Tag Archives: autism spectrum

What Is Autism?

Posted on April 24, 2013 | 35 Comments

Google that term and one is faced with a lengthy list of deficits.  The definitions of autism are cloaked in subjective language.  All the words used are in relation to non Autistic neurology: “severe impairment”, “life long developmental disorder”,  ”social impairment” and one site went so far as to say, “A mental condition in which fantasy dominates over reality, as a symptom of schizophrenia and other disorders.”  None of these “definitions” have been helpful to me, personally, nor have I found them to be factually correct.  The most common definitions of autism out there have increased my fear and encouraged me to pursue therapies and treatments that have done far more harm than good.

People often ask, “so what is autism exactly?”  Over the years I’ve had a variety of responses, but like the definitions above, they always seemed inadequate, unhelpful and inaccurate.  So now, when I answer that question all I can come up with is this:  Autism is a type of neurology.   Short and sweet.  No judgment, no comparison, just six words.  It is a neurology.  It’s the best way I know of to describe what is often mired in negativity and judgment.

Comparing Autism to non autistic neurology has gotten me into a great deal of trouble over the years.  I have found it is important that I avoid doing that.  (I’m keeping this personal.  I speak only for myself and do not presume this is how others feel.)  For years I worried about my daughter’s ability to have friends.  If I believe the common definitions of autism, her ability to make friends is “impaired”.  Yet the impairment is less about her desire and attempts to have friends as it is about non Autistic neurology being out of sync with hers.  When Em was in Florida with her friend Henry, they had no problem hanging out together, laughing and enjoying each other’s company.  Just because they typed to each other and didn’t engage in endless verbal conversation, didn’t mean they didn’t have a blast together.

If I listened to and believed the definitions of autism, I might think my child couldn’t learn to read or write.  I would be wrong.   Not only has my daughter learned to read and write, she also has learned to type.  Because I no longer believe the common definitions regarding autism I do not limit what she should or shouldn’t do.  I do not limit her future with set ideas about her future capabilities.  I have found it helpful to disregard those organizations and people who insist that Autism is a dreadful “affliction” and compare rates of autism diagnosis with cancer.

So what is a longer definition of autism?

It’s a terrific question.  Finding an answer that is factual as well as helpful to me, has been difficult to find.  However there are a few who have done a terrific job defining autism and in doing so have also helped me, personally.  Autistic Self Advocacy Network (ASAN) defines Autism ‘here‘ and this post by Brenda, over at Mama Be Good, gives a great, comprehensive answer to the question and at the end includes her personal observations of her child and what it’s been like to parent an Autistic child.

So I ask you, how do you answer the question – What is Autism?

Em on her way back to Henry’s house – April 2013

Em pets the kitty

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Posted in Autism, Parenting, prejudice

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Accepting Ourselves So We Can Accept Others

Posted on April 23, 2013 | 13 Comments

Accepting myself has been an ongoing process and it began well before I became a parent and got married.  It began more than seventeen years ago when I was flailing about, bulimic, unable to stop using my substance of choice (food) the way a drug addict uses crack.  I have written about this period of my life before ‘here‘, ‘here‘, ‘here‘ and ‘here‘ so I won’t go into great detail again now.  Suffice it to say, I was out of control, scared, suicidal and I couldn’t stop binging and purging.  And then someone who had once been an active alcoholic and obese, with more than a hundred pound maintained weight loss, said to me, “What if you accept that this is where you are?”

I remember I looked at her in shock.  Even now, thinking back to her words I find I am holding my breath.  It was such a stunning statement.  Never had anyone suggested such a thing.  To me it suggested complete defeat.  It was blasphemous.  It was the single most heinous suggestion I’d ever heard.  I think I said something like, “Are you kidding?  What do you mean?”  I can no longer remember her exact words, but she said something like, “You just told me you can’t stop binging and throwing up.  You just said you are out of control.  You just gave me a detailed description of what you do, how completely depressed you are, how you’ve tried for twenty-two years to control yourself and yet here you are, still unable to.  What if you told yourself – okay.  This is where I am.  I am out of control.  I hate it.  I hate feeling this way.  I can’t stop.  I can’t stop hurting myself.  I can’t stop binging.  I can’t stop throwing up.  I can’t stop thinking about food.  I can’t stop abusing myself.  This is where I am.  I accept that I am here.  What if you did that?

