In my practice I repeatedly meet adolescents and young people whose lives have been limited not so much by their impairment or poor health as by the psychological trauma of not being accepted by their parents for who they are. With their differences and limitations, but also with their abilities and skills, with the fact that they can still achieve something despite their handicap, and most importantly, that in any case they are their parents' children just like any other child.
First story
"I don't go home for birthday celebrations. All the relatives gather there, and I would have to be at home alone," said a boy of about twenty with multiple malformations. When I asked why he couldn't go to a family celebration with everyone else, he shrugged: "They never took me there. They are ashamed of me."
This young man came to my office for the first time brought by cleaners, because they had seemed like he was wandering the corridors as if he were on drugs. They were right. The main reason he sought solace in substances was, first and foremost, his appearance. He had not come to terms with how he looked and had a very negative attitude toward himself. He sought friends among homeless people and others who were, in one way or another, socially excluded. In later meetings it became clearer and clearer that his appearance had never been truly accepted by his parents, especially throughout his life. The staff at the institution even told me that when he was small, they only brought him home after dark.
Yet his handicap is not so severe as to exclude the possibility of working and living independently. Another client with a similar diagnosis works as a stock clerk in a supermarket chain, and another works as a gardener; both are lucky, because their parents support and believe in them.
Second story
"When I'm with my parents on weekends, I do not go outside. Dad does not want neighbors to see me in a wheelchair," a girl with limited mobility in all limbs told me. In childhood, thanks to rehabilitation, she began to walk with crutches, but later her health deteriorated. Her parents have never accepted this fact, and they continue to play the game "our daughter walks" in front of people around them, even at the cost that the girl is completely isolated when she stays home. In fact, they could be proud of her: although the initial prognosis included intellectual disability, she is now reaching, with significant effort, even up to graduation, which for her represents a major milestone—a real chance to get a job. Still, her parents attach almost no importance to her studies. They do not believe she can ever work, and in that conviction they raise her strictly. The result is very low self-esteem, almost no trust in her own abilities, and fear of trying anything her parents do not approve of. A young person who, according to school results and psychological testing, is capable of simpler work in administration or, for example, in a reception desk and independent living in a supported apartment, therefore stays unnecessarily in the classic "institutional" way of life.
What both stories have in common is the rejection of these children by their families and the failure to respect their individuality, differences and abilities. Outwardly, nothing may be visible—the parents still visit the child or bring them home on weekends—but behind that can hide a completely different reality.
The most common signs of such rejection include limiting contact with neighbors and relatives, preventing independent stay outside, blocking the formation of ties with local people and friends, not participating in family events, preventing expressions of independence, denying achievements, and unwillingness to try to integrate in their place of residence. It also includes long-term hiding or concealing the child’s defect, lowering the level of meeting needs compared to non-disabled siblings (for example, a non-disabled sibling gets paid support club, while the disabled child is told they "don't need it"), showing that disability is something to be ashamed of, and obstructing efforts to live a normal life—trying to find a partner, attempting to have children, starting employment.
In the approach to these adolescents from the position of a social service employee, a judgmental stance and negative comments about parents should not prevail. Almost all children and a certain group of adults tend to idealize their parents and adopt their opinions without reservation, and in such cases they perceive staff's negative attitude toward them as criticism of themselves. A more sensible approach is often to explain that there can always be more than one perspective on the same issue. If a client, however, expresses criticism toward their own rejection by parents or their behaviour toward him or her and asks for the staff's opinion, it is of course appropriate for an employee to convey, in a proper and proportionate manner, what he or she personally thinks.
An important step is also supporting the client in the attempt to try new things, even with the risk of failing. These clients need to be taught that failure does not mean catastrophe—it is always better to try and fail than to make no attempt at all. Often it is necessary to work on self-perception: rejected children may feel they are bad or evil because they do not “fit” their parents’ expectations (and often they cannot meet those expectations anyway). A common pattern is also a relentless and futile effort to please parents, to win their approval at any cost. Paradoxically, the more the rejected child does for his or her parents, the less respect and recognition from them they usually receive. A strong and unreciprocated emotional bond to parents sometimes prevents recognition of positive evaluation and acceptance from other people; at other times the client has a constant need to reassure themselves that they are not doing badly or making mistakes. Understanding and a respectful approach is the foundation that can fully repair or at least ease the damage caused by rejection within the family, but even then long-term psychotherapeutic care is usually still needed.
Mgr. Petra Štarková psychologist and publicist
The professional monthly Sociální služby is the most widely circulated periodical in the field of social services in the Czech Republic. Its publisher is the Association of Providers of Social Services of the Czech Republic (APSS ČR), the largest professional organization bringing together providers of all types and kinds of social services in the Czech Republic. Its membership now includes more than 720 organizations, which means over 1600 registered services.
Cover and content of the issue HERE (PDF, 290KB)
The journal Sociální služby arose in 2009 through the transformation of the previous APSS ČR Bulletin. It is published ten times a year, with 36–48 pages of A4 format, in a print run of 3,500–4,000 copies for about 16,000 readers among providers, founders, service users, representatives of public administration, students and university teachers in both the Czech Republic and Slovakia.
More information can be found on the websites http://www.socialnisluzby.eu and http://www.apsscr.cz.
Orders for member organizations of APSS ČR are handled directly by the publisher or editorial office at the address: Kotnovská 137, 390 05 Tábor, Czech Republic, tel./fax: +420 381 213 332, mobile +420 606 751 156 or +420 606 832 551, e-mail: redakce@apsscr.cz.
Previous issues: Whole issue - January 2010 (PDF, 4,54 MB)