Author Archives: arianezurcher

Silence and the Words That Fill it

Emma has been writing stories to give as Christmas presents to a couple of special people in her life.  It is an exhausting process for her and one that takes a great deal of time.  As the person who is witnessing and encouraging her to keep going, it is always revelatory.  Her gift to me is her ongoing commitment to keep showing up for the hard work that is required of her to communicate in ways most people consider most important, with words.   However as I sit with her I am increasingly aware of how much, those of us who are talkers, often miss.   Because of my daughter, I have a heightened appreciation for the beauty of silence words seek to fill.

I cannot quote anything from the amazing stories Emma has written for family members, as they are gifts to be given tonight and tomorrow.  But I can quote this, which Em wrote in response to my question – “Tell me one thing about Christmas?”

Emma wrote, “Christmas means love and family.”  (This, from an eleven year old.)

There is nothing more to say.

Merry Christmas to those of you who celebrate and for everyone else, may you experience love and family, in whatever way those words may mean for you this holiday season.

Travel, Friendship and Sensory Overload

A couple of days ago my friend Ib, of the blog Tiny Grace Notes, whom I was staying with, drove me to the airport.  Ib knows me pretty well and could tell I was nervous, as I have become increasingly as I get older, about getting to the airport, going through security and making my flight, even though we were leaving ample time to do all of that.  Still the combination of nerves due to traveling, my busy work schedule, being away from my family for so long, being tired and going to an unfamiliar airport had me on high alert.

It was snowing a little so we needed to have the window wipers on or Ib wouldn’t be able to see well enough to drive safely.  But the wipers made a scraping noise that I found almost intolerable.  Every time the wipers ran across the window they vibrated and made a noise that was akin to finger nails being raked along a chalk board.  It was jarring and I could feel my body tense, so I gritted my teeth and began an internal dialogue with myself to try to calm and as I did all of this, I thought of my daughter.  I thought about what it must be like to be bombarded with sounds and sensations that she cannot speak of, or if she does speak of them, the words that she speaks are not what she intends to say, so people are left confused, asking questions or simply ignoring.

As we drove and Ib, being Ib, had already sensed my tension and anxiety and was doing everything in her power to take care of me, I thought about how it is only recently that I’ve become hyper aware of certain sounds, sights, tastes, smells, and how things feel to the touch.  It is because of my daughter and other Autistic people I’ve met and/or read and heard speak about such things, that I have begun to see how, things I once learned to ignore are now things I cannot ignore, like those window wipers scraping against the window and making me so upset it was all I could do to sit quietly and not begin to cry.  I am grateful for this as it makes me far more understanding of what my daughter and others might be going through at times.

Ib began to very quietly and gently tell me what she was about to do, before she did it.  So, for example, she would say things like, (I’m making this up as I can’t remember her exact words now) “just up ahead I’m going to slow a little and get into the right lane” or “the exit we want is in another 2 miles to the left” or whatever it was, she would say these things in that lovely, mellifluous voice of hers and I began to calm down.  Ibby was modeling, actively demonstrating what I need to do for my daughter.  She was also being a kind, sensitive and deeply compassionate friend to me and I sat there, my eyes fixed on the traffic around us, feeling so thankful that I know her and am friends with her.

As we drove along and I began to relax a little, I imagined a place where non autistic people would go where they would be given the very real experience of what it might be like for an Autistic person.  I fantasized that there would be all manner of sensations, highly elevated and constantly changing as examples of what might be another person’s experience of daily life.  Just as I found those window wipers so harsh and grating that I could not engage in conversation, I imagined that this place would both bombard the person as well as under stimulate so the person could experience what it is like to alternate between not being able to hear, taste, see, feel, smell and during all of this, demands would be placed on the person.  Not just demands, but the person would be required to answer questions within a specific time frame and if they didn’t answer or got the answer wrong they would be required to go back and start all over again.  However regardless of whether they got the answer right the sensations would remain, the things they would try to do to calm themselves would not be allowed or taken away and they would be forced to stay in this place indefinitely.

As Ibby helped me retrieve my bags from the car I felt tremendous relief knowing that I would be able to manage the curbside check-in, knew I would not lose the ability to speak, knew I would be able to find the correct line to go through for security, find the correct gate and wait for my flight.  All the things I do without thinking, without questioning, things I take for granted.  But I also was aware that this relief is not what others, others like my daughter, necessarily experience.

