"Reel life". (parents perspective).

I see Sean Penn has turned in an Oscar-caliber performance in his new movie I Am Sam. I had predicted his nomination just from its one-sentence synopsis in the local paper: "Mentally challenged father fights to retain custody of his daughter." A number of years ago a pre-Oscar broadcast of the Today Show featured a reporter from Variety setting odds for predicting each contender's Oscar chances. This hip Hollywood type informed us all that "if you play a retard, you get nominated." Although this type of insensitivity deserves an entire essay itself, my immediate concern is a different one.

What prompts me to write now is the portrayal, once again, of individuals with developmental disabilities as sweet, somewhat befuddled, oddly-dressed angels who only need an understanding and well-meaning "normal" person to make their lives into happy imitations of "normal life." I know that I should be grateful that TV and movies portray people with disabilities at all. But if the media are going to portray a person with a developmental disability, how about a realistic portrayal?

For example, a few years ago, a tear-jerking film called The Other Sister starred Juliette Lewis as a wealthy girl with a developmental disability who is extremely high-functioning and who wants to gain independence from her overprotective, though strangely uninvolved, mother. Lewis's character comes home from private, residential school and meets an extremely high-functioning boy who is taking college courses (he does need help to pass his classes). They fall in love, experience the joys of sex and eventually achieve their independence, marriage and a happy ending for all, including Mom. Sweet? Yes. Entertaining? Yes. But so is Peter Pan. Real? About as real as Peter's adventures in Never-Never Land.

How many people really understood the satire in Forrest Gump? How many just focused on Tom Hanks' sweet face, as he innocently blunders through the latter part of the twentieth century, affecting us all only for the good?

The majority of the general public base their views of people with developmental disabilities upon what they see on TV and in the movies. Perhaps they have some firsthand knowledge of the kid down the block who gets on the minivan in the morning, or the older relative who tags along with his aged parents to family functions and is "a little slow." Such realistic experiences are important because with knowledge comes acceptance, appreciation and the ability to overcome old fears and misunderstandings. If you expect to see Juliette, Sean or Tom walking with an awkward gait, you won't learn anything. But if you have the courage to open the door a little into the lives of people with developmental disabilities--by all means, swing it open all the way.

Any Saturday afternoon, come down to the bowling alley and meet my son and his friends. You won't meet Rainman, but you will meet real people grappling with autism and the social and emotional problems that come along with it. You won't meet Forrest, but you will meet young men who are graduating from school and hoping to find a job that will fulfil them. There are no girls in this group likely to have their own apartment or get married, as the "other sister" does. But there are girls--young women, really--who like boys on the team and enjoy music and dancing, and are struggling to express these feelings in an appropriate way.

You'll also meet real parents of children with developmental disabilities. The parents and their styles of parenting are varied, but there are no monsters or saints among us--though these are the two characteristics most often attributed to parents of children with disabilities in the movies. Rather, these "real" parents are, like all parents, worried about their children's future. But these parents are also worn down from the constant struggles with schools and with their children's social isolation. They are sometimes frustrated, sometimes even confused, depressed or angry, but they are always ready with a helping hand and a laugh. You have to have a wicked sense of humor to get through this life.

Does anyone in TV-land know that not all people with developmental disabilities look like Sean Penn, Tom Hanks or Dustin Hoffman, wearing their pants too short and dress shirts buttoned up to the neck? My son and all his friends are outright fashion plates, wearing the latest style, their favorite sports teams' logos and the hippest sneakers and hairstyles. They want to look good, and we make sure they do. God knows they stand out from the crowd enough without walking around dressed like Howdy Doody!

It's time for TV and the movies to portray real and ordinary people with developmental disabilities. Even today, when a national talk show features someone with developmental disabilities, it's a very high-functioning, attractive, pixyish person. I guess we should be grateful for any exposure at all, but I'm still waiting for a talk-show host to interview someone like my son and his friends. These young adults with mental retardation may not be so "cute" anymore. They may not have a perfect smile or they may have missed half their faces when they shaved, but they have triumphed by shaving at all!

Come on, Hollywood! Anyone want to come and make a movie about us? We've got it all: drama, suspense, triumph, tragedy and, believe it or not, lots of laughs. Is there anyone in the media courageous enough to tell the real stow of your average, run-of-the-mill individuals with developmental disabilities and their families?

Show a stow about real heroes: the parents who get up every morning and do all the things that you could never imagine you would still have to do for your adult child, before ,you were thrust into the different, parallel universe of the family with "special needs." Show us as neither saints nor sinners, but as real parents who love their children. Show our children as three-dimensional human beings, who grow up to be adults who do not look like Sean, Juliette or Tom in bad wardrobes.

There are great love stories buried in here, Hollywood! Real love stories. Take the time and courage to find them. And hey, it's okay if Julia Roberts wants to play me.

Roseann Forziano is the community educator for the Epilepsy Foundation of Long Island and a columnist for a local newspaper. Her 18-year-old son, Paul, has developmental disabilities.