The Language of “Defects”

In the U.S., approximately 150,000 babies are born each year with a serious condition that falls under the general term of “birth defect.” Of course, there is logic in referring to something like spina bifida or Down syndrome as a birth defect. But the language of “defect” isn’t always helpful.

After all, every one of us has something that could be described as a defect. I can’t hit (or throw) a curve ball and I wear eyeglasses to read. If someone expects me to be a National League pitcher who must read lots of scouting reports, I have some serious birth defects. This may seem like a silly example, but the point is that humans have differing abilities. That means we all have various disabilities, too. Why does this matter?

Most of us don’t think of ourselves as having “disabilities.” I think of myself as a person who needs glasses to read or drive, not as a semi-blind man. But we tend to see children in the special education class as “retarded kids,” rather than as kids with Down syndrome.

Whether our language puts the kid before or after her birth defect says a lot about whether we put the kid before or after her birth defect. The person belongs first and the disability second. After all, a child with Down syndrome doesn’t think of herself as a walking birth defect. She thinks of herself as a daughter, granddaughter, niece, friend, student--as a kid. That’s how her parents--and the rest of us--should see her, too.