Why People Walk With Two Legs Instead of Four

Emma wrote this folk tale yesterday.  She gave us permission to post it here on the blog.  It took her 45 minutes, pointing to one letter after another.  She is so, so talented!

Why People Walk With Two Legs Instead of Four

“Many years ago, people were walking on all fours like many animals.  Reaching for food meant they could use front arms or back legs.  They were very strong.  Other animals were not afraid of them.  They looked at other animals as family.

“There was much to see from being so low to the ground.  There was much to touch from living in the dirt and the grass.  They tasted whatever they could. People now are more fussy with food.  The smells were all they knew.

“What is missing?

“You are right if you said:  sound.  People heard sounds from high above and they did not know where they were coming from.  The sounds were soft and silky.   Days went by without knowledge of sound.  One people leader wanted badly to hear it louder.  The only way she thought possible was to be taller.  She practiced standing on her back legs and it was successful.  Everyone else followed.  The soft and silky sounds were birds chirping.”

Emma began writing this series of folk tales while we were in Texas last month.  She has written five now and the third one was entitled, Why People Walk on Two Legs.  You can read it by clicking on the link, but in it she wrote, “They had to work in the fields wearing knee-shoes and regular shoes.  They could not run fast that way.”  I love that!  She goes on to talk about a king who had outlawed walking, until he was injured from all that crawling around and the only remedy was for him to walk, whereupon he made it legal for people to walk on their two feet and so they did, never looking back.  To me, that story was about how until we experience what another goes through, we often remain divided, though I have no idea if that was her intent.   This one is completely different, even though the titles are similar.

I am in Chicago at the TASH conference, where IbbyLeah Kelly and I are presenting first thing this morning on Relationships and Multi-media (so excited to be with my two wonderful friends!)

Em giving the Queen’s wave astride her favorite statue – Balto

Em on Balto

Autism Speaks and Signal Boosting

Signal boosting.  I love that phrase, it reminds me of a train yard.  That’s the image that comes to mind when I write those two words.  Signal boosting is when someone else shares a link or another’s writing either on a blog or on some other form of social media.  It’s the single most appreciated and important tool, those of us who are not Autistic, can use to help amplify the words of those we support.

The other day I signal boosted a letter to the sponsors of Autism Speaks from ASAN, Autistic Self Advocacy Network, – you can read that letter ‘here‘, which outlines why they are asking sponsors to reconsider lending their support to Autism Speaks.  I thought it was an excellent letter and as such, I decided to post it on my timeline on Facebook, with the heading, “For all who may be confused as to why so many are asking to boycott organizations that sponsor Autism Speaks, this is a wonderful explanation.”  And that’s when the proverbial shit hit the fan.  I’m not going to derail this post by going into the specifics of the comments I then received because I want to use this time to discuss Autism Speaks and why I object to what they are doing.  Again ASAN’s letter is an excellent point by point summation of exactly this, but I will attempt to give my personal views and why I have come to believe as I do.

Many defenders of Autism Speaks point out all the “good” they have done and continue to do.  They highlight insurance reform, their 100 day tool kit, autism awareness, spending millions of dollars on research, etc and yet, even if every single thing people who support Autism Speaks believe they are doing that is positive and helpful to Autistic people were true, (which I, for one, do not believe) it still does not take away from the fact that Autism Speaks does a great deal that hurts Autistic people and my child.  Autism Speaks uses its power and massive reach to shape how the public views autism and autistic people.  Suzanne Wright’s A Call for Action is a good example of this.  She begins with –

“This week is the week America will fully wake up to the autism crisis.

If three million children in America one day went missing – what would we as a country do?”

“Went missing” furthers the misconception that our autistic children were once here, and now are gone.  This idea is not helpful to anyone, least of all the parents who are new to a diagnosis and their young children.  Nothing positive, absolutely nothing positive comes from this kind of language, in fact this is exactly the sort of thinking that had my husband and I pursuing all kinds of “cures” not so long ago.  It was this thinking, that my daughter was buried beneath “autism” and that if I could just find a way to release her from its tortured grip, I would have done the noble thing, the right thing for my daughter.  As painful as it all was, as terrified as we were, she would thank us later… this was my thinking.

And yet, none of this helped me find ways to help her communicate.  Once we found a way to help her write and find her “voice” that was when the real miracles began to happen.  Helping my daughter communicate is what she is thanking us for now, not all those so-called “cures” we traumatized her with.  And please know, I mean that word, “traumatized” literally.  You can read more about some of that trauma ‘here‘, ‘here‘ and ‘here‘.

