Deacon Dan Wright

Where Teaching and Diaconate Meet

It's not often that I find myself in the news. Certainly with the kind of news we might see nowadays this can be considered a good thing I suppose. 

However, recently I was honored to have been selected to be profiled on one of the local Austin news programs for my work as a teacher. During the interview I was asked to explain what a deacon is and does. My comments about it were somewhat brief, so I was delightfully surprised to find that once the editing was done my role as a deacon took the forefront. 

I share this positive human interest story with you, and as always I seek your continued prayers that the work I do truly will always make a difference. Again, I am honored--but perhaps even more I am humbled and called to an even greater degree of Christian service.

Friday Freedom Thoughts

It may seem funny, but this week after returning to work following a full two week vacation someone says, "Hey don't we have a three day weekend coming up soon?" Well, yes we do have a three day weekend coming on January 18--just a week from Monday. 

Something I hold strongly is that when we have a school holiday to commemorate something special, it ought not just be an extra day off.  We ought to seriously consider why we have the day off in the first place.  So after asking a few of my students what Martin Luther King Jr. Day is all about, and not getting answers that truly satisfied me, I jumped at the opportunity to do a bit of teaching--even if it's a full week early.  In the world of special education we sometimes need to teach and reteach, so the early start is not out of place.  Perhaps for the rest of us an early start at thinking about "why" for holidays such as MLK day is also in order.

Now, I'll likely say more about Martin Luther King Jr. and nonviolence next week.  For today I feel that a fitting Friday meditation for my blog might be in the form of a video--one that features a favorite singer of mine.  After all, it's been some time since I've featured a video.

Resolve

Each year the Christmas break brings a much needed opportunity for rest.  For me, as a teacher, this seems to be especially true.  The two weeks I have for vacation provide a time of recharge.  So as I return to work this week, I hopefully have found renewed vigor and readiness to face the challenges of the work that lies ahead.

While in years past I really haven’t been much of one to make New Year’s resolutions, I have found it to be helpful to find a sense of resolve for the year that is in front of me.  For some it may help to list their resolutions.  It’s funny, but in my work life I tend practically to live from various kinds of lists, such as “to do” lists and checklists.  However, I’ve never been much of one for New Year’s resolution lists.  Although I made a list last year, I only managed to keep up with one or two of the most important items on it.  No surprise that daily exercise didn’t make it far (unless you count running up the stairs at school a dozen times a day).

The resolve I plan this year is a little harder to define.  It comes from going through a spiritual journey—one that hasn’t yet given me a sense of its having been completed, and perhaps may not since spirituality is a journey that culminates in the final days of one’s life.  The resolve I have comes from a combination of everything that I experienced in the past year.  I suppose if I looked deeply enough at it I might find that it’s a culmination of my whole life up to this point.  In all of it I like to think that the Epiphany light will continue to shine and show the way.

The spiritual message that I feel is being given to me, in an elegantly simple way, is that I am to be a diligent worker—a coworker with God—this year.  At the start of this year I gather from my life, from my past and present, my deep-seated commitment to peacemaking and I feel that God is asking me to explore it more. 

In the past year my blog here only served to be a place to post monthly homilies.  Like so many other bloggers, whom I've seen come and go, I have almost let go of regular posting.  Of course you only need to look at my archives to see that this hasn’t always been the case.  It may be that this year I will make better use of this blog in exploring my spiritual commitments as well as perhaps sharing my struggles.

I know from my stats that I have a readership, though it may be small at times.   Nevertheless, I invite your comments and I invite you to follow whatever posts I put here this year.  I also invite your prayers as I attempt to express spirit and faith, as I attempt to share the difficulties and triumphs that are common to Christians living in the world today.  Perhaps more than anything, I’d like to share with you a better sense of my role as a deacon, that is, as I share my particular diakonia, my service.  Bear with me and pray for me as I resolve to be a coworker with Christ in all things.

Adam's Pew

Following my post this morning on the story of Adam Race being banned from his parish, I was alerted to an organized response already underway called Adam's Pew.

