A Special Dad's Quest to Balance the Needs of the Many
- Allan Shedlin
- Feb 26
- 6 min read
Updated: Mar 4
Guest Post by Clint Harrison
Dad of Two, Adoptive Dad of Six, and Foster Dad to Many
As parents, we are often bombarded by the requests and desires of a multitude of players, especially our own family members. You or your spouse wants one thing, while each of your children may want something different.
Disagreements usually happen over something simple, like what restaurant the family will go to for dinner, which ride to choose at the amusement park, etc. For these straightforward choices, we fall back on the most noble and democratic method to solve the dilemma: a vote. It's a great example of the ethical system of utilitarianism.
The Star Trek character Spock defined it best: "The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few, or the one."
While not everybody gets their way, every voice is heard in the process, and the most people are the most satisfied. Obviously, this process of making family decisions is not without its flaws, not the least of which is that we, as parents, are sometimes outvoted. Ultimately, things work out, because everybody feels they are part of the process. Even major decisions, like the next family vacation destination, are often made this way, with a parent whittling down options to a couple that are equally acceptable to them, and then presenting it to the group for a vote.
So, what happens when this system is thrown completely on its ear? When a family isn't built the same way as "normal" families, the guidelines for resolution are often muddied.
My family started off being built in the "traditional" way: two heterosexual, married parents have a couple of biological children. But it evolved quite differently over the years. We adopted a daughter from Ethiopia, who had spent most of her 10 months of life in an orphanage, battling major medical challenges.
We spent the next 15 years as foster parents, adopting six of the nearly 70 children who passed through our home. Most of these children have special needs ranging from drug exposure to spina bifida, autism to cerebral palsy. Even the children not tethered to any diagnosis or medical condition usually made their way to our home on the absolute worst day of their lives.
While not everybody gets their way, every voice is heard in the process, and the most people are the most satisfied. Obviously, this process of making family decisions is not without its flaws, not the least of which is that we, as parents, are sometimes outvoted.
How do you include these children in the decision-making of a family? How do you give them what they need in life while still maintaining the sanctity of the familial democratic process?
The simple answer is, you don't. I can point to a couple of examples that illustrate why.
The first example is one of meeting a guest's needs. We took in a young lady, around 10 years old. She and her baby brother were only going to be with us for a couple of days, while their aunt traveled from the other side of the state to take custody.
The little girl had just lost her parents to a drug bust, while both kids were in the car. Her world was absolutely shattered. She was very polite, but fierce, and had one demand that could not be negotiated.
You must understand, my spouse and I are Caucasian, and would not ever be confused as anything else. This young lady was Hispanic and had obviously grown up in a traditional household.
The girl refused to eat anything that was not authentic Mexican food. It wasn't just the ingredients that had to be authentic, the person who was making the meal also had to be Hispanic. No Taco Bell, no "white-people taco night" would suffice.
Fortunately, living in a southwestern town, we had many restaurants to choose from. But any choice was immediately shot down (respectfully), as soon as she saw a white woman serving the food. We finally found a take-out restaurant nearby, which was completely owned and operated by a Hispanic family, who also spoke Spanish to her to quell any concerns.
For the next three days, our family dined on only authentic Mexican restaurant cuisine, including breakfast made with the tortillas that they allowed us to purchase, just to appease a little girl who was only with us for a couple of days. While this actually worked out for everyone and didn't cause any arguments, it could have been difficult for the other children in our home.
What about a child that is not just a guest, but a permanent (or semi-permanent) member of the family? This second example involves a child who, because of a mental or physical limitation, changes what the family is able to do.
How do you include these children in the decision-making of a family? How do you give them what they need in life while still maintaining the sanctity of the familial democratic process? The simple answer is, you don't.
My 6-year-old, Precious, was born with spina bifida, and cannot feel anything below her waist. She also has severe sensory defensiveness. She uses a wheelchair for mobility everywhere except at home, where she can "bum shuffle" or army crawl anywhere she wants to go. For her first 3 years, this wasn't really a problem. She would be easily carried anywhere she needed to go, or could be placed in a stroller.
As Precious has grown older, however, and become more dependent upon the wheelchair, it has severely impacted the various places our family can go together. Every possible activity must first be thoroughly discussed and many are shot down early. The local Renaissance Faire? Out, because of its rocky, hilly terrain. Most restaurants are also no-gos, because although they can often accommodate an adult wheelchair, there is no luck in helping with one that's child-sized. A movie at the theater is often out, because of her sensory issues.
Even something as simple as an outing to the park can become frustrating for all, as she's unable to engage with us in most of the activities. The only solutions have been to avoid the activity, altogether, or for just a few of us go at a time. The latter was formulated not because of something that's been detrimental to our family, but because one of our children, my 16-year-old daughter, Dulcie, has achieved something truly remarkable.
Two years ago, Dulcie made a short film that changed our lives. Her documentary, I Choose You, has been submitted and accepted to multiple film festivals and special screenings all over the United States, including winning a Best High School Film Atticus Award at the 2025 Daddying Film Festival & Forum (D3F).
My wife and I have alternated trips to Boston, New York, Philadelphia, Aspen, as well as screenings all over the Eastern Slope of Colorado. This massive amount of attention has been very hard for many of the other children to accept, and the jealousy has contributed to at least a few tantrums and arguments.
We work hard to celebrate the accomplishments of all our children, but it's hard for most of them to not feel like they're being outshined by Dulcie's brilliant star. That includes our adult children. I must also mention that this kiddo, while overcoming her own medical issues, does very well academically and has been on the leadership team at school since eighth grade. We have chosen not to dim her light, especially since her talents could lead her to the scholarship money she'll need to go to college.
Equal is not always fair, and fair is not always equal. My wife and I have learned that we must sometimes focus on an individual child, even when it means the group as a whole might "suffer." You could say this is our family's daddying axiom:
Sometimes, the needs of the one outweigh the needs of the many.
Daddying Film Festival & Forum 2027
June 21, 2026
Save the Dates: The 6th annual, virtual Daddying Film Festival will take place on Eventive, January 11-20, 2027, and our live Daddying Film Forum will screen Atticus Award winners and finalists, January 29-30, 2027! Start planning your submissions now for the D3F 2027 Call for Entries, which opens this Fathers' Day, June 21st. More D3F news to come!
Clint Harrison is a Dad to two, adoptive Dad to six, and former foster parent to nearly 70 more children, most with special needs. In addition to being a pediatric home health CNA, he's also spent time as a business professor. His says his parenting journey has "always been an unusual one," spanning nearly three decades. Clint and his wife, Jorja, have been married for more than 28 years and began their journey as high-school sweethearts.
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