Confessions of a Recovering Judger

Dear Jules,
Every time I read the Bible--okay, let me be honest, every time I go to church and listen to the Bible--I'm struck by the sections about the Pharisees judging Jesus.  He heals the blind, the sick, and the lame, but these priests, supposedly religious men, attack Him because he's not following the rules.

Their rules.

It's easy to look at this and think we would never be so closed-minded, but most of us are, when I think about it, a lot like the Pharisees.  We grow up with or develop a certain set of rules and, when people make different choices, we judge them.

For the most part, I think it makes us feel better about ourselves and our choices: surely we are the ones in the right?  Surely we have it "right?"

Then again, that's probably what the Pharisees thought, and now their very title is shorthand for hypocrites, people who superficially do what's right but don't look at the spirit of the matter.
When I was younger, I confess that it scared me not to see the world in black and white.  If there were "right" choices and "wrong" choices, I could simply make sure I chose the correct ones and avoid making mistakes.  I judged people who I thought were making mistakes: my classmates, my brother, people on television, and, too often, myself.

I was a really unhappy person because, every time I deviated from my own rules or made a "mistake," I was convinced that I had made an irrevocably wrong choice.

Fast-forward thirty years or so, and I'm now a mom, a wife, a professor, a person who has been forced, by life, to see many shades of grey.  I've learned that choices are not "wrong" or "right," they are sometimes the best choices for a particular person, a particular situation.  I remember very clearly when I was twenty-seven, sleeping in the critical care unit because my father was dying.  I was single, no partner in sight, and feeling really crappy about it, and I met a woman who had married and had kids at age 16.  She told me she envied my going to college, graduate school, and working, and I realized then that all of our choices or life situations are not better or worse, just different.

Nothing has made this more clear than becoming a parent.

The minute you become a parent (or maybe even before), people start judging your choices.  Why are you letting your kid wear that?  Eat that?  Do that?  Why don't they sleep with you?  Why do they?  Why didn't you breastfeed longer?  Why did you?  No matter what you do, it seems that you can't win.

Your Nagyi and Grammy both stayed at home with me and with your dad, and they were judged for it.  When women like I work, we are judged for it.  As a teenager, I often wondered why my parents made certain decisions, but now I realize that they were simply making the best decisions they could for our family.  That's what every parent wants: what's best for his or her child.  Our definitions of that might be different, but we have to let up on the "mommy wars" long enough to respect each other, to concede that people's choices might be different (not better or worse) than ours.

Last weekend, I ran into a very blunt special-needs grandparent.  When I asked her if her grandson was mainstreamed (because she was talking about going with his class on field trips, like I do for you), she said "no" and proceeded to tell me that mainstreaming was not the right choice for you.  How were you to learn life skills, to succeed as a person with a disability, if you were not educated by special education "experts?"

I'm sure many people have thought this, but no one has ever asked me outright, and I must admit I was left flailing.  She then talked about how "we young people" don't understand the meaning of sacrifice, working when we should be staying at home with our special needs kids.

I left the situation feeling deflated, insecure, attacked and torn apart.  Once I thought about it, I realized that she must be pretty insecure about her own choices to attack another's so bluntly.  I wonder if she, too, is unhappy.

I want you to know, Jules, that I mainstream you because I've read lots of studies that show this to be a good approach.  Because you have lots of friends at school who love you, and because you might learn language more quickly by being around it more.  I don't want to judge people who don't because I can see their side as well, and it's becoming more and more difficult to keep you included.  Bottom line, I want to do what's best for you.

If you're reading this and you've had to go to therapy because of my decisions, I am so sorry.  I want you to know that I try to do what's best for you, and it's all any parent can do.
And I want anyone I might inadvertently have judged to know that I'm truly sorry.  None of us can live each others' lives, but what we can do, especially as special needs parents, is to support each other.

Instead of attacking one another, we can do what Jesus did: we can heal each other.  We can't heal the blind, but we can educate people and help them to see.  We can't exorcise spirits, but we can listen and be there for our friends with mental illness.  We can't heal illness, but we can be there, like that woman was for me years ago in that waiting room.  Being there, listening without judging, is perhaps our best form of healing.

I'm not there yet, but I'm working on it.