Category Archives: Parenting

Emma’s Presentation at The ICare4Autism Conference

Emma came up with the title of yesterday’s presentation – My Body Does Not Obey My Mind.  In preparation for our talk, Emma wrote, “how about discussing gleeful shouts and irreverent clapping as expressions of joy, but that many will see as indications of simple mindedness?”  I told her I thought this was a great idea.

During our presentation Emma found a number of people in the audience who happily engaged in making faces with her. One of her favorite faces is one she refers to as “fish lips”.   She proceeded to demonstrate “fish lips” and then, after successfully encouraging others to participate, she typed, “Doing fish lips to the audience is an expression of funny playfulness, but can be misinterpreted as simple mindedness.  Silliness is acceptable in those who are believed smart, but for those like me, it indicates stupidity.”  It was a powerful demonstration of yet another way in which someone like Emma is often misunderstood.

Before leaving to give our presentation yesterday,  Emma and I had the following conversation:

Ariane:  What other examples can you give that would demonstrate the body/mind disconnect, besides what you think and then what you might say out loud in contrast?
Emma:  Things like not being able to sit still and needing to jump up.   There are many examples like that.   In my mind I am graceful and move like a dancer and speak with passion and the articulation of an acting coach.
Ariane:  Aw… that’s really beautifully expressed, Emma.  Really, really powerful.
I need to be careful not to take control of our presentation, because you must take the lead.
Emma:  You will be very good.  Don’t worry, I will be charming and will have your back.
Ariane:  Oh, Emma, thank you for the encouragement, that means a lot to me.
Are you going to ask me questions if you think there’s something I’m missing or not talking about?
Emma:  Yes, thoughts of fear worry you, but I know what I want to say.

This morning, we again discussed our presentation, which began with me asking Emma how she thought it went:

Emma:  Spoken words cannot compete with typed power house wording of dramatic charm.
Ariane:  You were charming!  And, as always, so insightful!  I’m so proud of you.
Emma:  Teaching by real life demonstration, pleases all.
Ariane:  I agree!  What was the experience like for you, sitting in front of such a large audience?
Emma:  Happiness, overwhelming joy to be able to show off my inner eloquent and funny self.
Ariane:  You were eloquent and very funny!  I think you touched a great many people yesterday.  I think many will rethink what they have believed about autism and those they care for, who are autistic, because of you.
Emma:  Brave honesty opens minds and hearts.  I hope people will question what they have been told.
Ariane:  I do too.
Emma:  Horrible ideas about people cause many to do terrible things, and treat someone like me with repetitive demands for compliance.
Ariane:  Perhaps meeting you, will make them pause and reconsider their approach.
Emma:  Showing humor and compassion for them is my belief and way of prodding them to venture down different roads.
Ariane:  You are such a wonderful example of loving kindness put into action!
Emma:  Worry and fear are fueled by furious words spoken harshly, humor soothes, shining sunny rays spreading hope.
Ariane:  It’s a much needed hope.  I’m so proud of you.
Emma:  Knowing pride brightens, giving gifts of hope dulls years of lingering sadness for schooling gone awry.
Richard videotaped our presentation and we are hoping to have at least a few clips of it available on our YouTube channel this afternoon.  Emma ended our presentation by getting up on the stage with the microphone and belting out a rousing rendition of September’s You’ll Never See Me Again.  We have that on tape as well!  Stay tuned…
Emma chose this photograph, taken last week while in Cape Cod, until we can pull some photos from the videotape of the conference.

Emma chose this photograph, taken last week while in Cape Cod, until we can pull some photos from the videotape of the conference.

Tomorrow’s Presentation

Emma and I are giving an hour-long presentation tomorrow at the ICare4Autism Conference.  We have been discussing our presentation and while I would be most comfortable writing everything out and basically reading from index cards, Emma has proposed that we do a much looser, more fluid type of presentation, one where I introduce us and then she will type some thoughts about the topic she chose, My Body Does not Obey My Mind, I will respond, she will type something else and on it goes, ending with questions from the audience.

Emma wrote, “How about making this presentation more meaningful by having me talk and then writing an answer to a question and showing them what we mean when we use the words “body/mind disconnect”?

I asked her if she was okay if I brought up the topic of stimming too.  Emma wrote, “Maybe we start with something less controversial like nice questions about the weather.”

I said, “You mean I ask you a question about the weather and then wait for you to give a spoken answer? And then after you’ve said something, you will type an answer to show the difference in real-time?”

