Free The Four Walls of My Freedom by Donna Thomson

that she will never be able to have a flourishing human life, despite our best efforts.” 17 Nussbaum concludes that in a just society, Sesha would not have been born with disabilities; scientific advancements would have removed her handicaps. So, Sesha is excluded from Martha Nussbaum’s Capability Approach because she will never attain adequate functional ability to be “human.”
    Kittay may be a great philosopher, but she is also a mother. She retaliates by describing her daughter’s life as “richly human and full of dignity.” She continues: “We need to work hard to see that her life is not tragic.” 18 Over the years, I have met many other parents of children with disabilities. Not one of these parents sees their child as tragic or would wish them to be seen as such. Nicholas, Sesha, Jamie and Arthur are adored for being their essential selves. They are celebrated for living their lives richly in the face of daily struggles. This is not tragic; it is a call for understanding about the role of love in families and the need for community support.

CHAPTER EIGHT
    Some Mother’s Child
    A friend who is a priest in the Church of England once remarked that “God’s gift to us is being. Our gift to God is becoming.” This idea rings true in the context of Reinders’, Pailin’s and Kittay’s ideas. The essential worth of another is received love: God’s love, a mother’s love, a father’s love, a sibling’s love — it doesn’t matter. This love is the great equalizer. It is the core of our humanity and our humaneness. It is no coincidence that the worst insults in most languages are against one’s mother. The fundamental insult is not against an individual’s mother per se, but against the idea of received love from someone whose love is unequivocal. An insult against one’s mother can be interpreted as completely dehumanizing — that this person is not worth loving, such that his essential relationship of love and basic trust can be made dirty and worthless.
    There is a sense of inertia associated with the idea of being, whereas action is linked to becoming. In being, there are no expectations of doing because the key is receiving love, not giving it. In becoming, there is implied potential, action and choice. It is within this space that human flourishing depends on freedom to exercise abilities, which is why Sen’s ideas are so fundamental to understanding how people living in circumstances of deprivation can better their lives. But it is in this sense of being and receiving love that we experience being fully human. If we accept this idea of being as right and true, and if we accept that human flourishing requires freedom to exercise capability in order to reach individual potential, we can begin to think about a system of fairness and equality that includes everyone, even those who lack capacity for reason or purposive action.
    A few years ago, I happened upon the obituary of a woman who had had many children and grandchildren. I recall being struck by the words, written by a grandchild and suffused with love: “Although there were so many in our family, she made each of us feel known and loved.” In knowing and loving someone, there is a suggestion of unconditional acceptance made personal, and a steadfast loyalty. This woman must have been a wonderful listener. To me, this is a description of an ideal mother or grandmother.
    To understand how this understanding of mothers’ love must inform our compassionate acts, it is important to look at how to care for those deemed least worthy of receiving that love. Helen Prejean, the nun depicted in the book and film Dead Man Walking , is one example of offering the most challenging compassion. Even our worst criminals are “some mother’s son.” Nothing in this story suggests that crimes committed by these men should not be punishable by society and