Inclusion grows up in small town New Brunswick

The community of Bath, where I grew up, lost two of its finest — on 8 April, Robert “Bob” McDougall, age 75, passed away at Scott’s Special Care Home in Woodstock; two days later, Jeanne Martha (Toner) Brennan, age 88, passed away at Carleton Manor,  also in Woodstock. She, along with her late husband Bill, raised a family of 14 children in Johnville, on the outskirts of Bath. Their children were educated with the MacInnis clan.

Spirtuality defined both of these  fine examples of humanity who were quiet forces in this quaint village on the St. John River — which brings me to a key point of this week’s sharing moment. 

If you don’t think you can make a difference in the life of someone in your community, think again. Bobby McDougall made a huge difference in the community of my childhood. He had many friends, not only in Bath, but also in surrounding communities, like Johnville, where, in the family home, Jeanne Brennan lived until she moved to Carleton Manor in December of last year. On my last visit with her, a few years ago, I brought her a loaf of home made bread and some muffins. She insisted that there had to be a cup of tea to go with! She recalled my snowmobile treks from Bath to her home, about 3 kilometers away. Through the woods I’d go; she and Mom never abandoned worrying about my antics, but I’d get it done! Just as Bobby always did.

From Nancy McQuade, a lifelong Bath resident: 

“Bobby loved going to the Johnville picnic and the Bath Fall Fair and getting to see all the people  he had not seen since the last one. He would always call for weeks before the event to make sure I would go down to Woodstock to bring him up for it.  He would tell me what time to pick him up.  I did not dare be late.  One time I said to him ‘I will be there, Bobby, if I don’t kick the bucket.’   He said, ‘What does that mean, dear?’   I said ‘unless  I pass away,’ and he said ‘you better not dear. Who will take me to the picnic?’ Nice to be loved!!”

As a child, I got to know Bobby, Libby Hart, the daughter of the manager of the Bank of Nova Scotia, and Johnny Corbett, son of another of our church family. Bobby and Johnny were always at Sunday Mass.  Libby attended school, not letting the challenge of Down Syndrome stop her; sometimes, in third grade, she sat beside me. Our teacher, Carol DeMerchant, was her BFF. Known for her well put together look, Libby was a very stylish young lady  — she passed away in 2008 at the age of 57, having lived a full and active life. 

Though I was younger by a few years, we all had one thing in common. We four were differently able, growing up in homes where our ‘special’ needs weren’t at the forefront when it came to the important stuff of kids being kids. 

One of Bobby McDougall’s best buddies in Bath was Father Joseph LeBlanc, our parish priest at St. Joseph’s Catholic Church. Father Joe included both Bobby and Johnny Corbett in the celebration of the Mass on Sunday — they were, after all, part of the community. Before ‘inclusion’ became fashionable, they, Libby Hart and I were included! That’s just the way it was and continues to be today in Bath and in other small towns and villages.

Changing collective attitudes about ‘value’ changes the way children with challenges will feel about themselves and their place in the community. They begin to feel valued and appreciated for what they can contribute. Including children who walk differently, talk differently or think differently in events like birthday parties and sleep-overs sends a clear message that they don’t need to worry about the can’t do of their day to day world. Being together with other children just being kids is often just what it takes to forge a path to a life long connections. Much like what Bobby, Johnny, Libby and I had in Bath. 

Just as Bobby, Johnny, Libby and I made a difference, those who don’t live with such obvious challenges can as well. Offering  an hour or two of our own daily living to a frazzled mother of a child with learning disabilities who just needs a break. We can ‘just show up’ at the home of a family whose child needs daily physical therapy, for a show and tell. Bring doughnuts.  Let Mom show and tell you how particular exercises are done. Offer to pedal scrawny little legs a few times a week. I have many recollections of myself as that scrawny little kid who needed the legs ‘pedaled’. There maybe some among you who remember me learning to ride a two-wheeler. 

Get down on the floor and colour with a child who has eye-hand co-ordination deficits. You might find Picasso waiting to come out to play!

Carla MacInnis Rockwell is a freelance writer and disability rights advocate living outside Fredericton with her aging Australian silky terrier and a rambunctious Maltese. She can be reached at carmacrockwell@xplornet.ca via email.