"C" is for Compassion

I read this request for advice in the Business section of the NYT a couple of weeks ago and Roxane Gay's reply did not sit well with me. I wrote a letter to the editor in response, but it was not published, so I'm publishing it here. I hope it doesn't read as shaming or "calling out," which tends to result in defensiveness rather than having the desired effect of increased awareness and sensitivity, but I have to admit that my loyalty lies squarely with parents of kids with special needs, not their inconvenienced colleagues, bosses or employers. 

For most of us, the world is divided between those who get "it," that is, what it's like to cope with the day-to-day stress of having a child with disabilities, and those who don't. The ones who don't get it aren't necessarily those who have typically developing children, or those who have no children at all, but those who simply lack compassion for fellow humans when we are suffering. Our ability to feel compassion for others waxes and wanes. I don't mean to imply that I, or anyone, should be expected to never have a lapse in our ability to feel for others, but I do need to draw attention to such lapses when they negatively impact parents of kids with special needs and come from influential writers with a wide readership. 

Every week I talk to parents who contend with seeing their child excluded, teased, or ignored, who had to take a leave of absence from their job to stay home with a medically fragile child, or spend weeks and months in the NICU with their baby. One of the many wishes I have for those parents is that when their colleagues are called to fill in for them at work, they respond with more compassion than a simple, reflexive "not my problem."  

Below is the reader's question, followed by Gay's answer, and lastly, my letter to the editor.

A Delicate Situation

I work with a person who has a child who is special needs. This person is out of the office because of unplanned absences a lot. Because of this, the person’s work is left to me and my team. We are already swamped, and it is hard for us to manage our own work plus take on this person’s work.

We were going to approach our manager to discuss this additional work, but we are not sure how to do this without seeming insensitive. Any advice?

— Anonymous

Handling the workload when a colleague has personal circumstances that require unexpected absences is always a challenge. No one is at fault here. It’s just a complicated situation for which there are no easy answers.

Have you tried discussing the workload issue with your colleague? Is there a way they could compensate for the absences to reduce the burden on the rest of the team? Is there a way the team could work with your colleague to equitably distribute the additional work when they are absent?

The way forward is through open, frank dialogue and a willingness to find a workable solution that doesn’t place an undue burden on anyone. You don’t seem insensitive, and if you do need to raise this issue with your manager, I am confident that you will be as considerate in outlining the issue as you were in asking this question.

*  *  *

Roxane Gay’s response to her reader’s question about how to cope with the extra workload brought on by a colleague’s parenting responsibilities was a missed opportunity to acknowledge the unique, often long-term challenges those of us who care for children with disabilities face. She demonstrates empathy for the reader and offers praise for their sensitivity, but she fails to challenge them to imagine what it might be like to juggle a job and parenting a child with special needs (was “a child who is special needs” a typo?) in a country where many of us feel like we are on our own much of the time. 

 

Part of why it took me seventeen years to go back to work after my son had a stroke as an infant is because I feared judgment from employers and co-workers for being unreliable, indolent, or lacking focus. I knew there would be times when I would get to work late, leave early, and take personal days for medical and therapy appointments. Everyone knows raising kids costs money. Raising kids with disabilities generally costs more. The stakes for losing a job, especially if it’s linked to a family’s health insurance, are higher. My hope is that Gay and her readers will bestow compassion on parents of kids with special needs, as many of us worry a great deal about being a burden to others, yet feel we have little ability to control or influence how secure our jobs are.