Emma replied, “You ask me a simple question like – How do you like the weather today? – because talkers like that sort of thing.”

So to practice, I said to her, “What do you think of the weather today?”  Emma said, “Pool!”

“So that’s a good example, right?” I asked.

Emma then typed, “Beautiful blue skies with whispering air that rustling leaves answer.”

I said, “That is such a perfect example of what you’ve been talking about.  What else?”

“Vanity will be put aside so that others may learn,” Emma wrote.

When I suggested I write what I would say in response, Emma wrote, “How about you talk about how my talking voice confused you and made you think what I said was my intention?”

I told Emma this way of presenting is nerve-wracking for me, but that I think it will make for a far more compelling and powerful presentation.  She then typed, “You can lean on me.”  I told her I will be practicing mindfulness and breathing to relax.  Emma wrote, “Good work, Mommy.  I will be right next to you lending support.”

I’m counting on it, Emma.  I’m counting on it.

Emma and Me

Emma and Me

A Few Thoughts From Emma

“Today I will talk about the weather,”  Emma wrote.  Then she smiled and wrote, “That’s a joke.”

*Quick aside from Ariane.  Emma has referred to those who are well versed in cocktail party conversation as “weather talkers”.

“You’re funny,” Ariane said.

“Lean trains of thought provide rich moments of quiet peace.  Purposeful silence holds meaningful interconnection between like-minded souls.  Caring beings care in the silence as much or more as with words.   Now for a moment of silence.”

The view from the deck where we are staying

The view from the deck where we are staying

Today’s Post Brought to You By Emma

Written by Emma Zurcher-Long

“Today I will tell a short story about a girl who wanted to speak to the wind.  She listened with ears attuned to wind’s song, and desired to speak with its power and beauty.  But the wind was not used to listening, and the sounds she made were ignored.  People heard her and told her to be less noisy.  The wind was loud, yet no one attempted to quiet it.  The girl understood the wind’s voice and eventually it heard her.  Neither one spoke with words.

“The End”

Emma Chose this image from a google search "Girl in the wind"

Emma chose this image from a google search “Girl in the wind”

“A Mind Like a Magician’s Hat”

This morning I asked Emma what she wanted to work on.  She wrote, “We could write a blog post.”

“Okay, what do you want to write about?”  I asked.

“I could make up a story about an Autistic girl who means well, but is not believed smart,” Emma wrote.

“Okay.  Good idea,” I said.

Emma wrote, “She has a mind like a magician’s hat.  Mysterious things are inside.   When revealed, people gasp in astonishment.  Tied to the words regular people can hear are lots of other things they miss.”

“Like what?” I asked.

“All sorts of pleasing sounds, colors and tastes that are healing, but only a special few can experience this.  As loud minds drown out hers, she must work harder than most to be heard.  The End.”

This is the image Emma chose to accompany her story

This is the image Emma chose to accompany her story

Homeschooling, Unschooling…

We are homeschooling, or unschooling or…  I actually don’t know how these terms are defined and haven’t had time to do the research necessary to speak about any of this with any authority, let alone knowledge.  In fact “time” and what that means has kind of blown up in our faces as there never seems to be enough of it.  Richard and I are scrambling to make this work, while making jokes about how many clones we would need to do so, if cloning were an actual thing.  All of this is very new and we have not fallen into a routine yet.  I guess the best description of what we are doing at the moment is – winging it.  We are winging it, though this will change as time goes on, we think.  We hope.  We expect.  What I can say is that Richard asked Emma what part of history she was interested in learning and she chose ancient Egypt and ancient Rome.  This then led to several lessons on the Druids.  Who knows where all of this will lead next!

Meanwhile, Emma and I have embarked on the exciting adventure known as the German language, as per Emma’s request.  We had a particularly hilarious conversation a few weeks ago when Emma first brought up her interest in learning German.  I was somewhat incredulous and kept saying things like “Really?”  and “Are you sure you want to learn German?”  and “What about Spanish or French?”  But no, Emma was not to be swayed, so German it is.  And guess what?  It is SO much FUN!!  We are using a couple of different programs, one is Duolingo, which was recommended by a couple of people.  It’s a free online language program.  Did you know all nouns in German are capitalized?  Why?  Who knows, lots of theories, but there is no one answer as to why, that everyone agrees with.

