‘Different’ isn’t a death sentence

One of the most powerful testimonies I heard last year was by Frank Stephens at a U.S. House of Representatives committee hearing.

Mr. Stephens has Down syndrome. He was advocating for the rights of those born with his developmental disability. Frank Stephens said to the lawmakers: “I am a man with Down syndrome, and my life is worth living.”

The reason Mr. Stephens has to publicly state the obvious—that his life has value—is that there is a serious worldwide threat to people with Down syndrome. It is a menace, and the facts don’t lie.

In the United States from 1995 to 2011, 67 percent of babies with Down syndrome never saw their first birthday. The mortality rate in France is 77 percent, and in Denmark it is nearly 98 percent. By far the worst rate is in Iceland, where nearly every child with Down syndrome is killed. Iceland has a population of about 330,000, but only one or two children a year are born with Down syndrome.

What is the cause of this mass genocide against those with Down syndrome, which claims thousands of lives every year? Abortion.

With advancements in prenatal screening, we can determine very early in a pregnancy if a child has Down syndrome. As a result, selective abortion is now part of the long and terrible history of mistreatment of people who have disabilities. What sort of thought process must you have, and from what dark place must it come from, to believe that people who are different cannot live full and wonderful lives?

That kind of thinking couldn’t be further from the truth, as I have seen from someone very close to me.

My brother Troy was born different. I should say that he was made different because of how he was born. Troy and his identical twin, Tyler, were born prematurely at 24 weeks, which was early enough in the pregnancy that some anti-life abortion supporters would label them “fetuses.”

They were extremely small and under-developed. Nearly every day of their first year on this earth they had to fight to live. Unfortunately, my brother Tyler died because of the medical complications of being born so early.

Troy made it, but with physical and mental impairments. He is 100 percent blind. He is on the autism scale, and other mental challenges have left him with the capacity of a small child. Troy still lives with my father. Most likely, caregivers will always have to take care of him.

In spite of his differences, Troy is a blessing to my family. He lives a good life, with people who love him. More importantly, his life has value.

People like Troy should be protected instead of being considered problems to be dealt with. Any just and moral society should protect people who are born different from the majority.

At the recent Arkansas Right to Life march at the Capitol, there were hundreds of pro-life Arkansans who take a stand every year to protect the lives of the unborn. As I looked through the crowd I saw children in wheelchairs, children with Down syndrome, and children with other physical and intellectual impairments. They were marching to protect the lives of future generations who will be born like them, although different from most.

They inspired me to draft the Down Syndrome Discrimination by Abortion Prohibition bill, to protect those who cannot protect themselves. The bill would prohibit the selective abortion of children with Down syndrome.

As originally written the bill would be limited to only Down syndrome, but my hope is that before the final version is voted on it will be expanded to protect children who have other genetic and medical conditions.

We have an obligation to act. In Arkansas and in every nation, we have an obligation to protect those who are different. It is my hope that we will lead the way by ensuring that people with disabilities are able to live full and happy lives.