I didn’t have an answer.  I couldn’t think.  I felt like I was being given a pop quiz I hadn’t studied for.  I stared at her and then she did the next thing that I could not understand or wrap my mind around.  She opened her arms in embrace and hugged me.  I remember my confusion, the feeling that this couldn’t be right, that she was unhinged, that the only thing that could save me from self-destruction was more self-criticism, more self-loathing and more self-recrimination.  But I also knew what she’d said made some sort of bizarre sense; for twenty-two years I’d been upping the self hate talk to no avail.  All that criticism I kept dumping on myself had gotten me exactly where I was – at a dead end.  So I took a deep breath, held onto her hand and took a metaphoric leap into the unknown.  The unknown of acceptance.

Just in case you’re wondering, it didn’t happen as quickly or as easily as this may sound.  That leap took years of practice, of gently reminding myself that whatever I was feeling, whatever I was doing, I could accept that in that moment I was where I was.  It took years and years of cultivating awareness, of being able to see when I took up the whip that I could also put it down again.  Kindness, compassion, gentle reminders and acceptance, this is the road I have tried to stay on.  As I said, this is very much a work in progress.  Some call it a ‘practice’ because ‘work’ sounds difficult.  My experience with acceptance has been that it is “work”.  It is not easy for me.  It does not come naturally.  I have stumbled along the way.  I continue to wander off at times, only to be brought back, gently, kindly and with compassion by others who are on the same path.  It takes gentle reminders, many nonjudgmental nudges to move back onto the path of acceptance.  But I have seen the light and know to follow it even when it grows dim.

My experience with acceptance regarding autism has followed a similar trajectory.  You might think – why didn’t she ‘get it’ right away?  Why did it take so long for her to remember that what had worked for herself would work with this too?   And the only answer I have is this – I forgot and I couldn’t see that they were connected.  I didn’t see the value in accepting autism because I didn’t see my child as Autistic.  I saw her as having been diagnosed with a word I feared and didn’t understand, and therefore was not going to accept.  Again it felt like defeat to accept.  It has only been a little over a year that I was able to make the connection.  And the thing that helped me make the connection came in the form of yet another person who accepted me and all my fear, guilt and shame with compassion.  Once I was able to make the connection, became aware of my lack of acceptance and allowed that to be, without adding criticism and judgement to it, was I finally able to begin the process of true acceptance.

Acceptance of ourselves and where we are in this moment opens us up to the wonder of all.

Pascal, Emma, Harvey & Henry typing to each other – April, 2013

H &E type

 

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Posted in Addiction, Autism, Parenting

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Friendship – Another Myth Regarding Autism

Posted on April 16, 2013 | 21 Comments

My friend Ibby is here staying with us for a few days.  It’s a working visit, but that doesn’t take away from the joy we are all experiencing because she is here.  Who says work cannot also be a blast?

Emma and Ibby 

Em and Ib

I’ve spoken of Ibby many times on this blog (here, here, here and here to link a few) because Ib has, more than any single human being, done more to change my views regarding autism and my daughter than any other person.  I know that may sound hyperbolic, but it’s actually not.  It’s true.  Or as Ib would say, “Fact.”  And it is.  Fact.  Another fact is the gratitude I feel toward her.  Just tremendous gratitude for opening my eyes, not just to one thing, but to multiple things.  As an example, here is just one little thing that happened as a direct result of Ib.

Ib gently urged me to watch the documentary Wretches and Jabberers.  When I did not immediately watch it, she reminded me and again encouraged me to rent it.  I think she had to remind me three times, before I actually sat down and watched it.  And because I watched W& J, when I presented at the Autcom Conference last fall I went to hear Harvey, Tracy, Pascal and Larry’s presentation on supported typing and because I went to that presentation I had the idea that maybe, just maybe it might be the thing that could help my daughter communicate more reliably and because I had that idea I approached Pascal and asked if he was ever in New York City and because I asked him that, Pascal began helping us learn to support Em and because we started helping support Em I began to understand what presuming competence really meant and on it goes like the “If You Give a Mouse a Cookie” books, one thing leads to another and another and suddenly you look back and see that this person, this one person has influenced another (me) and the ripple effect is so far-reaching and beyond anything anyone could have imagined.

The Wretches and Jabberers example was just one example of one tiny thing Ib had a hand in.  I could name at least a dozen or more much larger examples, like the conversation (documented ‘here‘) we had about language and my daughter’s specifically and how sometimes she says things that seem completely unrelated to anything that’s going on, but how it is related, even if it’s not related in any way I can identify.  Sometimes it’s a leap-frog kind of association, often there’s an emotional component too, so when she suddenly blurts out, “No not going to see motorcycle bubbles” I now know Em is thinking about visiting her Granma in Colorado or is anticipating an electrical storm or watching the 4th of July fireworks display from the ranch. There’s excitement and maybe some anxiety and even fear and eager anticipation.   I know this now because Ib has helped me understand and has taught me how to “lean into” her words and not try to do a word for word translation.

