opinion 11
high tide oct. 28, 2022
Voice column:
Have you heard of Kabuki Syndrome? by Daniella Gross
W
hile my mom was on a walk to the grocery store with my brother, a woman stopped abruptly in front of my brother's wheelchair, staring into his eyes with confusion and disgust. In the awkward silence my mom asked, “Isn’t he beautiful?” to which the woman responded “No, he’s ugly.” The lack of empathy in society sometimes gets to me. When I walk in public with my brother, all eyes are on him. People don’t know how to act when they see a teen the size of a toddler in a wheelchair making loud grunting noises or happy squeals. They don’t know that staring at him profusely makes us uncomfortable. Being low profile with him in public is almost impossible. Growing up beside my 12-year-old brother Niko has never been easy. Niko suffers from a rare disorder called Kabuki Syndrome. If you haven’t heard of it, I’m not the least bit surprised. Kabuki Syndrome is an extremely uncommon disease, with only one in 32,000 children diagnosed in a general population and is often defined by the unique facial features that Kabuki kids are born with, which resemble the makeup that traditional Japanese Kabuki Theater performers wear. My brother, being that rare one child in 32,000, was diagnosed with Kabuki three years after his birth. Niko has a variety of symptoms, the most prominent being an aortic valve dysfunction, dysautonomia, neurological dysfunctions, neurostorming and being non-ambulatory and nonverbal. The list goes on and gets added to constantly. But when others see people like my brother, they are always quick to judge, or are empathetic in all the wrong ways. They either don’t see that despite the pain he suffers from, he is always happy, or they don’t treat him like a normal human being, confining him to his limitations instead of seeing his potential. At school, I constantly cringe when someone calls a peer a cripple or retarded. People don’t find it offensive and think it’s just a hilarious way to make fun of their friends. They don’t understand it’s a derogatory term used against the disabled community, directly insulting those who need extra help physically or mentally. As the sibling of a special needs child, it can be challenging. I often internalize the struggles I face at home with Niko, as not many of my friends are able to relate to my situation. When my parents are busy, I change my brother's diapers, dress him, do his laundry, feed him, give him medications, brush his teeth and take him on walks. I help as much as I can because he isn’t able to do simple tasks. For all my responsibilities, though, the most mentally challenging thing about being a sibling to Niko is having to watch him in pain. His neuro storms— [A hyperactive response of the sympathetic nervous system, in most cases caused by TBI]—are painful and last a week, occurring every two weeks. This is why it pains me when instead of treating him with curiosity and inclusion, people treat him with disdain and disgust. To me, my brother is perfect in every way; he’s all I know. Niko likes ice cream and pizza, but hates vegetables. He likes peaceful walks in his wheelchair and enjoys music. When I sing him to sleep or tuck him in, he shows his love by giving me the biggest hug anyone could ever imagine. At the end of the day, he is just like you and me. If people could see what I see instead of assuming and judging by how he looks, they would see a beautiful boy.