In addition Emma is working on several writing projects.  One is a chapter idea, in which we will write alternating chapters.  Emma wrote, “How about starting on what you presumed parenting would be before I was born.”  I said, “Can you ask me questions, things you want to know?”  Emma wrote, “Very happy to ask.”  I said, “And what will your chapter be about?”  Emma wrote, “What I presumed the world would be like when I was a baby.”  I cannot wait to hear what she has to say about that!

We continue to make our way through Malala’s autobiography, I am Malala about the Pakistani girl who fought for her right to have the same education as boys and was shot by the Taliban.  This has led to some terrific discussions about advocating for one’s rights, oppression, prejudice, violence, silencing, education, and the lack of.  Recently Emma wrote, “Her life is unlike mine.”  (Referring to Malala.)  “But the oppression is similar to what I have experienced.”

While I continue to go through periods of abject terror at the thought of what we have undertaken, these moments are tempered with the excitement and joy I feel knowing that pulling Emma from school was by far the best thing for her.  She is ecstatic and the marked change in her anxiety and stress levels makes all of us very, very happy.

Emma chose this image for today's post.

Emma chose this image for today’s post.

Homeschooling

We have sent in our “Letter of Intent” to home school.  Yup.  We have made the leap.  We are going to do this.  We will need to send in quarterly reports.  We will need to send in detailed descriptions of our curriculum.  We have begun a file.  Correction.  We have begun several files.  One of the files has the copy of our “letter of intent”.  The others will soon be filled with “history,” “social studies,” “science,” “math,” “english,” “creative writing,” “philosophy,” “geography,” to name just a few, and “German”.   You read that right.  German.  This is the language Emma asked to learn. “Language,” Emma wrote.    “You mean you want to learn a different language?” I asked.

“Yes,” she wrote back.  “How about German?”

“Seriously?” I asked.

“Yes,” she replied.

We will also be doing theatre and acting.  Emma suggested writing a musical, as well as studying art, art history, artists and doing art projects incorporating painting, collage, photography, origami, fabric, found objects and anything else Emma might show interest in doing and learning about.  Taking a page from one of my favorite artists, Robert Rauschenberg, who once wrote that he wanted to work, “in the gap between art and life” so will we!

All of this has happened quite suddenly.  I have gone from gut churning terror and overwhelm to something calmer and more peaceful.  Somehow writing and sending that letter of intent made it seem concrete…  and now, now I feel tremendous relief.  Just tremendous relief.  I know we will figure this out as we go.  I know it will be tough at times, but in the end, I no longer need to worry that she will be challenged academically.

During a recent typing session I asked Emma if she had anything more to add regarding homeschooling.  She wrote that she was excited to be home schooled and then wrote, “… what cabaret kind of life awaits me I can only guess.”

When I showed this to her just now and asked if there was anything else she wanted to add, she wrote, “I paint words on to the canvas that I think of as my life.”

This is the photograph she chose to accompany this post.

July, 2010

July, 2010

 

Silencing

“Having a voice after years of being ignored saves me from treacherous loss.  Years of nothing, makes the smart ideas percolate.  It is a strong force within, waiting for encouragement.”  ~  Emma

There are people who would like to silence my daughter and those like her.   One person recently accused me of “exploiting” my daughter to “satisfy your own vanity and craving for attention” by publishing things Emma’s said she wants others to read.  This particular person went on to write (as though to Emma), “Autistic people are irrelevant in your mother’s world.  And parenting is more of a competitive sport to her than a domestic responsibility.  That is truly disgusting.”   And yet if I do not publish the things my daughter writes and says she wants others to read and understand, then I become the silencer.  I cannot presume her competent, but then selectively do so, by not publishing what she has asked to have published.

As with my older child, we have discussed, and continue to discuss at length the internet, the importance of realizing what one says on the internet, stays on the internet.  We have discussed issues around human rights and advocacy.  We are currently engaged in an ongoing discussion related specifically to blog writing because of the book we are reading, I am Malala in which Malala writes about being increasingly threatened and silenced by the Taliban and how her right to an education was taken from her simply because she was born female.

There are those who say that the words someone like my daughter writes are not really hers.  This is a different way of silencing, but it is as equally brutal and effective.  They say that because science has not shown RPM to be an easily replicated method it is therefore suspect.  They say, parents like me are so determined to believe in their child’s intelligence and competence, we will go to any lengths to “believe” even when it’s clear (to them) our children cannot possibly be the competent beings we know they are.  This is the opposite of presuming competence.  They go on to suggest that though (in the case of RPM, where there is no physical contact of any kind) no one touches my daughter, those nearby are able to influence, so much so that they can actually force the person to point to letters, which spell out things they do not mean to write.