Suzanne Wright continues with increasingly alarmist, even threatening language.

“And, what about their parents? How much can we ask them to handle? How long will it be before the exhaustion makes them ill?  How long before they break?

“How long before they break?”  Given that several parents have recently attempted and some have succeeded in killing their Autistic children, this language is particularly repugnant.  This is not a call for action, it is a call for fear.  It sets autism up as something to go to war against.  It dismisses the horror of these crimes against their own children as something that is practically inevitable.    It suggests that autism is the reason people would go to such extremes, but nowhere does Autism Speaks suggest it is the public perception, a perception they have had a massive hand in creating, that makes the lives of families and our Autistic children more difficult and yet I can tell you, it  does.  What they are doing, what they are saying is making my daughter’s life harder, not easier.

Those horrible ads (ransom notes) they posted all over New York City in 2007 and then took down because of the public outcry, the videos of parents who speak about their children, while their child is right there, but because their child does not speak it is assumed they cannot understand what others are saying… these are the things people believe, but that I have learned from my non-speaking Autistic friends and my daughter are simply not true.  My daughter understands everything that is said around her and she is not alone.  So many who do not speak have written about this, Ido, Naoki, Amy, Nick, Joey, Barb, Carly, Tito…  too many to ignore or to dismiss as an anomaly.

In one video Autism Speaks produced a few years ago, the mother describes how she thinks about driving off the George Washington Bridge with her Autistic daughter in the back seat, the same daughter who goes over, numerous times, as her mother talks to the camera, to hug her. This video continues to haunt me.  I no longer believe that child did not understand what her mother was saying.  My daughter understood everything we said in front of her, even though at the time she gave no indication she did.  I now know differently.  What must it have been like to be that child, to hear your mother saying to a camera crew that she thinks about killing herself and you and that the only reason she does not is because of her other non autistic child?  What would that be like to be that child?

These ad campaigns, these videos, these words, these “calls” for action DO have a huge impact on what people then think about autism, about Autistic people, about my daughter.   People make assumptions about my daughter’s intellectual capabilities all the time.  If you are curious to read some of what my daughter is writing these days, please click ‘here‘, ‘here‘ and ‘here‘.  None of what she is writing is thanks to anything Autism Speaks has done.  Autism Speaks absolutely impacts my daughter’s life, and they aren’t doing her any favors.  

In the end, it doesn’t matter what good Autism Speaks has accomplished, until they really understand why so many are so angry, as long as they continue to not include Autistic people in any position of power, they will continue to be attacked by the very people they claim to represent.  How long will it take?  What will need to happen before Autism Speaks stops talking and LISTENS to those it keeps insisting it represents.  So many Autistic people are furious. And so am I.  All their power, resources, money could be used to do so much good for Autistic people, they could make such a difference in the lives of so many…

I stand beside my Autistic brothers and sisters and I will signal boost their words at every opportunity I get until they are able to take the microphone away from Autism Speaks and people begin to hear their voices. Their voices are what the public needs to hear, NOT Autism Speaks.

Image of Melanie Yergeau with a sign of a red X over a puzzle piece.  To the left of the image are the words “people not puzzles”

images-1

 

Man and Woman – A Tale

This story was written by Emma and was inspired by a photograph she was shown of a small house built in the middle of a lake atop a large rock with steps carved into the rock leading into the water.  Against one side of the house was a kayak and paddle.  (To read more about how Emma is writing, please click, ‘here‘ and ‘here‘.)

“Man and woman landed into marriage.  Both worked hard to make thousands of pennies.  There was trouble when they decided on what to do with the thousands.  Woman wanted to buy a boat; man did not agree.  Man and woman gave fighting a try, but it was not for them.

Welcome to their new home.”

Earlier when first shown the photograph (I’ve posted it below) and asked to make a comment about it, Emma wrote, “There is many reasons to believe it is fall.”

When asked to write one question she thought people would ask the person(s) who live in this house, she wrote, “Do you know how to swim?”

house-river-serbia_57361_600x450

Trapeze, Knitting and New York City

“Put it on the blog!” Emma said, happily.  And so I am.