Ib and I have been working on a book together about Autism, Inclusion and Friendship.  As a result I am thinking a great deal about friendships and relationships in general what they mean and how they develop and how the very definition of friendship is about inclusion and support and accommodation and giving each other slack and cheering each other on and appreciation and gratitude and being there for the other person.  It’s a mutual give and take and it’s reciprocal.  Relationships are basically what make this world and life worth living.  Ironically friendship was the thing I wrote about on this blog’s first entry.  It was what I wanted my daughter to experience, but feared she might not ever have, because I believed what I was being told about autism and that myth surrounding autism and being alone.

Over three years ago, when I started this blog, I wrote, “…hope that we may help our daughter Emma, now 8 years old, lead a life that includes deep friendships and the powerful bonds that result from being able to communicate with one another.  A life that is enriched by our interactions..  this is what I dream of for her..”   Who knew that not only would my definition of what constitutes “communication” completely change, but so would my mistaken ideas about my daughter’s ability to have friendships.  As an added plus Ibby is not only in my life, but in my entire family’s!

So yeah, Ib is really important to me.  I love her dearly; we do all the things friends do when they get together: confide in each other, laugh, hang out without having to talk, hang out and talk and talk and talk, cry, and when we aren’t physically together we stay in touch.  But as with all really close friends, Ib is in my mind and heart regardless of where she is.  I think about her and when we haven’t spoken for a few days we reach out to each other and connect, sometimes briefly if we’re both busy, but she’s always “here” in my heart.

As Ib has said, “Friendship is Fact.”

Vanilla cake with vanilla icing – made by Emma, Nic and me 

Ib's Cake

 

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Posted in Autism, Elizabeth J. Grace, friendship

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“Will She Be Okay?”

Posted on April 15, 2013 | 31 Comments

“Will she be okay?”  This was the question that went unanswered for the first nine years of my daughter’s life.  

“Will she be okay?” I asked every autism specialist, neurologist, pediatrician and anyone else who seemed vaguely knowledgable.  This question actually had almost nothing to do with the child I saw before me and everything to do with how I felt.  I so wanted reassurance.  I so wanted and needed someone to tell me she was going to be okay, whatever okay meant.  Whatever world “okay” occupied, I wanted to know, really know that my child was going to be embraced and fully in the “okay” of it all.  

“Will she be okay?”

Like the children’s story about the baby bird who’s fallen from its nest and asks all manner of creatures it meets “Are you my mother?” I desperately wanted someone to put their arm around me and say those seemingly magical and reassuring words – “Yes.  I promise.  She’s going to be just fine.”  But none did. So on I went, searching, trying every therapy, remedy, every crazy combination of vitamins, diets, homeopathy, naturopathy, healer, energy worker, cranial-sacral therapist, shaman, neurologist, developmental pediatrician, speech therapist, occupational therapist who held out the promise that all would be okay if only I did whatever it was they believed would make her “okay”. 

“Will she be okay?”  

When we finally ended our campaign to cure our daughter, our campaign to help her accelerated.  But this didn’t happen in a vacuum.  We had support.  And the support we were given came from other Autistic people. In retrospect, had I known my friend Ibby, I would not have asked “will she be okay?”  Had I met Tracy Thresher, Larry Bissonnette, Jamie Burke, Jennifer Seybert or any of the other people I’ve had the good fortune to physically meet, I would not have felt the need to ask repeatedly whether my daughter would be okay, because I would have known she already was.  That question would not have occurred to me to ask, because these people, many of whom do not speak or more often than not do not speak, or as in Ibby’s case speak, but when stressed, is unable to, are living their lives fully and they certainly know joy.  Each of them has grown up in a society that underestimated them.  All of them have been doubted and had to prove their intelligence over and over to those who are unwilling to see the evidence before them.   

“Will she be okay?”

We, as a society, must stop forcing people we deem different or less than to prove their worth.  We, as a society, must look inward and start asking ourselves, not “will my autistic child be okay?” but “what can we do to accommodate Autistic people so that all can flourish and be included?”

In the end, that’s all I really want for both my children.  I want them to feel a part of a society that supports them. 

“Will my child be okay?”

