
Matt and Joanna, is going to be as able to vote in an informed manner as anyone
with Down syndrome could be. And he’ll probably be able to read fairly well,
though that’s not a requirement for voting either, and after a couple of
practices I imagine he’ll do just fine managing the ballot. But the thought
that he might be turned away by some misinformed poll worker, or that people
might look at him strangely and wonder if he’s really supposed to be there, if
he can really make an informed decision. To those people I would say (once
again) just kinda stop and think, folks. Come on, now, you and I both know,
there is someone or maybe more than one person in your family or circle of
close friends, who understand less about what is going on than my son. You
know? That’s of course not poking fun at anyone with a disability. This is just
saying, just because someone has a disability like Down syndrome, that doesn’t
mean they don’t understand the basics of government and who they want to be
President, as well or better than someone else who is simply not well-informed
…
David’s
sedated echo was thoroughly documented in the previous entry; he also had his
yearly pediatric ophthalmologist appointment in Hendersonville. He almost made
a friend in the waiting room, a two-year-old boy named Jesus who also had Down
syndrome. I was a little hesitant to ask his mom if he had it; sometimes folks
of other ethnicities may look sort of “Downsy” (that was a word used in one of
the parent-of-baby-with-DS books I read) because their eyes are set farther
apart or the bridge of their nose may not be prominent. But then I saw how he
was sitting and holding his mouth/tongue while he played, and I was sure, so I
asked. Sure enough, so we swapped NICU/heart defect/vision stories (45 days to
David’s 92, no heart problem, but getting fitted for glasses today).
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