Katie's Arm

My mom told the story of when she and my sister-in-law were Christmas shopping when my daughter Katie was 10 or 12. They ran across a very cheap deal on a hooked-rug kit. Mom wondered if this would make a good Christmas present for Katie; Tina too questioned the wisdom of a latch-hook rug for Katie. Turned out, though, that Mom was worried about a dust-catcher for an asthmatic child, whereas Tina wasn't sure whether Katie could DO latch-hooking. Mom was taken aback at first. Why wouldn't Katie be able to do latch-hook? Well, because of her arm, Aunt Tina wondered. (Tina was still kind of new to the family at that point.)

You see, Katie was born with only half her left arm. No hand on that side, although you can see the little dents and shapes on the end of her left arm where the hand and fingers would have developed. I often forget that people here don't know if her missing arm was from an accident or a birth defect. She was only 3 when we moved to our former home and church and met all our homeschooling friends there. But now, with Katie being an adult, people are polite and don't ask the questions that were easy to ask when she was a wee one.

It's hard for us to remember that some people see Katie as handicapped. We have all sorts of stories about her abilities. Of all our kids, she was the one who learned to unscrew jar lids, work snaps and zippers, and unbutton buttons at the youngest age.

There was the story of meeting some new homeschoolers at a state conference. They lived only 20 minutes away, and we spent hours with them on the weekend of the conference and several shorter visits at home. Later, we were planning another get-together. The morning before they came over to play, Abbey (the friend) said something about Katie's only having one arm. The mom told her kids to knock off the stupid stories. WHY would they make up something so outlandish??? The kids argued: "But, Mom, she DOES only have one arm." "That's silly. I've seen her. She's not missing an arm." When they arrived, the kids made sure to point out to Mom Katie's left arm. Even then, the mom didn't believe Katie had one arm: there she was, sweeping out the garage. "Mom! Look again!" Wow. She really does have only half an arm on that side! But she can do everything. You'd never notice the kid is handicapped! Indeed.

Here's another funny story that Katie told me about her paper route one day. She said she reached into her bag to pull out a paper to toss onto a porch. It slipped out of her hand. She reached in again, and again missed grabbing the paper. On her third failed attempt to yank a paper out of her carrier-bag, she realized why she couldn't pick up the paper. She was using her left arm. Well, I figure if SHE could momentarily forget that she didn't have a hand on that arm, then I can't be scolded for the times I forget she has only one.

Long before we moved here, Kantor was trying to figure out one day which kids were mine. He didn't seem them often. I was trying to describe Katie by hair color and length, height, build, prettiness, glasses, and whatever other identifying markers I could think of. Finally it crossed my mind to say, "Oh, she's the one missing her left arm." Oh! Of course! Then he knew right away which kid I meant. But he said he felt like a jerk for having that be the thing by which he finally identified her, and he heckled me for not using "one-armed" as the first thing to describe her. Sorry, but Katie's lack-of-arm is such a complete non-issue that I forget that other people might notice it.

Although Katie has run into a few things as a mom that are a little harder with one arm [much harder to multi-task: nursing a baby, reading to a toddler, and making supper all at the same time] I think Katie's biggest "handicap" is in how other people see her. When she went job-hunting the first time, employers didn't see her. They saw a big fat emptiness where her hand was supposed to have been. I wish I could say "their loss." (And that would be true.) But it's also hard for a person to overcome the manager's First Impression, and thus not be given the chance to show how very capable she is.