Heather Lanier: "Good" and "bad" are incomplete stories we tell ourselves
Heather Lanier illuminates truths about the human condition that speak to both the head and the heart. Full bio
Double-click the English transcript below to play the video.
about a farmer who lost his horse.
"Oh, that's too bad."
"Good or bad, hard to say."
and brings with it seven wild horses.
"Oh, that's so good!"
and says, "Good or bad, hard to say."
rides one of the wild horses,
"Oh, that's terrible luck."
"Good or bad, hard to say."
knocking on people's doors,
and they pass him by.
"Ooh, that's great luck!"
"Good or bad, hard to say."
looking on the bright side
to label a situation,
incomplete stories that we tell ourselves.
to the story of good or bad,
to truly see a situation.
and loosen my grip
with curiosity and wonder.
wholeheartedly what was good.
was some version of a superbaby,
who possessed not a single flaw
flying into her superhero future.
had a super-high-functioning,
would help me make not just a good baby,
she weighed 4 pounds, 12 ounces,
two possible explanations
to lose the thread of his logic:
had an ultra-rare chromosomal condition
of her fourth chromosome.
with her syndrome
delays and disabilities.
of the farmer.
unequivocally bad to me.
I felt gripped by despair,
that all of this was tragic.
is much more fluid,
this mysterious person who was my kid,
would bounce her tiny body up and down
the most stunning Lake Tahoe blue,
into other people's eyes.
hold her head up like other babies,
intent eye contact.
aware baby I've ever seen."
of her calm, attentive presence,
over to our house to work with Fiona
to wake her neurology up.
my daughter's body,
visit our house that first year,
they thought was bad about my kid.
Fiona started using her right hand
on my child's left hand.
not to use this hand very often,
the fingers on that hand.
we should devise a splint,
to actually use those fingers,
into some position that looked normal.
to realize a few things.
my kid had some bad therapists.
a red pill or a blue pill,
my daughter's differences as bad;
that her therapists called,
when they could say about a kid,
or 'autistic' or 'different.'"
was the path that erased
a disastrous pursuit,
my daughter had rare blueprints.
to be like other people.
I could drop my story
and developmental delays and disabilities
that a more able-bodied life was better.
about what made a life good or bad
my daughter's life as it unfolded
out of the side of her mouth
her body onto her belly.
and rolled back onto her back,
to do it all over again,
under a coffee table.
she'd gotten stuck there,
that her eye had been on all along:
pulling up to stand and toddling around,
limber freedom of mobility.
was a baby yanking on an electric cord,
that when I released my grip
and see what it was.
of the human experience.
to a new state in America,
batch of therapists.
all that was wrong with my kid.
as problems to fix.
as normal as possible;
be as independent as possible
however that looked for her.
this open attitude about disabilities.
"birth defects,"
were objects on a factory line.
had a baby with Down syndrome.
about a suicidal wheelchair user,
wheelchair users tell us
decide what lives are not worth living.
children's hospital
to a lifesaving kidney transplant
of disabilities as bad manifests
insidious counterstory --
with intellectual disabilities are good
to teach us something magical,
and always sweet.
who's one of God's special children,
and the communication device
in my daughter's life
in angel's wings and a halo
don't experience the sticky complexities
especially as a baby,
that any other kid does,
shoved her two-year-old sister.
to annoy the hell out of you,
and complexity that that title brings,
mozzarella cheese sticks
can consume in one day --
my culture's beliefs
and iPad app to communicate,
I handed Fiona her iPad,
or little square on her iPad app.
that my expectations were way too high,
to hit those tiny targets.
as she gradually learned
words she loved,
that her mouth couldn't yet say.
less-fun words, prepositions --
at a dining room table
ABOUT THE SPEAKER
Heather Lanier - Essayist, poetHeather Lanier illuminates truths about the human condition that speak to both the head and the heart.
Why you should listen
As an essayist and a poet, Heather Lanier's work spans a range of subjects, from parenting and disability to pop culture and religion. She is the author of two award-winning poetry chapbooks, The Story You Tell Yourself and Heart-Shaped Bed in Hiroshima, along with the nonfiction book, Teaching in the Terrordome: Two Years in West Baltimore with Teach For America, which MacArthur Genius Deborah Meier called "a heart-wrenching … much-needed account." She has received an Ohio Arts Council Individual Excellence Award and a Vermont Creation Grant.
In her viral Vela Magazine essay, "SuperBabies Don't Cry," Lanier chronicles her daughter's diagnosis of a rare chromosomal syndrome and explores the ways pregnant women are pressured to create perfect humans. As a mother and a disability advocate, she shines a light on ableist attitudes, encourages readers to see disability as an aspect of diversity, and marvels at the strange beauty of being human. Her book about raising her daughter is forthcoming from Penguin Press and Piatkus / Little, Brown UK. She writes a related blog here, and teaches writing at Southern Vermont College.
Heather Lanier | Speaker | TED.com