Several weeks ago, I received a call from a friend who lamented that he was lonely; since the beginning of the lockdown he has been separated from his wife due to pandemic restrictions. We had a long chat, which I hope alleviated some of his despair. All of us have experienced some level of loneliness—some more, some less. But there is one segment of our community that experiences most acutely feelings of loneliness and isolation on a daily basis. These are our children and grandchildren who have spent their years in schools apart from the mainstream due to special needs or disabilities. In school it is most often their academic needs that are addressed with occasional organized group social events; but outside of the classroom or school environment they are isolated or even shunned. (It should be noted that there are a number of organizations and programs that try to fill this social void, but there is still much that can and should be done on an individual basis.) Even after many are mainstreamed into the regular school system or programs, they still yearn for real friendships—one-on-one lasting relationships that extend beyond occasional encounters at special events. My heart aches for the child who sits at home waiting for a call, while their siblings have play dates on a Shabbos, Yom Tov or a vacation day. Even more discouraging and disturbing is being turned down or ignored when they reach out to call one of us. Do we encourage our children to maintain relationships outside of the school environment? Do we open up our social circles to include these individuals and their families?
During an interview about the recent racial crisis, Kareem Abdul Jabbar was asked if he could think of possible solutions; he suggested that each person should seek out someone different from himself/herself and work to really get to know that person. The implication is clear—we need to step out of our comfort zone. We need to break down walls/barriers between ourselves and others. We should not insulate ourselves or our children. We need not be “afraid” of someone who is different from us. There is a “human” being inside of those with disabilities or special needs that longs for social contact.
A few years ago I attended a dinner for the Kulanu organization. In the video presentation, one of the teenage clients said, “Please don’t turn away from me when you see me when you are walking down the street.”
Reaching out can range from a simple “Hello” to establishing an ongoing relationship including play dates or outings. My neighbor Dave Goldschmidt realized he could fill a void in the life of a young man with special needs, the son of a family friend. On a regular basis he took this young man for outings to the Yonkers Casino. Dave had no special training, but just saw a need and tried to help. Not long ago that young man, Donny Hain, z”l, passed away. As many of you know, he was the son of Bunny and YBD”L Jimmy, z”l. Recently I spoke to Bunny during her recovery from the coronavirus. She told me that when they first moved to Teaneck in the ’70s, there was very little community support or resources for a child like Donny. Fortunately, we have come a long way since then. Yet, Bunny pointed out that there was still something that troubled Donny and the family. Donny was a friendly guy and often greeted people, even those he didn’t know. Some would return the greeting but many would say nothing and some even turned away and shunned him. In response, Donny had planned to print up cards that had a special message on them and then hand them out to the people he would greet. The message on the card was simple: Smile! Make My Day!
Aaron is a long-time resident of Teaneck. He retired from IBM a few years ago. When not spending time with his grandchildren, he sings with the Shirah Chorale at the JCC and enjoys learning with the Bais Midrash of Teaneck.
