Here’s why all this matters. Presuming competence is a fine concept, but hard to execute in practice. Our society and its people are deeply steeped in ableist concepts relying on assessing skills and deficits, intelligence and abilities, based on highly prejudicial concepts of normal. No matter how enlightened one wants to be, it’s hard to go about presuming competence without evidence. So when my son cheers for Rey, Moana, or Harry, he’s not only showing me that he’s engaging with stories, but also telling me to remember that he’s competent in all kinds of other ways he can’t yet prove.
Sometime last fall, I told my son his usual good-night superhero story, which he capped off with “the end.” Then he grinned, and said, “once time boy. Hero.” Lying on his back, he raised his arms into the sky and made superhero flying sounds (a kind of whooshing sound). “Nico. The end.”J.K. Rowling read it.
This is so beautiful, it made me cry. https://t.co/TA9FHqVDyh— J.K. Rowling (@jk_rowling) January 13, 2017
Additional pieces on narrative and my kids:@Lollardfish Thank you for sharing yours. Give my love to both your children x— J.K. Rowling (@jk_rowling) January 13, 2017
- I transcribed a superhero story that my daughter told to my son.
- I took a walk with my son and we saw some deer, a story with pictures!
- I wrote about narrative deployments of disability in literature.