You may follow the link above or read the excerpt below.  Part of the story that I did not include in my blog  earlier today hinted that something was underway already in the way of support for the Race family. One family, the Rupps, brought their autistic daughter from St. Paul to occupy the pew where Adam normally sat. 

Libby Rupp reportedly said that she feels that the case against Adam is mostly about not understanding autism.  While she said that she can understand why some people might be uncomfortable around Adam, she never felt in danger around him. 

I have to reiterate, having been around people with autism for a number of years now, that much of what is needed is simply understanding, and perhaps a shadowing ministry in the parish.  For going on four years now my wife and I have provided a similar ministry, although it is for providing religious education for children with cognitive disabilities, including autism, rather than shadowing at Mass.

Indeed tolerance and understanding will go a long way, and it is true that autism does not typically manifest itself as a small boy flapping his hands and talking quietly to himself.  Sometimes people with autism are loud; sometimes they urinate on themselves or in a public place depending on their severity.  Sometimes they hit others and sometimes they bolt and run.  I've seen it all, and I've seen it all in my son too.  Nevertheless, I want to welcome people with autism at my parish.  I want it to be known that kids with disabilities can serve alongside me at the altar--and it's true that they do even now.

Last Sunday before Mass started I noticed a child in the congregation on the very back row wearing what looked like sound-proof headphones.  She was having a royal fit as we were getting started and she continued to scream right through my homily, but funny enough people didn't seem to be bothered and neither was I.  God must granted us all a bit of peace.  I'm really glad that child was there.  Word has gotten out that St. Thomas More parish is autism friendly--I pray we keep it that way.

Here's the excerpt from Adam's Pew:

Adam's Pew is a response to the highly publicized May 2008 story in which Adam Race, a 13-year-old boy with autism, was banned from his church.  Adam’s parents received a restraining order from their home parish of 12 years.  Every Sunday for years, his family sat in the last pew.  This pew was reserved, at Adam’s family’s request.  The arrangement lessened any disruptions Adam’s symptoms may have produced.

When news of the restraining order spread, several families of children with autism pledged to occupy the pew every Sunday until the Race family was restored to their faith community.  It will take most of the families several hours to reach the Church in the small town of Bertha, Minnesota.  Currently, the restraining order remains in effect and the Race family will soon enter into mediation.  Their goal is to once again become welcome in their home parish.

Adam Race’s story has inspired passionate discussion among countless people regarding the various facets of this case.  Nationally and beyond, many families are not attending church because they don’t feel welcome.  The story’s quick spread points to a profound need to establish an atmosphere of welcome and acceptance in churches everywhere.  Thus, Project: Adam's Pew was created. 

Without much planning, effort or cost, Project: Adam’s Pew is a simple tool for church leaders.  Through broadening awareness, a church can reach out to those feeling previously unwelcome and those hesitant to attend church services due a family member’s disability.  Project: Adam’s Pew is not meant to replace or compete with other inclusion programs developed by many denominations throughout the country.

Catholic Parish Bans Autistic Child

After a month-long break from blogging to finish up school year work and prepare for my summer break, I anticipated that would return with something on a more uplifting note.  As I read the story posted below, my emotions ranged from deep sadness to outrage.  The words of Jesus from Sunday's gospel echoed in soul, "Not all who say to me 'Lord, Lord' will enter the kingdom of heaven."

Among the many things to find truly appalling in the story, the fact that the child's mom was issued a citation on Mother's Day for taking him to Mass stands out.  Tears should pour from heaven.

BERTHA, Minn. -- Carol Race thinks it's important for her 13-year-old son to be in church on Sundays for Catholic Mass.

Leaders of the Church of St. Joseph once felt the same way, but not anymore. They say Race's autistic son Adam is disruptive and his erratic behavior threatens the safety of other parishioners.

The northern Minnesota church has obtained a restraining order to keep Adam away, an action that has been deeply hurtful to the Race family and has brought them support from parents of other autistic children.

"My son is not dangerous," Carol Race said. The church's action is "about a certain community's fears of him. Fears of danger versus actual danger," she said.

In court papers, church leaders say the danger is real. The Rev. Daniel Walz wrote in his petition for the restraining order that Adam--who already is more than 6 feet tall and weighs more than 225 pounds--has hit a child, has nearly knocked over elderly parishioners while bolting from his pew, has spit at people and has urinated in the church.