Emma has been going to trapeze school for several years now and loves it.  Absolutely loves it.  Yesterday she told me she’d like to learn how to fly an airplane and learn to knit.  I can’t help her out with learning to fly a plane, though one of her uncles can, BUT I can help her out with knitting as I learned from my mother and during a brief period in my life when I was a fashion designer, I designed…  wait for it… yup, that’s right.  Knitwear.

In fact, I used to be a contributing editor at Elle Magazine where they featured a hand knit with the pattern on the back of the page.  This was long ago, as Emma would say, and for a short time, I had my own page where once a month I designed a hand knit and it was photographed like this… A beige hoodie, which originally I had designed to have a faux fur trim around the edge of the hood, but my boss nixed that idea and so I had to remove the knitted trim.

Hoodie

GreenknitThis was during the 8o’s when magazines like Elle gave editors like me a car and driver.  Remember this is New York City where having a car and driver at your disposal is something people only dream of.  It was at a time when CBGB’s reigned and Studio 54 was a place many of us had danced in.  The meatpacking district was still used to slaughter meat and transvestites and transexuals hung out just west of it on the edges of the Hudson River.   Times Square was considered squalid by most and Nell’s Nightclub was in full swing.

It was a different time in New York City.  Yarn shops flourished.  On the subway, it wasn’t unusual to see people knitting, and I was one of them.

So yes, Emma.  I will teach you to knit.

“Feeling knowledge…”

“Feeling knowledge is reality understood.”

This is what Emma wrote over the weekend.   Yeah.  I’ve been unraveling that one  ever since she wrote it…  At this point there are a couple of things I have come to realize:  First – if I can just keep up with her, I’m doing really well.  Second –  presuming competence is a vast concept and is much more about me and my limitations than it is about the person I’m applying this idea to.  And third – the amount we do not know about autism far surpasses that which we do.

“Feeling knowledge is reality understood.”

EmContemplatesNature copy

Celebrating Gratitude

Emma and I discussed yesterday’s post and I asked her what she thought of the way I’ve described her as an “unreliable speaker.”  I haven’t liked how negative that sounds, though I have meant it more factually, and was not suggesting anything beyond those exact words.  She wrote, “Yes, unreliable.  Mostly talking other words even though not what I think.”

We discussed the comments many have written about believing her and how today is, for many, a day celebrating gratitude. I told her how grateful I was to be able to communicate with her.  She told me I could post some of what she wrote in response…

“Decade of ignorance dead. Deny ideas of intelligence can directly minimize the amount of self-worth one feels. I am grateful many are believing in me.”

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

This photograph of Emma was taken outside my old studio by Jackie Maillis.  Thanks Jackie!

Power

 

 

“People Do Not Believe Me”

“People do not believe me” was what Emma wrote on our last day in Texas last week.  Prior to that sentence she wrote a message to Richard and me that left me in tears because it expressed her gratitude for believing in her and for fighting for her right to be thought competent and intelligent.

One day my daughter will be able to write what she feels and believes independently, of this I have absolutely no doubt.  When that day occurs, she can choose what and when she wants to write such things, but for now, I will keep this post to my own views and opinions.

As many of you know, it was not so very long ago that I was one of those people Emma was referring to.  I have a great many feelings as I write that sentence, but as I trace back what was going on and why I didn’t or couldn’t or wouldn’t believe in all, that it turns out, she is capable of, it wasn’t that I didn’t want to, it wasn’t that I didn’t hope, it was that everything I saw, heard and thought was muddied by what I read and was told and was confirmed by what I thought I was seeing.

When I met people face to face (as opposed to reading their words or hearing of them) like Barb Rentenbach, Tracy Thresher, Larry Bissonnette, Amy Sequenzia, young Nick, Joey, Jamie, Jenn, Mark, Tito, Sarah and countless others who do not speak, or whose spoken utterances are not in keeping with what they write, I began to question what I once believed.  It was during a presentation Barb Rentenbach and Lois Prislovsky gave at the Autcom Conference in the fall of 2012 that I thought, okay, maybe, just maybe, my daughter is not saying what she intends to say.   At that same conference I went to another presentation with Larry Bissonnette, Tracy Thresher, Pascal Cheng, Harvey Lavoy where a young boy, younger than Emma, typed on his iPad extremely insightful comments pertaining to the topic and again I thought, maybe, just maybe my daughter is like that boy and I just have to find a way to help her communicate.