She IS okay.  Right now at this moment.  It’s up to the rest of us to recognize this.

Em singing “Clumsy” for Ibby and Emily last night

Em's performance 

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Posted in Autism, Autism Acceptance, Parenting

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The Influence of Others

Posted on April 10, 2013 | 7 Comments

On March 1st, 2012 my life changed.  I had no idea it was about to change.  I had no idea a single blog post would impact my life the way it did.  I didn’t know when I clicked on the link a commenter sent me on this blog, taking me to someone else’s blog, that I was in for the ride of a lifetime.

I had no idea.

On March 1st, 2012 I read Julia Bascom‘s post ~ The Obsessive Joy of Autism.  A post she’d written almost a year before, but I was only now reading.  Her post begins with this, “I am autistic. I can talk; I talked to myself for a long time before I would talk to anyone else. My sensory system is a painful mess, my grasp on language isn’t always the best, and it takes me quite some time to process social situations. I cannot yet live on my own or manage college or relationships successfully.”

I had no idea.

I have read that post half a dozen times since I discovered it.  And then I read her post just preceding entitled Grabbers.  ”The grabbers don’t believe that we can be happy or find meaning unless we are exactly like them…”

Read that again – “The grabbers don’t believe that we can be happy or find meaning unless we are exactly like them…”

As a parent I want nothing more than for both my children to find their way toward meaningful lives, lived with purpose.  That they will then also find happiness I thought was a given.  Or so I always believed.  Does that mean they must be like me?  Do I believe that their ability to feel happiness is reduced, lessened, not relevant, inadequate, inferior, if it looks different from my idea of what constitutes meaning and happiness?  Can I let go of my preconceived ideas pertaining to happiness and what that means for anyone but myself?  Do I even know what happiness is for me, let alone another?

I had no idea.

These were the questions that began to gnaw at me as I read Julia’s blog, Just Stimming.  I urge anyone who is not familiar with her blog to read it.  Just Stimming is beautifully written as well as powerful, poignant, evocative and for me anyway, gut wrenching.

Again, from her post Grabbers –  (**Words highlighted in bold are mine, as in Julia’s post those words are italicized.)

“The hands are everywhere.

They’re at our chins. “Look at me,” with a face pressed in so close to yours that you count the pores until they force your gazes to meet.“

“…protesting just means you need to be grabbed more often, with harder and more insistent hands, until you realize that the way you move is fundamentally wrong, as wrong and deficient and disturbing and dangerous as you are, and if you want to be counted as a “you” at all you must let them grab you until you can stop your self.”

I had no idea and now I realize that claim begins to ring false, even to my ears.  How was it possible to not have considered this?  But no.

I had no idea.

“…Until you realize that the way you move is fundamentally wrong…”

The post ends with, “In the end it just comes down to you are wrong, and for that you must be punished. It simplifies to your body is not your own, but it is mine.“

I am about four years old, we are living in the first house I ever lived in.  Our baby sitter, Mrs. Williams stands guard outside the bathroom where I have been told I will stay until I have had a “bowel movement.”  I am sure she will not let me leave, but I cannot go to the bathroom on command.  I feel anxiety course through my body, it is as though my entire being is encased in a net, I can breathe, but I am trapped.  I sit staring straight ahead, wondering how long before she begins to yell at me.  I am terrified of Mrs. Williams.  She smells of antiseptic soap and wears a nurses uniform that crackles when she moves and those awful white shoes you see in hospitals that sound like she’s stepped in chewing gum when she walks.  Her skin is pasty white and hangs from her body as though it were half a size too big.   But mostly it is her eyes, partially hidden by glasses lens that  do not conceal her anger and resentment.  Those eyes hurt to look at because I see so much that isn’t said.

Finally I stand, tip toe to the sink, grab my drinking cup and fill it with toilet water then pour the water back into the toilet and flush.  I place the cup carefully back on the edge of the sink and wait for Mrs. Williams to open the door, allowing me to escape.

“Your body is not your own, but it is mine...”

Julia’s blog was the beginning.  It showed me a different path and urged me to follow it.  I did.  Along the way I have found countless other blogs and have even been fortunate enough to meet many of the authors of those blogs.  Because of Julia’s blog I met my mentor and friend Ibby.  Because of Julia’s blog I read E.’s blog The Third Glance, which I intend to write about in the near future.  Because of Julia I have become a  (I hope) better parent.  Because of Julia I see the world differently.  Julia’s writing opened my eyes.  I wonder if any of us can ever really know how deeply our words can impact another.  I don’t know that anything I write here can convey what this woman has done for me or how enormously she has influenced me and because of her influence the difference she has made to my thinking and life and by extension, my daughter’s life.