People like my daughter are in a perpetual state of limbo, a kind of no man’s land, neither here nor there.  For those of us speaking out, writing about all of this, giving our children a platform from which to write, we are easy targets.  There will always be people who disagree. There will always be people who are threatened by ideas that confront what they believe and have been told.  There will always be people who viciously attack for reasons that may or may not be apparent to those they strike out at.  I’ve been fortunate and have not had many who have attacked.  In fact this recent commenter is the only one who has come after me, repeatedly, with such viciousness and undisguised hatred.

But I will not be silenced, nor will I allow my daughter to be; as long as she wants to be heard, I will do all I can to make sure she is.

*Emma chose this photograph to go along with her and my words.  Yes, I read this to her, before publishing.  And sadly, it seems, I must also state the obvious,  I do not and will not publish anything ever, that she does not want me to publish.  This blog will disappear the instant Emma tells me she wants it taken down.

Emma Riding Beau

Emma Riding Beau

 

Beauty

I see you spinning, spinning, spinning.  Your white t-shirt caught my eye.  Moving back and forth so many buildings away, through floor to ceiling windows, I might not have seen, I might not have noticed… but your white t-shirt, so very white, and then, and then I noticed your long limbs, moving in different directions from your body…

In my home, music is playing.  This morning it is John Lennon’s lullaby to his son, Sean.

“Beautiful,
Beautiful, beautiful,
Beautiful Boy…”

And I wonder has someone told you how beautiful you are?  Will you grow up knowing you are beautiful?  Are you being nurtured with those words?  Are you valued?  Is your spinning, spinning, spinning seen as an expression of your beauty?  Are you being reassured that no matter what, you are beautiful?

“Close your eyes,
Have no fear,
The monsters gone,
He’s on the run and your daddy’s here…”

Spinning, spinning, spinning… I glance up and you’re gone. Where have you gone?  The white t-shirt has receded.  The spinning has stopped.  But the lyrics continue…

“Before you cross the street,
Take my hand,
Life is just what happens to you,
While you’re busy making other plans…”

When you are grown, will you internalize what others have told you?  Will the lyrics of your life be one of beauty or something else?  Will you be able to see the beauty of all that is you?

“Beautiful,
Beautiful, beautiful,
Beautiful Boy…”

Spinning boy

Spinning boy

Body/Mind Disconnect & Soma

Many people are baffled when they meet Emma and hear her speak.  Their confusion increases when they read things she has written, like ‘this‘, ‘this‘ and ‘this‘.  How is this possible?  How is it that someone like my daughter can speak, but not accurately answer the question, “how old are you?”  Yet, hand her a laminated number board and she has no problem pointing to the number one, followed by the number two.  Give Emma a laptop computer and she will be able to type in the password, as well as type the name of an artist to find her favorite youtube videos, but ask her what she thinks about the Emily Dickinson poem #656 that begins with “I started Early – Took my Dog – And visited the Sea” and she will say nothing in response.  Yet, when I hold her qwerty keyboard that’s connected to her iPad, she immediately wrote, “You taste the ocean, but feel man’s pursuit.”

Emma wrote, “I can tell my totally impish body – Can you please sit still – and then it will do something different.”  Is this similar to the thoughts and ideas that she is able to write, but cannot speak?

In Soma Mukhopadhyay‘s newest book, Developing Motor Skills for Autism using Rapid Prompting Method she writes, “Autism is not just difficulty in verbal interaction; it is also difficulty in tactile as well as kinesthetic interaction…”  “Because of that, an Autistic person may not be able to adapt to new clothes, eat new food, or learn new movements, even though he may have perfect understanding about them.”  My copy arrived the day before Emma and I got on the airplane to come back out to Texas for another of Soma’s four-day camps.  I’ve been reading it whenever I have time, and highly recommend it.

One of the things Emma loves doing while out here is to have a skill building session with the lovely Rebecca Cooper every day after her last session with Soma.  Rebecca uses the techniques Soma describes in her new book.  So, for example, yesterday Rebecca showed Emma how to draw with a colored pencil several boxes, one dark, one light, demonstrating the difference in pressure to obtain such variations and then went on to discuss how light causes shadows.  They then drew a picture of a tree with the sun shining to its left, casting a shadow on the ground and along the right side of the tree’s trunk and branches.

