Cloudy with a Chance of Argh

This morning I read this over at Love That Max:

Group Therapy: Would you let your son with special needs go to a dance with this girl?

Short answer: No. Gaaarhg.

Long answer? While I AM running a (haphazard) blog and should be writing my own ragey screeds about special needs kids being used oh-so-innocently for the aggrandizement and inspiration of normally developing kids and adults, I think Tina Fey expressed it nicely in that early section of Bossypants where she’s talking about her scar, and people who ask her about it:

Then there’s another sort of person who thinks it makes them seem brave or sensitive or wonderfully direct to ask me about it right away. They ask with quiet, feigned empathy, “How did you get your scar?” The grossest move is when they say they’re only curious because “it’s so beautiful.” Ugh. Disgusting. They might as well walk up and say, “May I be amazing at you?” To these folks let me be clear. I’m not interested in acting out a TV movie with you where you befriend a girl with a scar. An Oscar-y Spielberg movie where I play a mean German with a scar? Yes.

(Though I do have a copy of Bossypants and I receive no compensation for mentioning it, I did not transcribe the above myself. I found it on a website titled “The Real Story Behind, Tina Fey’s Scar”, punctuation verbatim. It’s a pretty rad site, obviously.)

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