Julia lit the way.

Julia created The Loud Hands Project.

Julia, with ASAN (Autistic Self Advocacy Network) put together the must read anthology, Loud Hands:  Autistic People Speaking.  

Julia is also the editor of the just released And Straight on Till Morning Essays on Autism Acceptance.  I just downloaded this book from Amazon for $2.99 and encourage everyone to do the same!

Julia’s writing gave me insight.  She confronted me with her truth.  She makes me think and rethink what I believe, what I think I know and she has made me question everything.  This post doesn’t do her justice.  How could it?

To Julia ~ Thank you  ❤

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Posted in Autism, Autistic Role Models, Blogs By Autistics

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Trashing Common Misperceptions About Autism

Posted on April 9, 2013 | 46 Comments

“Trashing Common Misperceptions About Autism and Autistic People and Creating a New World” – that’s what I first wrote as the title for this post, but it’s a mouthful and given the limit on characters on twitter, I revised it.

We just returned from Tampa where Richard, Em and I went to a screening of Wretches and Jabberers and to stay with my friend Lauri and her family, or as Em referred to it, “Have sleepover with Henry three.”  Which is an apt description because we spent three nights there.  Four days and three nights of paradise.  Four days and three nights of being with another family and a whole group of friends, new and old who didn’t judge, but rather embraced, a truly inclusive group, coming together, eating, laughing, connecting, talking and typing.  It reminded me a little of my experience at the Autcom Conference this past fall, except it was far more intimate and this time my husband and daughter shared the experience with me.  For four days we were given a glimpse of paradise.   A little peek into what our world could be like, but isn’t…  not yet.

Many people believe, erroneously, that Autistic people aren’t as interested in having friends, developing relationships or crave having mentors as we, non-Autistics.  Those people have never seen Henry’s smile when he is around his mentor and friend, Tracy.

Henry & Tracy@USF

Those people who doubt, didn’t witness Emma’s tears last night when we returned home and she made me promise we would see Henry again and have another “sleepover” with him and his family.  They did not witness Henry and Emma’s laughter and joy from being around each other.

Em and Henry hanging out together by the pool

E&H -Friends

Larry takes Emma’s photograph – perhaps the single greatest compliment a person could receive.  (Amy Sequenzia is in the background.)

Larry takes Em's photograph

They weren’t there to hear Emma tearfully say last night, “Please Mommy.  Go back to Florida tomorrow?  Play with Henry again soon?”

Just because someone cannot or does not express with words their love for another in the way we might expect, does not mean they do not feel it.

Many believe that if a person doesn’t speak, or speaks with a great deal of scripting and echolalia they are not interested in communicating or have little to say.  Those people have never witnessed a typed conversation between those so-called, “non-speaking” or atypical speakers.

Harvey, Tracy, Pascal and Larry, the stars of Gerardine Wurzburg’s documentary, Wretches and Jabberers

H,T, P & L.

Emma, being the consummate performer that she is, could not resist occupying the seat Larry vacated during a break at the University of Southern Florida, the day before the screening, where she wrote for all to read – “My mom and dad hope to meet more people like Larry and Tracy.  Wow(*!)  I am stirring up a crowd(*.)  time to work with people at home in new york to show them it is the intelligent emma there…”  *punctuation was added by me for the purpose of this post and indicates the smile Em gave and the pause she took between typing “crowd” and “time”.

Harvey, Tracy, Pascal & Em @ USF

Em Types@USF

Many people are surprised to learn that even those who do not speak can have wonderfully nuanced senses of humor, can enjoy deep, meaningful friendships, have a great deal to say and are often far more profound than most speaking people are in any given 24 hour period.

A conversation between Tracy, Henry and Emma about getting on board the “inclusion typing train” the night before the Wretches and Jabberers screening.  Tracy is to Henry’s right and out of the picture frame.

H &E type

Tracy, Henry and Emma make a “pitch” to Academy Award winning director, Gerardine Wurzburg who was standing nearby!

Em types

Em takes Gerry Wurzburg’s photo 

Gerry Wurtzburg

Many people assume Autistics have intellectual limitations commensurate with their “severe” and “moderate” labels, yet given appropriate accommodations this idea has been proven wrong again and again.  Yet another reason those labels are not only meaningless, but actually damaging.

Tracy types in answer to a question from the audience about the impact the documentary and meeting monk Hogan has had on his life.