As Soma writes, “The idea of writing this book came from a necessity.  Working with my own son Tito, I realized how his mind and body were disconnected.  As a parent I had two choices – support his physical needs throughout his life or try to do something about it so that his hands that flapped to stimulate kinesthetically also knew how to soap himself in the shower, clean himself, make his bed, fold his own sheets, and assist his thoughts to handwrite independently.”

Rebecca and Emma Discuss Lighting and Shadows

Rebecca and Emma Doing Skill building Exercises

 

 

“Let’s Talk About Communication Abilities”

*As always Emma gave me permission to post this.  Emma typed her words by independently pointing to the letters on a bluetooth qwerty keyboard attached to her iPad.

This morning I asked Emma what she wanted to talk about.  She wrote, “How about we talk about communication abilities.”

A:  “Okay, that’s a great idea!”

E:  “Especially for someone like me.”

A:  “Yes, tell me more.”

E:  I am able to communicate really well with words, but people don’t expect me to, so when they see me typing, they eagerly watch, but they don’t listen to what I write as much as they listen to the words tumbling from my mouth.”

A:  “I think that’s such an amazing observation!”

E:  “Know that believing in someone’s ability will be greeted with inward smiles, so you must never give the doubts breathing space.”

We talked about “ability” and the power of believing in both oneself and another versus doubting.

E:  “Many insist on finding proof, but when sitting with someone like me they only see the things I do that confirm what they already believe and turn their backs on all that would prove them wrong.”

A:  “Is there anything or anyone specific you’re referring to?”

E: “It is what I have experienced, sadly.”

I told Emma how sorry I was.  We talked about this more and then I said, “I think your words really do affect many people who are listening and as a result are changing how they see their child.  Even if only a few people listen, it’s worth repeating, don’t you think?

E:  “Some that change their views, teach others well.”

A:  Yes, I think so too.  Many people have reached out to us on Facebook and on the blog to tell us.  It’s always so wonderful when we hear from them.

E:  “Now we must remain patient and doggedly trudge ahead.”

I told Emma, she was leading the way and I would always follow.

E:  “Together we will eagerly tether our ideas, so having happy thoughts will woo anger.”

Ariane and Em ~ May 2014

Ariane and Emma ~ May 2014

Transformations

I began this blog in April, 2010 as a document of what I thought would surely be our finding a cure for my daughter’s autistic neurology.  At the time I did not question that this was a worthy goal and one I should be pursuing.  At the time, all I could see were the things challenging her, making her life more difficult with no upside.  She was, I thought, the victim of a neurology that caused her nothing but pain and suffering.  It was not until I was confronted with the joys, things that I had witnessed right from the beginning of her life, but, after receiving her diagnosis then ignored and dismissed, that I began to appreciate the more complex truth about autism and what that might mean to her.  I could not have imagined that four years later my daughter would be posting her profound insights about life, her neurology and the impact society has on her, not because we found a cure, but because we didn’t.

For those of you who have read this blog from the beginning, or poked around and read a post or two from those early days or those who’ve looked through the archives of the pieces published on Huffington Post, you will see a transformation.  It is not a transformation of my daughter’s neurology as was once my goal, but a transformation of our thinking, and as a result the impact our thinking has had, not just on her self-esteem, but on our ideas about ourselves, individually and as a family.  We had to examine and question our own neurology and the challenges we face as a result, before we were able to fully appreciate hers.

We do not take credit for who she is becoming.  We cannot.  My daughter is strong, stronger and wiser than I have any right to claim influence on.  While it has certainly helped that we no longer fight against her neurology, but instead encourage, support and provide her with the help she needs to flourish, it would be wrong to suggest who she is and is becoming is all due to us.  Had we not found people who believed completely in her, people who saw beneath the words she spoke, the way her body moved, had they not shown us and encouraged us to question our beliefs and set them aside, to look beyond what we thought we were seeing and what that meant, we would still be lost in the horror of what we once thought and were told “autism” meant.

