Adrian Barich: Welcome to Holland by Emily Perl Kingsley a powerful read on raising a child with disability

A mother shares her journey of raising a child with Down syndrome, using a travel metaphor.

Now that’s my way of learning. As the mum says, to understand is to imagine what it would feel like.

This essay on World Down Syndrome Day is worth a look. It’s a little masterpiece.

It’s called Welcome to Holland, written in 1987 by Emily Perl Kingsley, and it’s one of the most powerful ways I’ve ever seen the experience of raising a child with a disability explained.

And if you are around my age, you may even remember Emily’s little son Jason appearing on Sesame Street.

It starts with a planned trip to Italy. You dream about it, excited about the history, the beauty, all the stuff we love about that country.

But when the plane lands, you’re in Holland.

That’s not worse, nor better, it’s just different. It’s unexpected. And for a while, that can be incredibly hard to process.

Over many years, I’ve been lucky enough to spend time with families raising children with Down syndrome.

And what’s always struck me isn’t what they’ve lost, but what they’ve found.

But let’s not pretend the journey starts there. Because at the beginning, for many, there’s shock. There’s fear. There’s uncertainty. And yes, there’s grief for the life they thought they and their child were going to have.

That doesn’t make anyone a bad parent. It makes them human. It’s the “Italy” they had planned.

Then, slowly, something changes. Not all at once. Not in some perfect, movie-like moment but over time, Holland begins to reveal itself.

I’ve seen it in moments you can’t really measure.

A first smile that might come later than expected but hits you harder than you ever thought possible.

A first word that feels like a miracle.

A first step that takes longer but means everything.

I remember a story about a little girl whose family worried constantly because she wasn’t hitting the milestones when the books said she should. Every delay felt like a warning sign.

Until one day, she just did it. She smiled. She walked. She found her way, on her own time.

And her family had the same thought so many others have had before them: why did we ever spend so much time worrying?

As Mark Twain once said: “I’ve had a lot of worries in my life, most of which never happened”.

World Down Syndrome Day is important, for awareness but also for understanding. Because these families aren’t living a lesser life. They’re living a different one.

And often, it’s a deeper one. There’s a term I’ve heard many times: an extra chromosome but the families I know often call it something else. They say it’s extra love.

And when you see it up-close, you understand exactly what they mean. There’s a warmth, a joy, a sincerity in these kids that cuts straight through everything else.

They celebrate everything, they connect instantly, they love without filters or conditions . . . a pretty rare gift, you’d have to say.

And in a world that can sometimes feel cynical or guarded, that’s not just special — that’s powerful.

That doesn’t mean it’s easy, though. As we all know, there are appointments, therapies, waiting rooms, trial and error. Moments of exhaustion and frustration.

There are systems that don’t always make things simple, and some that even appear to make things more difficult.

But as Mizuta Masahide, a 17th century Japanese poet and samurai, wrote to sum up this world: “My barn having burned down, I can now see the moon.”

And really just like all parents, you are just trying to make sure your child gets the same opportunities as everyone else. Sometimes you do have to fight for your kid.

Through it all, I’ve observed that there’s a quiet strength in these families that deserves more recognition than it gets. And let me tell you, they aren’t asking for sympathy; just acceptance and inclusion.

For their children to be seen for who they are, not what they’re not.

So if you’ve never experienced Holland, here are a few ideas. Don’t stand on the outside and feel sorry, lean in. You’ll find something to respect, maybe even something you can learn from.

To every family raising a child who has a tougher road to walk: just know that most of us think you’re doing something extraordinary every single day.

And your kids . . . they’re obviously not defined by a diagnosis. They’re defined by their spirit, resilience, and ability to bring people together in a way very few things can. It has to be seen to be believed.

They make communities stronger. They can make families closer, which makes the world a better place.

So maybe the truth is Italy is everything you imagined. Yes, the Vatican is pretty cool and so is the Colosseum. And Michelangelo knew his way around a chisel.

But Holland? Holland teaches you things Italy never could.

As Emily taught us, it slows you down. It makes you value the little things.

It shows you a different kind of beauty; one built on patience, perspective and love.

And for those who take the time to truly see it, Holland isn’t just a place you end up.

It’s a place you come to love and by the sound of it, a place you ultimately can call home.