"His behavior at Mass is extremely disruptive and dangerous," wrote Walz. "Adam is 13 and growing, so his behaviors grow increasingly difficult for his parents to manage."

Carol Race said Walz's claims are exaggerated.

"He's never actually injured anyone," she said. "He's never knocked down anyone. He's never urinated on anyone or spit on anyone."

Carol Race was cited for attending church May 11 in violation of the restraining order, and faces a hearing Monday. She says she can't afford a lawyer and will defend herself in court. A lay mediator is scheduled to meet with her and church board members on Wednesday.

Autism is a developmental disorder that affects a person's ability to communicate and interact with others. It is more severe in some people than others. Adam has limited verbal skills.

Walz did not return calls seeking comment, but Jane Marrin, who works for the Diocese of St. Cloud and is acting as a spokeswoman for the parish, said the church board tried working with the Races to find "reasonable accommodations." That included offering a video feed of Mass that could be watched in the church basement.

The family refused all suggestions, she said.

"It's a difficult issue," Marrin said. "There are no easy answers."

Carol Race dismissed the church's suggestion that Adam watch a video feed in the church basement, saying that "does not have the same status as attending Mass. Otherwise we could all just sit home and watch it on TV and not bother to come in."

"It's considered a sin in the Catholic church not to attend Mass on Sundays and every holy day of obligation," she said. "And that's what this is about. I'm just trying to fulfill my obligations."

Adam is one of five children. The family's home in nearby Eagle Bend has separate study rooms so the other children can read books and use crayons that Adam could otherwise destroy.

Carol said Adam has two favorite spots in the house, the prayer room and the kitchen table. "He likes to eat," she said, laughing.

Adam is prone to anxiety attacks. Carol said some of those outbursts force members of the family to sit on him to calm him down, or restrain his hands and feet with a strip of felt.

In his court petition, Walz said that after one service Adam got into another family's car, started it and revved up the engine while there were people in front of the vehicle.

"Adam's continued presence on parish grounds not only endangers the parishioners, it is disruptive to the devout celebration of the Eucharist," Walz wrote. "I have repeatedly asked John and Carol to keep Adam from church; they have refused to do so.

"In fact, Carol told our parish council that she would have to be dragged from church in handcuffs if I tried to keep Adam from attending Mass," he wrote.

Continue reading

There is a lot more that can be done in the way of offering support than forcing a kid to watch Mass on a video from the basement.  Forcing someone to sit in the basement is not a reasonable accommodation by any stretch of the imagination--It's discrimination.

As someone who works daily with autistic teenagers, and as the parent of an autistic child, I have several questions.  Has the diocese, consulted an autism expert, or has anyone done as little as having contacted the school to discuss what support they use in the classroom?  Did they consider paying a trained person to sit with him (there are people who do this--I know several)?  Has anything been done to educate parishioners about autism?

As my wife was leaving for work this morning I could sense her sadness over having learned about the story.  I told her, "Look at it like this, it's another diocese--not us."  She was quick to correct me, "No, it is us.  This hurts the whole Church."  Indeed, when this kind of thing happens it not only hurts the family who must suffer through the ordeal of not being understood--not loved--and not accepted.  It also hurts their parish, their diocese, and when it makes the news it hurts us all.  On a spiritual level it hurts us regardless of whether it is news or not.  It is a situation that cries out for justice.

I think it is interesting to juxtapose this story with the fact that in 1941 young Joseph Ratzinger had a 14-year-old cousin--a few months younger than he was--who had Down Syndrome.  The cousin was taken away by Nazi authorities and presumably killed under Hitler's euthanasia program for the disabled. I know what John Paul II had to say about people with cognitive disabilities.  In light of the incident with his cousin, I'd like to see Pope Benedict also say something.

In the past, at the masses where I do not serve at the altar, my wife and I have chosen to sit in the back of the church with our children, including our autistic son--I think from now on we'll sit in the front.

