I wanted to share a story with you that I remembered last night.
When I was in 6th grade I had a male physical education teacher. Apparently no one told him that I had CP and he asked me himself after class one day what was wrong with my leg. I gave him the same robotic response I used with the kids I went to school with and kept on walking. Being so used to having people ask, I never thought a thing about it. When my mother talked to him later in the year she said he told her that after he asked and I answered so briskly he felt really small. I just thought it was funny, since I had already singled him out as a complete ass. I was only 12, but I had his number. My mom was upset that the elementary school hadn't passed this information on to the middle school themselves, at least P.E. teacher to P.E. teacher. Especially since it was such a small community.
Now, I thought that after he had this information, he'd be a little easier on me. I took it for granted that he would understand that I would have obvious limits. What I didn't know was how much of a prick he really was.
At one point in the year the entire class had to do a whole list of things together. It was stuff like push-ups, sit-ups, stretches, pull-ups, and the like. Some of them I could do and some were just down right impossible for me. I sat up and payed closer attention to him one day after he positively humiliated me in front of the whole class. We had to do what was called a sit and reach. I had to sit on the floor with my legs apart, put one hand on top of the other, and keeping my hands together, reach out as far as I could and touch the floor. It doesn't sound difficult and it wasn't. The catch? My right arm is a good 5" or so longer than my left, so I could reach a heck of a lot further with it. I kept reaching out and letting my hands separate. I've never treated my left hand like it was very useful, so I dismissed it and stretched my right as far as it would go. Of course the teacher kept getting on to me for not keeping my hands together and I was jut getting frustrated since I could stretch farther without my left hand holding me back. I was just too embarrassed to speak up about it. When I looked up at the teacher he was smiling in a weird way, but I tried to ignore it, since I wasn't sure what his smile meant.
A day or so later the class got to pull-ups. Now there's something I KNEW I couldn't do even if he had a red hot poker on my butt. I had to do this in front of the entire class and he bullied me when I couldn't do the pull-up underhanded, my left hand won't turn enough that way to allow it, and made fun of me when I still couldn't do even one overhanded. I left the class that day in silent tears. I couldn't believe a teacher, especially a P.E. teacher could be that cruel to a little girl with a disability. I already felt inadequate in physical abilities compared to my classmates. This experience absolutely crushed me and made me hateful and disrespectful towards my teacher from then on out. I never wanted to participate again. I had wonderful experiences in grammar school and was absolutely dumbfounded as to why things had changed.
I had to learn the hard way, and fairly early I feel, that adults are much less accepting and understanding than children. The young ones never made me feel bad or different, but some adults sure liked to point it out and make a big deal about it. I ran into a lot of teachers afterward that seemed to assume that when I was doing poorly it must be because I couldn't learn. It was very confusing, but I learned to deal with it and move on.
This is by no means the normal way of things, I hope, and a lot of things seem to have changed since I was little. Most people seem to be more open minded and better educated in areas of disabilities, but CP seems to be one most people know nothing about. That just makes people make nasty assumptions about another persons condition instead of asking and knowing the truth... like your friend. I wish I could be inside someones' head when I tell them the first time. What would be going on in there I wonder? I'm sure it could go something like this:
"Is it contagious?!"
"Should I apologize for asking?"
"Is she pissed because I asked?"
"Poor thing, she must be miserable."
"Does she understand anything I say to her?"
"Is she mental?"
Oh, I could go on like this forever. LOL
The point of all of this is for me to say to you... there are all kinds of mind sets out there. Some people will embrace your daughter without a single thought of her disability past the first question about it and others will make their relationship about nothing but that. Kids can be cruel, there has been one bad egg that I remember picking on me, but adults are far worse. I educate as many as I can, especially the ones who recoil from me when I say CP, since they are the ones who obviously have the wrong ideas to begin with. It feels good to lecture someone who thinks they know it all.
So, don't stop talking about it. I think someone's reaction tends to show their true character and keeping silent won't make it easier. If you're afraid to be open about it your daughter might be too.
And if all else fails you could just tell them to piss off.
Or something like that.