Tracy @ W&J screeening

Many people believe inclusion of Autistics in schools will “bring the other children down” and that inclusion in society will be harmful, when the truth is the opposite with many studies proving this.   (Why this even needs to be proven, is something I am still trying to wrap my mind around!)

Mary Schuh (director of development and consumer affairs at the National Center of Inclusive Education Institute on Disability) and Henry at the Wretches and Jabberers screening at the Tampa Theatre, April 6th, 2013.  Henry is now attending the public school near his home.

Mary & Henry

These are only a few of the beliefs people have when it comes to autism and Autistic people.  Yet, if people were able to witness a weekend such as the one we just experienced, I guarantee their minds would be changed and we would be one step closer to creating a new world.

*Emma approved this post.

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Posted in Autism, Autistic Role Models, inclusion

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Those Who Influence..

Posted on April 5, 2013 | 14 Comments

There have been a number of Autistic people who through their writing or by meeting them have greatly influenced my thinking and radically changed how I view autism.  Through their writing and/or our direct interactions I began to question everything I thought I knew.  I began to see that so much of the information I’d been given was false.  It was because of these people that I have a level of understanding about the problems with *functioning labels, the problematic issues surrounding *segregating Autistic children from other non Autistic children not only in the classroom, but in life.  I have a better understanding about how *important the words used to describe autism and Autistic people can do tremendous damage or, conversely shift the conversation to one of better understanding and progress.

*I have put related posts below for each of these topics.

All of this brings me to Ibby.

Ibby was/is someone who radically changed my thinking, and continues to change how I think about autism and my daughter.  I have written about Ibby before ‘here‘ and ‘here‘.  We met at a disabilities conference not quite a year ago, where she was presenting.  Ib has changed my life.  I don’t know how else to describe someone who is not only a close friend, but who has patiently advised me, explained things that I didn’t understand, didn’t judge me, never shamed me, but instead was kind, loving, compassionate and very, very patient with me.  For those of you not familiar with Ibby, I hope you’ll go to her blog and read her writing.  If there is one thing I would like to see change regarding autism”awareness”, it is that the public become familiar with Autistic people like Ibby, who are tirelessly speaking out and patiently trying to bridge the massive gap between public perception surrounding autism and Autistic people, and reality.

There are a number of people who have been crucial in influencing me, Ibby is one of them.

Related topics

 

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Posted in Autism, Autism "Awareness", Elizabeth J. Grace

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What I Wish I’d Been Made Aware of When My Daughter Was Diagnosed With Autism

Posted on April 4, 2013 | 110 Comments

What follows are some of the things I wish I’d been told (and given) when we learned Emma was Autistic.  These are the things, in retrospect, I wish all those doctors, specialists, pediatricians, therapists and people who dedicate their lives and careers to autism had told me, but did not.  I believe our lives would have changed dramatically had we been told even a few of these things.  It is my hope that for those of you who may be at the beginning of your journey with an Autistic child, this list might help you avoid some of the many, many mistakes we made and a great deal of unnecessary pain.

1.  Seek out the work of Autistic people ~ most of the work I’ve listed was not available when my daughter was diagnosed, but it is now.  Take advantage of all that is out there, these people are leading the way.  If I had to choose just one thing that has had the single greatest impact on my life and the life of my daughter, it is these people.  My gratitude to all of them doesn’t come close to covering how I feel.

a)  Blogs by Autistic people:  (This is a partial list.  To see more blogs go to the blogroll ‘here‘ as well as each of these blogs often feature blogrolls as well ~  A Quiet Week, Autism Experts, Autistic Hoya, Chavisory, Cracked Mirror in Shalott, Emma’s Messiah Miracle of Music, Evil Autie, Gareeth, I’m Somewhere Else, It’s Bridget’s Word, Just Stimming,  Kyriolexy, Musings of an Aspie, Olliebean, Paula Durbin-Westby’s Blog, Radical Neurodivergence Speaking, thAutcast, The Third Glance, Tiny Grace Notes, Yes, That Too

b)  Watch these two documentaries:  Wretches and Jabberers and Vectors of Autism

c)  Read books written by Autistic people (again this is just a few of my favorites):  Barb Rentenbach’s, I might be you, any book written by Judy Endow, Peyton Goddard’s, i am intelligent, Loud Hands: Autistic People, Speaking, any book written by Tito Mukhopadhyay, S.R. Salas’s, Black and White, Michael Scott Monje Jr.’s Nothing is Right and A Field Guide to Earthlings: An autistic/Asperger view of neurotypical behavior

2. Autism is not a disease.  Read Don’t mourn for us by Jim Sinclair.  This may take some time for you to understand.  It’s okay.  Get the help and support you need so you can better help your child.  Try to think of autism in the same way you think about any groupings, a Mac and a PC, fiction, non-fiction, memoir and young adult, a shirt, a pair of pants, shoes and socks, a microwave and a gas heated oven.  Autistic, Neurotypical, Allistic, (or my personal favorite, coined by a friend) NT-NOS, we are all human beings.   Try not to judge one over another.  Judgment will not help you help your child.

