do not pass

We went to Disneyland a couple of weeks ago with a group of high functioning autistic boys, all buddies from school. They were super well behaved and had a great time together.

When we got there, we did the same thing I did last year, the same thing most parents of special needs children do when they get to the park: we went into the office at “City Hall” where they hand out special assistance passes which allow you to skip the long line and go straight to the Fast Pass lane. But this time it didn’t work.

You see, the Disneyland management has decided to do away with special assistance passes. As of March, if you have an autistic son or a daughter with Downs, that’s too bad for you. You still have to wait on those lines that snake around and loop back on themselves, sometimes as much as an hour to take a three minute ride. No allowances made anymore, not for anyone. If your child can’t wait like that, if his cystic fibrosis makes it so he can’t remain standing that long or his autism makes it so he has no understanding of the concept of delayed gratification and has a meltdown right there on line, well, that’s just too bad, isn’t it? You shouldn’t come to the park. You don’t belong there and you shouldn’t try.

I sort of understand it. Sort of. I know many people took advantage of the pass, exaggerating their condition, making up problems, using the loophole. You could say we did. I mean, Damian is capable of standing on line, probably as much as any other child his age. Though it can take a toll on him that it wouldn’t on a typically developing child: he might space out and not come back for hours. He might become remote and withdrawn or become so fidgety and sensory-seeking he can’t concentrate anymore. And all for a ride that’s supposed to be fun. But mostly, yeah, he probably can wait on at least a few lines.

My internal justification last year for the pass was twofold: we’ve paid the price over and over for having a special needs child. We’ve had to work harder, run faster, worry more, and spend more money too. So now we finally get a perk? Hell yeah, let’s take it! We – and he – have earned it. Also? The rides, especially the roller coasters, are amazing occupational therapy. Last year at Legoland, after going on his very first roller coaster ride ever, Damian went to a playground that would have been impossibly challenging (rope ladders and shaky bridges and such) and jumped right in. His body was more regulated than I’d ever seen it. All because of a roller coaster. That makes the special passes logical, even for a mildly affected child like him.

Imagine a more severely affected child who can’t enjoy the park at all without bypassing the long lines and who could reap enormous benefits from the rides. For that child, the pass is not a plus, it’s a necessity.

Canceling the special assistance pass is yet another example of discrimination against those who need help the most but are, it seems, least likely to get it. A friend said she wouldn’t be back. I’ll have to think twice.

Posted by Tamar at May 23, 2004 10:06 PM