"I was still immature," said Smith, whose son is now 27. "I was selfish. Poor me."

Raising a child with Down syndrome was hard. Her marriage broke up by the time Greg was 2. But she realized life was no longer just about her. A child began to teach her what life and love were all about.

"You can either look at them as a blessing or a burden," she said. "And I choose to look at him as a blessing in my life."

Today, Greg is her worldwide traveling companion and the source of many smiles. He has become something of a celebrity around O'ahu and likes to show off his own snapshots with celebrities including Magic Johnson, Lassie and Charo. His picture taken with the Pope hangs at the "Pope's Table" at Buca Di Beppo restaurant at the Ward entertainment complex. And Greg will be front and center next week at Hawai'i's sixth annual Buddy Walk, a nationwide effort to raise awareness about the disability.

The festivities will include a talent show, and Greg, who's quite a ham, is likely to show off some of his dance moves. (Just ask him about "Livin' La Vida Loca.")

Erasing assumptions

Chronologically, Greg Smith is 27. Developmentally, he's 9 or 10. He carries around football cards, is learning to read, sometimes burps inappropriately and is quick with a laugh.

Physically, he's healthy. He had heart surgery as a toddler but is now strong enough to participate in the Special Olympics and sports such as soccer and bowling. He has a broad face, wide eyes, short stature and features associated with his disability, but it's easiest to focus on his smile.

He's like a kid at show-and-tell. He holds up his celebrity snapshots or his stack of football cards. He tires of questions easily and often repeats phrases his mom says. She just retired after 40 years with United. Greg says he wants to retire, too.

His teacher, Bert Kono, a support specialist whose late son was disabled, said it's therapeutic for him to work with Greg and the others in the program. "Greg is a very loyal person, and compassionate," Kono said. "He always tries to help people, and he has a good sense of humor."

Greg has a girlfriend of three years he met at Goodwill, and they have a puppy-love kind of relationship. Greg's mom sometimes chaperones them to movies. He's affectionate and sweet most of the time, and he continues to surprise his mother with the things he notices.

Once, in California, Connie Smith rented a car, but the battery died. No help seemed to be around, and Smith was frantic. Greg calmed her. "Mom," he called to her, pointing to a police car with an officer his mother didn't even see.

"He understands about 98 percent of things," she said. He just has trouble communicating.

And that leads to assumptions. Assumptions that he can't do things or that his life is somehow tragic.

That's part of the reason that, nearly 20 years ago, Smith started the Hawaii Down Syndrome Congress, which offers support for more than 175 families and professionals concerned with Down syndrome. It is the second-leading cause of mental retardation, affecting about one in 800 babies. At the time, there was nothing in Hawai'i for Down syndrome families, she said. Today, there's a network of support.

"Our kids are worthwhile human beings," Smith said she wants people to know. "And if they get proper training, they can become worthwhile citizens of our community."

Great expectations

Leland Tobias has high hopes for his son, Luke, who was born with Down syndrome nearly three years ago.

A team of family members works with Luke eight to 10 hours a day on an intense program meant to stimulate his brain. They teach him such things as music and Spanish and even breathing exercises. His mother, Tracy, is deployed on National Guard duty in Iraq, leaving Leland at home in Kailua with Luke and his 5-year-old brother, Jacob.

Leland Tobias' hope is that people will treat both his sons the same way instead of acting as if Luke must be babied.

Tobias says he remembers being in school and making fun of the kids with disabilities, the ones who rode the special buses.

He says things are different now, and by stimulating Luke's mind, his hope is for his son to lead a life in the mainstream.

"We want him to be independent," Tobias said. "We want him to go to college. We set the bar higher. We want more than average."

He and his boys will do the Buddy Walk this year, hoping to set a positive example.

As a parent, Tobias says, he's learned to be more understanding and patient. "Our family, I think we've learned to love and treat each other a lot better," he said. "I just feel he's a gift."

Talking about it

Even with growing awareness about Down syndrome, families, particularly Asian ones, are still reluctant to talk about it, said Vicky Cayetano, CEO of United Laundry Services and wife of former Gov. Ben Cayetano.

She knows. Her youngest brother, 44-year-old Donald Tiu, has Down syndrome.

"My mother, I guess she felt very guilty for producing a less-than-perfect child, so to say," she said.

The lack of discussion about it made it even harder.

Her brother now lives in a Pearl City care home, and he and Vicky Cayetano are the honorary chairmen for this year's Buddy Walk.

"One misconception is that it's all bad," she said. "I see how happy they are."

Tanya Bricking Leach writes about relationships. Reach her at tleach@honoluluadvertiser.com or 525-8026.

Correction: The name of the entertainer Charo was misspelled in a previous version of this story.