3.  Presume Competence.  (This ‘post‘ helps explain what presuming competence means.)  If a therapy and/or professional does not approach your child with a presumption of competence, please consider finding one who does.  Tremendous long-term damage can come from not presuming competence.  Rethink how you view communication.  Listen to your child, not just to words, but to body language, facial expressions.  You may be surprised by the ways your child is communicating despite not being able to do so verbally.  Teach her to point with her index finger, first with support if needed and as time goes on, fade the support. Give her the appropriate tools and support so that she can learn to type or communicate by pointing to a letter board.    There are many wonderful iPad apps that can help with this.  Begin with sequencing games and colored tiles, or if she’s musical, notes.  Join them together to make patterns.  Show her first, have her mimic.

4.  Do not speak of or about your child as though they cannot and do not understand or hear you  (read Barb Rentenbach’s book for more on this).  This is something we did without thinking for years.  Sadly it is not the only regret I have, but one of many.  Still it is worth repeating.  Chances are your child can and does understand what you’re saying even if they do not show any signs that you recognize.

5.  Throw out everything you think you know and question everything.  There is a massive amount of misinformation/myths disguised as truth and fact regarding autism.  You may hear people say things like “They are in their own little world,” or “they are imprisoned behind their autism” these phrases are perhaps an accurate reflection of what non-Autistic people feel about the Autistic person in their life, but they serve to divide rather than unite and ultimately serve none of us. Be suspicious of anyone who says they know what causes autism or how to “treat” it.  Disregard any organization that describes autism and your child as tragic, an epidemic, a burden or any other word generally reserved for warfare.  If you read or hear something that causes you to feel fear, walk away, it is most likely inaccurate and intended to make you afraid.  None of us are able to help our children when we are terrified.  Fear can cause us to make decisions we will later regret.

6.  Set your child up to succeed.  My daughter is extremely sensitive to criticism.  Saying “No!” or criticizing her does not help her learn, but instead makes her feel badly about herself.  Encourage her with smiles and by asking her to try again.

7. Do not try to make your Autistic child behave like a non Autistic child, instead encourage your Autistic child to be the very best ______ (fill in your child’s name) they can be.  For more, read ‘this‘.

8.  Avoid comparing your child to any other child, Autistic or otherwise.  I have struggled with this one and continue to.  All I can say is, this is a work in progress. I hope one day to “know” this and refrain from doing it as it gets me into “compare and despair” thinking faster than anything else.  Emma is Emma.  She is best served when I remember this fact.

9. We parents are fallible.  We will make mistakes.  I’ve made dozens.  I wish I hadn’t made quite so many.  But I have.  If there is one thing I know without a doubt it is this – I will make mistakes, I am human.  I can admit my mistakes, tell my daughter how sorry I am, make a living amends to her by doing everything in my power not to repeat the mistake and continue to move forward without beating myself or anyone else up.  As my wise mother once said, “Show and tell your children over and over how much you love them, and one day they will forgive you.”

10. Get to know Autistic adults.  One of the single biggest misperceptions surrounding autism is that autism is only seen in children.  Autistic adults are often our best teachers and  many of them are leading the way so that our children’s lives might be better than their own.  These people are courageously and tirelessly pushing back against the deeply ingrained prejudices, biases and misperceptions that are rampant within our society.  (See #1)  It is my goal to honor these people who have beaten a path ahead of my daughter so that she may more easily live in this world that so often will not and does not accommodate her or give her what she needs to flourish.  They are speaking out, let’s all get behind them and give them the microphone so that more can hear what they are saying.  One day, the person holding that microphone might just be your child!

