Dear Ann Curry:
This morning I was watching your broadcast, as I do every morning, and I heard the story about the young lady named Cheyenne who was both bullied and demeaned by her special education teachers. I was appalled by the behavior of the teacher and the teacher's assistant and furthermore was outraged that the school district did nothing until the father took it upon himself to equip his daughter with a recording device in order to catch the bullying first hand.
However, the bullying Cheyenne endured at the hands of these adults is not the only thing that troubled me about this segment.
In particular I was upset by the way you spoke to both Cheyenne and her father.
I specifically take note of your comment to the young lady's father, "I'll tell you one thing that Cheyenne has that makes her very lucky and that is how much you love her." and then to Cheyenne herself you said, "You are so lucky that your dad loves you so much."
To the casual observer I am sure this came across as a heartfelt compliment to a family that has been through a heart wrenching ordeal. However, to the parent of a special needs child this is one of the most backhanded compliments you can give.
Speaking from personal experience I am not new to comments such as these. I typically receive them from strangers who have just witnessed one or both of my two sons having a massive meltdown in the middle of the grocery store. You see, I am a mother of two sons on the severe end of the autism spectrum. Most of the time people don't know what to say when I tell them that but more often than not I get the same line you fed to Cheyenne and her father today.
When I hear someone tell me how "lucky" my boys are to have me my mind immediately processes the comment as this,
"Wow! That kid is damn lucky to have you because there is no way in hell I could handle a kid like yours. Way to go making the best of the crappy hand you've been dealt at the parenting table."
Some may think I am overreacting but I would be willing to bet that if you asked Cheyenne's father he'd tell you he didn't appreciate being congratulated on loving and caring for his own child.
I am sure, Ms. Curry, that in your heart of hearts you meant for your comment to come out more along the lines of, "I am so sorry this happened to you and your family. I am saddened that the very people you should have been able to trust with your daughter's education and care failed you. My hope is that your speaking out about this situation may help prevent other special education students from suffering the same abuse."
But that isn't what you said.
And while I'm on the subject of what is appropriate and inappropriate to say to a special needs individual and their family lets discuss the touching. Was it really necessary to repeatedly stroke and touch Cheyenne's arm and then at the end of the segment pat it as if she is a house pet? The majority of special needs children and individuals I know find being touched to be a real invasion of their personal space. In fact, if someone was to randomly touch one of my sons they would either be met with a stiff head butt or would be inviting an 80 pound child to hop in their lap. Cheyenne is a fourteen year old young lady and when you speak and interact with her you should treat her as you would any teenage girl.
I hope that in the future you will consider your words more carefully. That you will treat all your guests, special needs or neuro-typical, with the respect they deserve.
Sincerely,
Sunday E. Stilwell
Owings Mills, Maryland