Like by Elise Haulund
it or
Business Review describes using filler words as a way to “hold the conversational floor” while one is thinking, so if non-male individuals are more likely to be interrupted, reducing pauses in their speech is a defense mechanism against losing speaking time. It is harmful but far too common to associate stereotypically feminine traits—spending more time on one’s appearance, enjoying shopping for clothes, watching romantic TV shows and yes, using “Valley Speak”—with a lack of intelligence. Not to mention, those speaking English as a second language may use “like” more often to gather their thoughts in a language they’re less familiar with. Following prescriptive linguistics “almost always has an aspect of social gatekeeping,” according to the University of Pennsylvania, in that “arbitrary features of language are used to block social advancement.” Weaponizing someone else’s use of “like” is simply a contrived way to demean them, and it’s no coincidence that this is done so often against women and non-native speakers. It is true that academic or professional writing and even speaking warrant more formality than “like” suggests, but acting like it reduces the elegance of the English language is not only pretentious b u t
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"Like" as a filler word is a testament to the constant evolution of language, instead of a downfall of lazy t’s like, so annoyspeakers ing when linguis-
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tic purists impose their prescriptive grammar dogma on the speech patterns of the masses. Cuz like, language is a constantly adapting and ever-changing construct we use to describe our unique experiences, and like, why do we listen to those elitist academics when they tell us how to speak? Gag me with a spoon! It’s hard to go a day without hearing “like” sprinkled throughout speech. Despite its ubiquity, the improper “like” is widely considered to weaken someone’s credibility, making them sound unsmart or unassertive. The reality, though, is that “like” shouldn’t be viewed that way; filler words certainly do suggest a lack of confidence in what one is saying, but to construe “like,” as it exists in today’s lexicon, as filler per se is false. Traditionally, “like” means to find something attractive or be similar to something. The slang-usage of “like” has other functions: quotative (“I was like, ‘____’”), filler, hedge (to indicate ambiguity), cushioning and as a discourse particle (to emphasize). “Like” has become its own complex pillar of today’s grammar. If inserting “like” into a sentence really is just the hesitation of an unsure speaker. It wouldn’t affect the meaning. And yet, it does. “They have 20 billion dollars” is different from “They have, like, 20 billion dollars,” because it indicates the ambiguity, approximation and/or hyperbole of the statement. “Like” is a modal marker—a grammatical cue that indicates degrees of reality or truth. Prescriptive linguistics refers to the rules for how language should be used according to the most pretentious folks in academia (as opposed to descriptive linguistics—how language is actually used). So, following the prescriptive agenda would lead one to scoff at the pervasion
The constant evolution of language is in fact one of its most unique beauties, not a herald of its downfall. ELISE HAULUND SENIOR o f “like” throughout twenty-first century English, for it is
n o t within the canonical rules of English. Today’s informal use of “like” first emerged with the Beatniks, a 1950s counterculture movement, but it was popularized in the 1980s with the Valley girl stereotype. In 1982, Frank Zappa produced the song “Valley Girl” with his daughter, Moon Zappa, poking fun at the materialistic, young, upper-class, White women of the San Fernando Valley. In the song,
Moon satirically blabs about, “like, the Galleria, and like, all these really great shoe stores.” Even though the mocking of “like” was first directed toward the wealthy women of Southern California, it is inherently problematic to ascribe intelligence level to any language pattern. With “like,” the effect of that can lean into misogyny. An online article published by "The Atlantic" called “Actually, Literally, What Your Crutch Word Says About You,” ascribes saying “like” to meaning that “you are a teenaged girl who smacks her gum a lot while talking and, like, OMG, can you believe you said that?” Although most can’t avoid at least the occasional “like,” the poster-child of apparently dumb “like”-sayers is undoubtedly a teen girl. Why is this word, which many associate with being a superficial airhead, attached to teen girls so often? One of the most common usages of “like” is as a filler word, which may explain why the reigning image of those who say “like” is female. Research by Northwestern University has found that in professional and personal conversations, women are interrupted more than men. The Harvard
downright inaccurate. New generations can’t help but challenge the status quo; it’s the natural course of things. ‘Kids these days’ will always create their own distinctive ways to move through the world. Language plays a central and vital role in the human experience and thus is not spared from generational changes. In the 1600s, “thou” was the standard, but today seldom does a modern person address another as “thou.” According to the University of Pennsylvania, “Generation by generation, pronunciations evolve, new words are borrowed or invented, the meaning of old words drifts and morphology develops or decays.” New language is nothing new. The way “like” has been transformed to encompass so many meanings and nuances is not a disaster; it’s evolutionary linguistics happening in our own lives. Attempting to stymie the inevitable changes in language is futile and foolish. The constant evolution of language is in fact one of its most unique beauties, not a herald of its downfall. So like, let’s embrace it. ILLUSTRATION BY LOLA DIEHL