A Few Thoughts on Gifts

Ruminating over the past few days, I find myself chewing over what John McKnight taught me about gifts. I first came across one of his stories on YouTube, long before I met him, and it resonated with me highly. [With me it was more ‘gift of the gab’ than blarney, however…] For the British, the whole ‘gifts’ things sits uncomfortably at the hippy-fuzzy-pinky-feely end of knowledge development - a little too LA to be taken seriously in professional circles. Let’s face it we’re far more comfortable talking about strengths, capacities, or skills. However, these are not the same – and it’s not just a terminology thing – there’s a world of difference when it comes to meaning, and how we treat each other.  Bear with me, these ideas are not as straightforward as they first seem.

In a Disability Equality Training session recently we were exploring the character of disablism. More specifically I had asked the group to name the stereotypes they thought were associated with disabled people in our culture. One learner said 'some people expect some kind of exceptional talent'. We talked around the subject, and things like exceptional vision, super sonic hearing or counting cards were mentioned (as in the film Rainman). 

This got me thinking about the difference between giftedness and gifts. For example, the idea that some people are gifted and others are not.  I have to be honest, I do get a little peeved when people exclaim thoughts along the lines of "if you were not disabled you wouldn't be such a great …”.  Or another classic: “you are very good at ….”, leaving the “for a disabled person” unsaid. When people feel the need to qualify the compliment it losses meaning. I sometimes feel I’m being told that the negative experiences I’ve had to endure have an up side - giftedness. And while I’m not saying human suffering is not a common experience to us all, there’s a hint sometimes that for marginalised groups it’s something we should not share. We called upon to strike the happy pose: the courageous crip triumphant over adversity. I’m not denying that some of my experiences have led to a great amount of learning. However, if with age comes wisdom, I’m as likely as anyone else to repeat the same mistakes! [Particularly those that were fun the first time!] Furthermore, I do not think that victimisation, discrimination or inequality can be justified by the success of a few who get over it. Many aren’t so fortunate, dignity, self-esteem and lives are lost. Indeed, if inflicting pain was such an effective method of teaching maybe we should bring back caning?

The problem isn't that there are not many people appreciate what I'm good at – there are!!!  But that a few cannot see my strengths at all, and another few seem to want to find a quick positive flip side to my experience of the wider issues. This mystifies me! Surely imposing a positive spin on someone else’s experience goes further to disempower them - to hush a voice that may be articulating pain. It is my experience that while having an impairment, condition or difference can be painful, difficult and/or debilitating, they are not always all-consuming. However, other people’s mindlessness is occasionally infuriating. By and large, there are many situations in which I don’t think about being disabled. I’m just ‘Mole’: the professional, the neighbour, the friend, the cook, the philosopher, the cyclist, the gardener…  

I do think that living in a world where inequality exists is a cause for outrage. But being unaware of these wider issues increases our likelihood to say things without thinking. Reacting to people’s pain, by highlighting accepted assumptions or miss-information further dismisses the acknowledgement of unfairness and its impact on others.

People can only succeed where they chose to try hard, persevere and spend effort.  It is possible that some people have exceptional talents, however for the rest of us there is a need to work hard to be good at the things we call strengths. Where disabled people excel they show courage, grit and determination – but it sometimes comes at a greater cost. In my experience our gifts have as much variety as there are interest to be had. You don't have to be disabled to show determination or grit – but it helps. More subtlety, I don't think there's a true choice about courage, it's carry on or give up, more of a lack of option. 

The problem with jumping to a flip-side of what we perceive to be negative is that we typically focus on the wrong thing – we miss the gift! To my mind a gift has certain qualities that strengths/capacities do not:  it is chosen freely, it elicits passion, it has meaning and may be shared. As I heard recently: 'ironing isn't a gift if you have no particular wish to do it in the first place' - however much you may excel at it - loving it assumes a different quality. I enjoy cooking, I love making someone a meal! 

For me writing is a gift, where ironing isn’t. To be honest it’s more of a compulsion, there is little pleasure until it is done. The pleasure is in the sharing, and without readers it would be meaningless (I thank you!). It has taken years of practice; I had no affinity with the activity to begin with, merely a wish to get things on paper. I was the musician making noise, the painter creating blobs, there was no magic!! Please, also accept that writing takes more time and effort if you shake and have dyslexia – that’s even before you’ve considered the work behind the content. For most people writing can be initially difficult and time is needed in order for it to become easier. For those of us with impairments, this doesn't mean it can't be done, but it may require much more effort - which, let's face it is tiring. Luckily, I don’t mind that kind of tired – it is a worthwhile tired.  I really do appreciate that people see my writing as a gift! But I'd equally like them to appreciate that it is a difficult thing to do well for any author - not just the disabled ones!  I think it is important to see the effort is part of the gift. (I care who reads this, and I am humbled that they do – I thank you).

I also see cooking, philosophical conversation, speaking French and gardening as gifts, as I share them with others. I do not see myself as more clever, committed or assiduous - I rather enjoy spending time doing these things – that’s why I’m good, I have had a lot of practice. If these things give other people pleasure then it doubles my satisfaction. Doing it for no reason would still give me enjoyment, but these are live acts, the real pleasure is that they touch other people.

I think people can use a bad experience to teach others. However, for someone else to gloss over the injustice, rather than hear it, denies the opportunity to gift. These opportunities are commonplace – but need to be acknowledged (An opportunity).  The gift of the listener, to hear and understand, and the gift of the survivor to share their journey – if not wisdom. The truly empathetic act is to suspend expectation, before the exchange, to appreciate the change it may bring!  Gifts are not attributes, they stand against growing individualism, they help breach the void between us. Creating the relationships in which they can manifest takes time, we often need to wait to see how we can give and what to receive. More than a little time perhaps – days, weeks or months?

 When I hear John McKnight talk of gifts, I hear the subtlety behind his words. I see the joy of exchange, the love of giving in the everyday. Where the sense of other people’s happiness is return enough. I don't think it's about finding a flip side, especially if that blinds us to the greater injustice, but it’s about really appreciating the personal cost of what's being given.

Of all the things I am good at, it is the ones that change shared experience that matter most to me. Where I have done good it is because I cared, I had passion and I was willing to persevere – effort not cost.