 

This Says it All

Need I say more?  It seems to me as if the past couple weeks had a whole month rolled into them--never mind.  I'm just grousing a little.  Who knows, perhaps I will shovel myself out and begin posting regularly in the next couple days.

There are days when being a teacher at a giant school and being a deacon at a humongous parish have a lot in common.  The two combined are often more than many people would care to accept.  It's not that I would ever want to stop serving in either capacity.  Both are what I consider to be a directive given from on high. 

Actually, I think something interesting is that I get a sense of anonymity, both at the parish and the school.  I can take my child to religious education, myself dressed in jeans, t-shirt and sunglasses and often no one knows me!  My religious education name badge just says "Dan Wright."  There's no "Deacon" in front of it.  When I show up on Monday nights to teach religious education for cognitively disabled kids I'm just Mr. Wright, or Dan.

"Mr. Wright," the voice on the phone in my room says, "please come get your child--he's being disruptive."

I get the same sense of anonymity walking through the halls at the school--I'm new there so many people don't know me, excluding some of the folks in my wing, and two or three who are from my parish.

What I'm trying to get at tonight--beyond rambling--has to do with disability.  I find myself being acutely aware of situations where I feel anonymous, but what about having a sense or feeling of invisibility?  I have to admit that as an able-bodied and able-minded (mostly) person I have rarely felt invisible--low key, yes, but rarely not seen by others.

Something I notice about disability in our society is that people would often rather look the other way.  It comes from when we were kids ourselves and our mothers taught us that it was not polite to stare at people who were "crippled" or "mentally retarded."  We carry it right into our adult lives and find ourselves preferring not to see people with disabilities.  We are blind often to a world that demands to be addressed and recognized--and certainly included in everything.

Funny enough, looking out from underneath my snowstorm of paperwork (forget answering emails), I notice quite a bit.  Maybe it's because I'm a parent too, and there's just something about getting that call from my own child's school--or even the parish--that gets to me. "Mr. Wright, your child is being disruptive" translates into "Mr. Wright, your child is becoming visible."

Part of the reason my wife and I decided to start a program at the parish for the religious education of children with cognitive disabilities was because it wasn't being offered anywhere else--the other part of the reason had to do with our own child.  However, beyond simply providing a class at the church for kids with disabilities, we wanted to get the kids into the regular classrooms.  We wanted other people to see them--to see these kids as just kids.  Yet it will always be a fight, or so it seems.  However, if we lose the fight, or if our program fails because we just weren't willing to go to the trouble, it's more than just an ugly black eye in the end.  What we do for the one's who get the least consideration in this life reveals our true attitude about the whole.  It reveals the depth of the Holy in us.

It's more than a bit disappointing to get a call from the parish and hear that several RE teachers had problems with kids being a little bit too...out of the ordinary, less than normal, or maybe just too visible.  "The teachers are just volunteers after all," I am told, "and they don't have any special training."  Still, I've got to wonder...what special training is necessary to be patient and maybe tolerant of a kid that gets up and walks around or perhaps sings a song to himself or herself?  If it is truly a matter of disruption, I've found that a stern "sit down," or "please be quiet" will do the trick most of the time.  However, it's a little hard to address someone you can't see.

There are a lot of days as a public school special education teacher when I feel like special training only counts for ten minutes of the day.  The rest of it is being open and tolerant, and the reason why I consider what I do at the public school to be part of my ministry as a deacon is because it requires the acceptance of my students--and every single thing about them--as being made in the same image of God that everyone else is.

Now, one final question, and this one really is a test that counts: who is it really that we are rejecting when we send away or refuse to see these little ones?

Team Hoyt Video

As a special educator, this really spoke to my heart...but as a parent, I'm left speechless.

Hat tip to Catholic and Enjoying It!

The Diakonia of Love: Serving the Little Ones

For a teacher the summer offers a much anticipated and necessary time to recharge. I like to spend my time off with my three kids, doing typical summer things—going to the neighborhood pool or cooking out in the back yard. However, summer also ranks high as a time to reflect on what is important. Naturally my family life comes in highest, but I never am able to get too far away from a special calling that God gave me. It is a calling that I could never have predicted.

READ MY ENTIRE ARTICLE AT TCR NEWS