It was the first time I’d really considered the disconnect between speech and intent.  It was the first time I began to wonder whether all this energy being placed on output of spoken language was the best way to help her communicate.  You see, up until then I bought into the idea that if we could just get her to talk, we would be giving her the tools she needed to say what she thought, that the words that came out of her mouth were indicative of what was going on in her mind.  We even would give her spoken prompts, say a sentence and have her repeat it, as though if she could just repeat the words, even though they were dictated and not her words, they would make sense and the connections would be made.  And when they didn’t seem to build to a critical mass, instead of questioning the push for spoken output, I questioned what was going on in her brain.

This was a huge mistake, it turns out.  Huge.  But I didn’t understand.  I didn’t see the error in this thinking.  I could not believe.  Not yet.

And then I met these wonderfully resilient, creative, intelligent people who did not communicate through spoken words, but instead wrote beautifully, poetic words that put together made equally gorgeous sentences that spoke of insights and wisdom and hope and strength and courage and compassion and I was blown away.  At first I thought each person was an anomaly.  I told myself they couldn’t possibly be representative of many, they had to be one in a million… and then I met more and more and eventually, even I could no longer doubt what I was seeing and witnessing, this critical mass… this unleashing of hundreds of voices, each unique and yet all…. all were communicating what was in their minds and many spoke of that disconnect that occurred between a thought and what then came out of their mouths.

“my mouth constantly talks different from what I think…” Emma wrote.

“People do not believe me.”

“Yes,” I told her, “but that is changing…  that will change.”

It is my promise to my daughter.  I will not stop writing until it is no longer necessary to say these things.

Lois Prislovsky, Barb Rentenbach and Emma

L,B&E copy

Shifting Our Beliefs

“It’s a simple program, but it’s not easy.”  These were the words I remember someone saying to me during those first few weeks so long ago when I entered a 12-step program.  As with most of the things people said during those first few years when everything was still a blur, I heard the words, but didn’t really understand or care what was meant.  Not really.  The slogans seemed trite and silly. I heard them, I read them, but I didn’t pay much attention to them other than to make fun of them.  And then as the days of not acting on my addictions piled up and my head began to clear, as life continued along and I with it, I started to make sense of this phrase and so many more that were said during those early days.

Like everything in life, things are rarely how I expect them to be.  The years since I walked into those recovery rooms have not unfolded as I thought they would.  I am not doing what I imagined I would be doing, my life does not resemble the life I once led nor does it resemble the life I imagined for myself.  All of it comes as a surprise.  Perhaps the biggest is how much I have come to love so many of these slogans that I once viewed with contempt.

The things I learned in those early days of recovery are things I continue to apply to my life now:   “Take it easy,”  “Keep it simple,”  “Practice the principles in all our affairs,”  “Circumstances do not make us who we are, they reveal to us who we are,” “Don’t curse the darkness, light a candle,”  “Compare and despair,”  “We’re responsible for the effort, not the outcome,” “Change is a process, not an event,” “resentment is like drinking poison and hoping the other person will die,” “sorrow is looking back; worry is looking around; hope is looking forward,” “serenity is not freedom from the storm, but peace amid the storm,”  “F.E.A.R. – False Evidence Appearing Real.”

There are too many program slogans to list here, but almost all of them can be applied to every aspect of my life today, particularly when it comes to autism.  There is so much that I feel discouraged by when it comes to autism, what is said, what we are told, what is believed to be “true”.  As I continue to learn, as my daughter continues to write, the farther away we drift from the commonly held beliefs about autism and my child and friends who are Autistic.  I read articles written about autism and Autistic people and I recognize none of my friends, daughter or anyone I know.   The articles and views seem completely disconnected from reality.  I read what so many other parents say and I have to remember to remind myself that I once believed these things too.

Recently someone sent me the link to a book review of Naoki Higashida’s book The Reason I Jump.  The review was written by someone who works in the field of autism and yet was incredulous that Naoki talks with such insight about his social interactions, speaks of feeling ashamed when his body does not cooperate with his mind.  The reviewer wonders aloud what (if any) the implications are for others who are non-speaking and Autistic.  Of everything written about Naoki’s book, this was the review that has continued to haunt me.  Here is someone who has spent his life researching and working in the field of autism and yet, Naoki’s book comes as a surprise.  How is this possible?

It’s possible because those who are in the field have been given incorrect information and then look for verification that align with what they’ve been told.  Yet this bias is not how research should be done.  Until we are willing to accept the idea that maybe, just maybe what we believe to be true is not, we will not be able to believe anything different.  And as a result all of our Autistic children, friends and people will suffer the consequences.

