There is a pallor over the world today. The city of Paris, as most of you know, suffered unprecedented terror attacks last night.
My mind is still in shock, trying to comprehend the up-close carnage. People killed at a concert, just because they were there. I guess those guys at the so-called “Islamic State” must be proud of themselves. Enjoy your dubious success, wherever you suicide terrorists are.
All I can do at this point is recall where I was when this was happening. My mother and I were out to eat at a local Mexican restaurant. The match between France and Germany was on their TVs – the station was reporting it in Spanish, so it was no big deal. Immediately, there was an explosion outside the stadium, and the reports switched to a terror attack around in Paris. (I can read a lot of Spanish – at least the courses I took in high school gave me that ability.) I asked the manager to see if I got reading the words right, and he confirmed there was an attack. We left the store with Paris on our hearts, and the evening was awful. We had a fairly ordinary evening, but terror attacks cast a horrid shadow over everything. We watched 20/20’s coverage, where words were not minced or censored (and I did not care), and people were doing the only thing they could when their country is attacked: get behind it. People being evacuated at the soccer game sang France’s National Anthem, and there were report of people inviting others in their homes for safety. As my nation throws its support behind its oldest ally, I join the two, and begin to brew some resolve and comfort the Parisians and Frenchmen, and everyone in Paris that night.
Just so you know, I believe today we are all Parisians.
Well, it was that time of year again – Jesus Prom 2015. It was a wonderful affair, where we dressed up and ate, played games and danced the night away. This time, the escorts ate food with us, so that was not as awkward as it was in years past.
You know, I like the idea of the Jesus Prom. It gives those of us with disabilities a chance to be loved and appreciated in a way normally reserved for the able bodied and minded. Hopefully, that is the impact. I am all about the impact, where people like me are valued and precious, like any “healthy” person is naturally given. It even lets us women with disabilities be loved and cared about in a way that even traditional feminism denies us (which is for the Barbie dolls of the world, mostly). I often feel left out with my age, my size, my gender, my disability…if it takes a “special person” night out to see my value, then I need to be a “special person” night out.
It is kind of like Black History Month, to be honest. The white, able men in power think we do not need this because we have made strides in advocacy, but in reality, we will always need things like the Jesus Prom and Black History Month because there will always be hate in the hearts of those with power for those out of power. Everybody feels powerless, because power does not satisfy the cravings for love and acceptance. I am convinced that hatred in one’s heart can only be removed supernaturally, and those who refuse this supernatural help will always have hate in their hearts, no matter how “Christian” or “spiritual” they claim to be. There is no other solution.
Anyway, I had a wonderful time, and the need for Jesus Prom is very palpable. People with autism are ignored or dismissed, because they are not able. Down Syndrome people are ignored for the same reason. I don’t have to remind the people who use wheels that they are excluded from anything with steps and no ramps. We are excluded with what seems to be a passion, and most of us know that potentially disabled kids are aborted at higher rates than able ones, and many disabled kids are mudered by their caretakers, AND THE CARETAKERS ARE PRACTICALLY PRAISED FOR THEIR MURDERS. We know the mentality: “Better Dead than Disabled.” This is why we need the Jesus Prom: a big night out to let us be as loved and accepted as we possibly can. I hope those around us understand.