The year after Emma was diagnosed ~ 2005

Em - 2005

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Posted in Autism, diagnosis, Parenting

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Acceptance And A Webinar

Posted on April 1, 2013 | 21 Comments

When my daughter was diagnosed first with PDD-NOS and later with autism, I easily fell into the ~ I-completely-love-and-accept-my-daughter-but-I-do-not-accept-her-autism ~ mindset.  At the time, this seemed perfectly logical and I didn’t think a great deal more about it.  Autism was the “problem” after all, not her, and once we got rid of the autism, everything else would fall into place.  When people said the word “acceptance” and “autism” in the same sentence I nodded my head yes, while my mind carefully separated autism from my daughter, plucked the word from the sentence and placed it into a box before closing the lid.

It took a very long time for me to understand that my daughter and autism were not to be separated.  And it wasn’t until I began developing real friendships with Autistic adults that I stopped trying or wanting to separate the two.  Acceptance is much more than tolerating something or saying – okay I won’t actively fight this any longer.  Acceptance is an embrace, it’s understanding and actively celebrating difference, it’s about looking inward and asking questions.  It’s about self-reflection and digging deep into the darkness of preconceived beliefs and being willing to be wrong.  It’s about saying – I don’t know and I don’t understand, will you help me?  It’s about being vulnerable and not “right” and it’s about the excitement of discovery and being curious and open to different ways of being and seeing the world.  To me, it is the most exciting way to live life.

To say I’m grateful to all those people in my life whose neurology falls under the Autistic label, would be a vast understatement.

Today at 4PM eastern time, Brenda Rothman of Mama Be Good, Melody Latimer of AS Parenting and I will be speaking about Parenting Toward Acceptance.  The webinar can be found at the following link – http://www.icdl.com.

In other news, I was more than a little surprised to see this – Top 10 Social HealthMakers

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Posted in Autism, Autism Acceptance, presume competence

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“Splinter Skills” and Other Words We Use

Posted on March 20, 2013 | 37 Comments

When Em was not yet three years old we received her diagnosis and began the long trek through, what appeared to us at the time to be, the treacherous terrain of autism.  All the things we admired, her various abilities, all those things I had identified as wonderfully “Emma” were now reduced to a single word “autism.”  I remember bragging about the fact that Emma, at the age of 18 months had taught herself how to pump her legs on a big kid’s swing, only to be told after her diagnosis that “kids with autism will often display splinter skills.” When I then commented that my daughter was extremely independent it was said that her autism caused her to shun other children and people, thus reducing her independence to nothing more than, yet another example of, her autism.

After awhile I felt I didn’t know who my daughter was, other than “autistic”.  That word seemed to so thoroughly obscure her in the minds of so many experts and people in the know.  Autism, it seemed, meant lacking and less than and not capable.   Whenever my daughter displayed things that could not be neatly placed in the deficit box, it was tossed into the “splinter skills” box.  It seemed no matter what she did it was viewed as “deficient” even when it wasn’t.  I remember feeling I finally understood what people meant when they talked about their child being imprisoned or all those awful images that abound of children silently, sadly, standing behind impenetrable walls of glass or behind bars of steel,  their small hands gripping the cold metal as they silently watch the world go by.  All of this, the words and images, showing us, telling us what we could and should expect were like seeing train tracks descending into hell.  Who knew it would take me eight years to understand that so many of those impenetrable walls of glass were constructs made by us.

If we did the same thing to those who are born without Autism, if we talked about our non-Autistic neurology as a deficit and identified all the ways in which it would cause us problems and difficulty, would we not despair when our non-autistic child was born as well?  Take your own life as an example and imagine that when you were born you were seen as a great disappointment.  Think about how each time you did something well it was dismissed as a “splinter skill” and was seen as yet another example of all that was “wrong” with you.  Think about what it would do to your self-esteem if your interests and passions were spoken of as “obsessions” or actively undermined and limited because they were seen as “unhealthy”.  It’s a double standard we have.  We non Autistics are praised, admired, given awards and accolades for our passions and obsessive interests.  People describe us as “driven”, “ambitious” or any number of other words used to describe the things that interest us.  But think if instead we were denigrated, ridiculed and scolded.  What does that do to a person?

The way we speak of and about our children, the way we think about their neurology, the way we attempt to “help” them “fit in”, these are the things I hope will change because it is not helping us parent our children, who need our help, it is not helping educators teach our children, who need to be taught, but mostly it is not helping our children be all that they can be.   My husband once said, “People spend all their time and energy trying to teach their Autistic kids to be something they’re not, when they should be spending all their time teaching their kids to be all they can be.”

Emma’s favorite work of art “Railroad Nostalgia” at the Scope Show in NYC.

Train tracks

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Posted in Autism, Parenting, special needs

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