Emma – 2003

*Em 2003

Returning Home

Em and I returned home Friday night.  It was an exhilarating trip, but also an exhausting one.  These trips always are.  We went from having daily sessions with Soma (you can read more about Emma’s experience working with Soma ‘here‘, ‘here‘ and ‘here‘ and more about Soma and RPM by clicking ‘here‘) that were so incredibly exciting, I could barely take in all that my daughter was writing.  Personal, gut wrenchingly, painful insights, loving notes of gratitude to my husband and me that made me weep with joy, but also bittersweet because it is she who has had to put up with us and not the other way around.  Her writing displays an almost unfathomable intellect, wisdom beyond her years as well as compassion and patience for all who do not understand her, for those who doubt, for those who do not believe her and all she is capable of, for all who talk down to her, my daughter is a beacon of kindness, forgiveness and compassion.

I do not want people to come away with ideas about saintliness, holiness or angels being dropped down from the heavens and inhabiting her body.  I cannot and do not believe in any of that and it dismisses the many challenges and struggles my daughter must endure.  Above all else my daughter is a human being, just like you, just like me, very much grounded on this earth and in this life, but she is also exemplary in her ability to see the good in others.  It is something I am trying hard to emulate.  It is as though the more she writes about what she believes and thinks, the angrier I become.  The more enraged I am that we have all believed so easily, without question, the standard assumptions about Autistic people and autism and what that means.

I understand that for many they just cannot believe someone like my child is capable of knowing so much despite having had little formal education, but instead has spent all of her school years segregated in special education schools where she reads below age level literature and is taught the value of nickels, dimes and pennies because it is assumed she does not understand concepts such as money and time.  I understand.  I do.  I was one of those people not so long ago.  But now I know otherwise.  We are fortunate that her current school is open, willing and interested in learning all she is capable of.  They have expressed interest and their intent to support her and to help in any way they can.  We will be revising her IEP soon.  It will be quite a revision!

Now we are home and I know better than to expect I will be able to pick up where Soma left off.  I know better than to think I will be able to sit down with my daughter and accomplish the same level of writing I witnessed this past week.  I have to pick up from where I left off before our trip to Texas.  This can feel incredibly frustrating and even depressing, but I am learning to not delve too deeply in despair, but rather continue moving forward with the knowledge that I will and already have progressed in my ability to support my daughter better each day so that one day she will be able to converse with me on a similar level as she does with Soma.

This disparity between what Soma is able to do and what those at home then try, has caused a few to claim that therefore Soma’s method is flawed or is cause for suspicion and doubt.  What I have come to understand is that my Autistic child is intensely sensitive to her relationships.  I cannot sit down and expect to have her write to me as she does with someone who developed this system and who has fine tuned it, perfected it along the way, while working with close to a dozen people every day for over ten years now.   It is akin to expecting that I will be able to set a diamond as well as a master jeweler who has been perfecting his craft over the last twenty years or after taking a painting class be able to create something on par with Rembrandt or after taking French 101 go to France and speak fluently.  We do not expect any of these things from each other or ourselves, and yet, people decide something like RPM will be easy and simple and anyone will be able to do it instantly and when they cannot, the flaw is in RPM.  I have met too many other people who are practicing RPM to see that it is this thinking that is flawed.

Em chose toenail polish for both of us!

Matching toenails

“Why People Walk on Two Legs” – A Folk Tale By Emma

What follows is one in a series of folk tales Emma is in the process of writing since we arrived in Texas visiting Soma Mukhopadhyay.  I’ve written about Soma quite a bit; for more posts about Soma  click ‘here‘, ‘here‘,  and ‘here‘.  Anyone who is curious about Soma’s Rapid Prompting Method (RPM) please visit her website, which is full of terrific information.

A quick note about how I transcribe Emma’s words.  Emma points with a pencil to letters on a laminated letter board that Soma holds in front of her, though she also has Emma hold the laminated board herself from time to time.  No one touches Emma as she does this.  Every few words that Emma spells, Soma takes the pencil from her and writes what she has written and repeats the words out loud.  Emma then proceeds.  As there is no way to punctuate the words as she spells them, I take my notes, transcribe them and ask her to tell me where to put commas and periods.  This story, Emma wrote yesterday and afterward told me, “You could put it on the blog!”

