Think Before You Post

This is a rant, so hold on to your hats.

Yesterday I saw an image on social media that deeply disturbed me.  It upset me and angered me to my core.  First I cried, then I just shook with rage.  I wanted to scream.  After that, I hugged my own kids, reminding them how much I love them and how much they mean to me.  What disturbed me even more than the image itself was that a mother had posted this photograph of her child.  A child who could not defend herself, could not object to the photograph being taken, and could not object to the photo being posted in such a public forum.

The photograph was of a partially clad 5 year old child with wearing a diaper.  According to the mother, the little girl has severe autism and is nonverbal, meaning she could not give permission for the mother to take and post such a photo.  The child had used the diaper for it's purpose, but unfortunately, some of the mess had run up the child's back.  The mother's caption read, "This is autism.  This is NOT a gift."  This was a five year old child who could not fight back.  A chronologically five year old child, with the emotional, physical and social ages of a much younger child.  This was a mother shaming and humiliating her child, robbing her child of basic human dignity, all while calling it awareness and education.  Neither of those came across in that photograph.  What did come across was a toxic mother, angry and bitter about her situation, angry and bitter towards a child who could not help it. The child does not choose to have autism, but this mother can choose her actions, behaviors and thoughts toward her child.  This was not awareness, this was emotional abuse.  I had so many questions--if this mother was willing to go that far, what is she doing to this child when no one is watching?  I absolutely judged the hell out of her.

My heart broke and I felt physically ill.  My first instinct was to track down the mother's name and location, then report her to social services.  I wanted to see her pay.  My second instinct was to slam the mother in the comments section.  I really, really wanted to just lay into her.  I wanted her to feel just as much shame as she had put on her child. How dare she.  How dare she call herself a mother.  How dare she claim awareness as her motive.  I wanted to ask her if she would've posted a photo of a feces-smeared neurotypical five year old, or even that of a toddler, who more closely resembles the maturity and emotional age of her daughter--and if not, why would those children be given more dignity and consideration than her child with autism?  I wanted to beg her to consider adoption, and tell her to please stop having children.  I wanted to remind her that while she may not view autism as a gift, her child still is and should be treated accordingly.  I wanted to tell her there are childless couples who pray for what she has, just for the chance to become parents, special needs and all.

In the end, after a lot of thought and prayer, I did not.  I did not publicly shame this mother for many reasons--the biggest of which was that I could not reduce myself to her level.  What would've been the point?  I had nothing constructive to offer her.  I had no pearls of wisdom, no words of encouragement.  I only had my own anger and bitterness and outrage.  And, judging by the sympathizers in the comments section, I was very alone with my feelings.  Also, considering the tone and attitude this woman held, my point would never have gotten across.  If I had had wisdom or encouragement to offer, it would've fallen on deaf ears.  Beyond all of that, I don't know this woman.  Her photo and page showed up in my navigation feed thanks to some random computer equation, based on other photos I had 'liked' with similar hashtags.  What would be the point in attacking a complete stranger?  What if this woman really is a good mom, but just reached a breaking point and needed to vent, as I do now?  What if she thought she was reaching out to other moms, saying, as I often do, "Hey, I'm here.  I get it.  I know it's not easy."  Admittedly, I have not wanted to give her that benefit of the doubt.  I questioned my motives, as this mother should've done.  Even now, posting this, I still have to question my motives, but seriously, if I don't get it out of my head, I'll never get to sleep.

Look, I get it.  I know we are on the mild end of things.  I know how blessed we are by Noah's range on the spectrum.  It is something I am grateful for every single day, and I will never take for granted.  I know I am one of the few who look at my child's diagnosis and, rather than seeing the need for a cure, I see a gift.  I know there is very little about severe autism that is easy--but I also know that holds true for many parts of parenting neurotypical children as well at times.  When we have children, we take chances.  There is no guarantee of a healthy, perfect, neurotypical child.  In our decision to become parents, we make the choice to become responsible for that child, to love that child, to care for that child, no matter what--or find someone who will. I know there is a grief process when your child is diagnosed.  While I've not been in this woman's situation as a parent, I've been there as a caseworker.  Only seven years older than my 12 year old charge while I worked through college, I knew enough that 'my' little boy deserved privacy as I changed his diaper.  I knew enough that he deserved human dignity, and to be cleaned gently and with care.  I did not shame him, even as I cleaned feces out of the carpet and off the walls. Even now, with an infant, I get upset when people treat Ezra as their personal entertainment while I change his diaper in a public restroom.  I want to kick down the doors to their stalls, tickle them under their chins and stare, asking them how they're enjoying the invasion of their privacy.  You wouldn't believe the nasty looks I get when I do ask for privacy, noting that I'm changing my child's diaper, not running a theater show or petting zoo.  Something else I learned from 'my' little boy was that while he could not voice his opinions, objections and thoughts, he understood everything going on around him.  I have no doubt this little girl also understood her mother's point.  I also know that even on their most stressed days, even on their most grief-stricken days, that little boy's parents were still grateful for him.  I can't say that came across in this woman's case, though.

I wish this mother had given more thought to her motives, words and actions before posting such a photograph.  She could have achieved so much more, and less humiliation, with a different photo, a different caption, an entirely different approach.  She could have taken a healthier, less toxic, less damaging approach.  My prayer is that she will seek help, both through respite care and counseling, for herself and her child.  My prayer is that she will reconsider her actions in the future, and consider her child's human right to dignity.

Please, everything is permanent on the internet.  No matter how private your account is, thanks to reposts and screenshots, nothing is private anymore.  Once it's out there, it's out there for good.  Think about the consequences and repercussions, not just for yourself, but the person you're posting about.  Question your motives, then question them some more.  If you're a praying person, pray about it.  Don't react in anger, don't post in anger.  Even if you think you're being funny, raising awareness, or whatever else you might think--you really might just be mean.  Think before you post.