                  Why People Walk on Two Legs ~
A Folk Tale By Emma

Long ago people walked like animals because it was funny.  They had to work in the fields wearing knee-shoes and regular shoes.  They could not run fast that way.

In ancient Turkey there was a man who was sort of a doctor.  He had to be very careful while treating his patients.  He saw most of his patients had bone injury, so he asked them to stand.  It was against the law.  Kings punished anyone who walked that way.

But one day the king hurt his back.  The doctor treated him.  Finally the king made it legal.  Today it is natural to walk the way we walk.

The end

Emma chose this image from a google search for images of “evolution of man walking”

evolution

A Tale: “Horses Will Never Fly”

This tale was written by Emma and she has generously agreed to allow me to share it here with all of you.  She will finish it at a later date since she was too tired to do so now.

“Horses Will Never Fly ~ By Emma

Long ago horses were mean animals.  If anyone tried to go near, they charged at them.  They had big wings and flew higher than eagles.

One day they flew around and caused so much wind that the dust began to fly.  Dust and sand covered big areas of earth, making deserts.  People and trees were buried below the dust.

Finally when they rested they saw their wings had begun to shed…”

Originally Emma ended this with “They stopped flying.  Horses will never fly.  The end.”  But once we returned to our hotel and discussed it more, Em said it wasn’t quite finished and promised to finish it later when she wasn’t so tired.  In addition, I added the punctuation with Emma’s approval.  As there is no way to punctuate from a stencil board it must be done afterwards.

These sessions are exhausting and she works so hard.   Her story reminded me of Rudyard Kipling’s Just So Stories that I loved as a child.  I cannot wait to read what Emma writes next!

Emma chose this image to accompany her tale from a search for “winged horses.”  It was attributed to redorbit.com

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Emma’s Letter

Yesterday Soma (for more about Soma, RPM and the Halo Center please click on this link) spoke with Emma about ethanol, fuel and bio fuel, what happens to plants and animals when their bodies decompose, green house gasses, carbon dioxide, fossil fuels, how all of this can affect the economy, and finally Soma asked, “Suppose you are giving a speech at the UN.  What kind of speech would you give?”

Emma gave me permission to quote the speech she then wrote.

“Dear World,

Heat is important, but the world also needs snow.  We must think about the future and use fossil fuel wisely.

Personally, I like car rides, but I am going to walk more.  Walking is good for the heart.”

After we returned to our hotel, I told Em about her Grandpa who had to use a wheelchair when he could no longer walk.  We talked about other ways of getting around and how public transportation, particularly some of New York City’s older subway stations are inaccessible to those who use wheelchairs.  We discussed “green cities” and what that means.  We went to a website to look at photos of “15 Green Cities” and it turns out Austin, Texas is listed as the 15th.

I am too tired and do not have enough time to write more about our first day, and, as always, I need time to process all that has happened and is continuing to happen.

Every day I am being shown that what I believe it means to “presume competence” does not go nearly far enough.  Every. Single. Day.

S&E

 

A Word of Thanks

Em and I are traveling again, so after publishing Emma’s post debut, and what a first post it was (!!!!), for the “This is Autism Flashblog” we got on an airplane.  As we didn’t get to our hotel until after eight in the evening, we didn’t read all the lovely comments so many of you left until quite late.  Thank you.  As a parent it means a great deal to have such an outpouring of support and encouragement for Emma’s first post, particularly as it was a post that was incredibly personal.  Emma wrote, “Thank you everyone”  before falling asleep.

The flashblog has almost 250 posts at the moment.  It was a wild success and shows the range and complexity of views about what exactly “autism” is.  Anyone who hasn’t gone over there to read what others had to say, I encourage you to  spend some time doing so.

There is so much I want to say about the flashblog, autism, grassroots protesting, being the parent of a child whose neurology I do not share, but have overlaps with, functioning labels, how we can all influence change, how the more of us who join in, the quicker these shifts will occur, why I keep showing up here day after day instead of sleeping for another couple of hours, but I don’t have time this morning as we have an appointment in another hour that we cannot be late for.

Thankfully I had the foresight to opt for a GPS system on our rental car and do not anticipate getting lost as I did the last time we made this trip.  As a testament to this decision, Emma did not once shout from the backseat, “Oh no!  We’re going the wrong way!” last night, for which I am extremely grateful.

The adventure continues!

Em