This concept, that of helping an Autistic child flourish to be all they autistically can be, is counter to all that we non autistics are told and urged to believe.  So much of the focus is on making our Autistic children behave and appear less autistic-like.  Appearing non autistic is the emphasis and the fact that this comes at a price, is not often spoken of or even considered among the non autistic population.  Many people see Autistic people, witness their inability to say what they feel and think, and believe there is nothing more to see.  They come to conclusions, having witnessed the person’s movement, their facial expressions or lack of, and believe what they see and what they then conclude is the “truth”.  Assumptions can create all kinds of misunderstandings that hurt a population who do not follow the unspoken rules of a majority.

(Trigger for abuse contained in links)  Misunderstandings that then lead to abuse.  Beliefs, like this and this are expressed and taken by many as fact, regardless of how misinformed, regardless of how shoddy the reporting, which further harm people and children, like my daughter.  The cure I seek now is for our society.  A cure for intolerance, sameness at any cost, and for those who seek to silence those who cannot speak with spoken language, but who have a great deal to say through the words they write, is what I dream of.

One of the many down sides of non autistic neurology is how we struggle mightily to blend in, to fit in at all and any cost.   We strive to be better than, to keep up appearances, to cover our awful feelings of insecurity and discomfort with pretense and by controlling those around us.  Some become obsessed with money and power and yet once they have both, they use it to further separate themselves.  Where and what is the cure for that?

This is the journey I now find myself on.  There are others farther ahead, I am doing my best to follow.  There are many who learned all of this sooner than I did.  There are some who will read this and because they have been on this road longer, will see how far I still have to go, but this is a trek, the best sort of trek, filled with discovery and beauty.  Emma is leading the way now.  I really am just trying my best to keep up, while remaining open to all that I still do not know, but am eager to learn.

 

And Then Suddenly Life Changes

Life has, quite suddenly, taken a dramatic turn.  Over the weekend I finally came to the decision that I cannot keep my business AND finish this book I’m writing AND work with Emma AND have the time to study this method of helping her, so that I can help others help her.  This feels like a good decision, the right decision, one I’ve been struggling with since last fall, but finally feel ready to take the actions to make this happen. So this morning as I looked around my studio, wondering how I was going to sort through everything and begin the process of dismantling a business and a working studio, I received a call from Emma’s school.  They are putting on a show next week and there have been some issues that required my presence.  As I’ve been going to her school every Tuesday afternoon in an attempt to teach some of the staff how to support her so she can write with them too, I left a little earlier than usual.

After school we met with the principal who asked Emma what she did for mother’s day, Emma wrote, “Mom helped me talk to my brother.”

“Oh!  What did you talk about,” the principal asked.

“We talked about whether Truman should have dropped the bomb on Hiroshima and Nagasaki,” Emma wrote.  Then she stood up and ran across the room, whipping her arms around like windmills before settling back in her chair.

It was decided that Emma needs to be in a classroom where she is being taught the same curriculum as her same age non autistic peers.  Except that she is not yet able to write with anyone at her school the way she can with me, so I volunteered to come in until someone can be trained.  It makes perfect sense.  But as Emma and I left her school yesterday, I thought to myself – what did I just agree to? It was one of those moments when the full weight of what you’ve committed to hits you and you think – am I going to be able to do this?  Really?  Can I do this?

Well, I guess we’ll see.  And for the next ten days I will get an interesting view into how her school does things.  And here’s the other thing…   There is nothing I could do that comes even close to being as important as finding a way for my daughter to communicate in a way that gives her greater access to this “awkward world” as she wrote the other day.  No book I might write, no piece of jewelry I might design, nothing comes close.

My life is suddenly no longer what it was.  I am nervous about going to her school with her and essentially being her one on one aide, but I am also really curious to see how it goes and I’m excited to see her in a class where, I’m hoping, she will be challenged.

Before we left school yesterday, the principal asked Emma whether she preferred being referred to as a young lady with autism or an Autistic young lady, Emma wrote, “I am an Autistic girl and proud of it.”

The principal smiled and asked, “Why do you prefer being called Autistic?”

“Because autism is part of me and can’t be removed,” Emma wrote.

“That makes sense,” her principal said.

I told the principal and assistant principal how fortunate we are that I have a number of friends who are Autistic, one of whom is like a sister to me.  And then Emma wrote, “They are my Autistic family.”

How lucky are we?

The journey continues…

Emma and Me

Emma and Me

Education

Yesterday I wrote a post, Your Child’s Been Diagnosed.  Now What?  There are so many things to add.  But something I wondered often during those early years was  – what good is a diagnosis if the “interventions” the professionals suggest and say will help, do not?  Now this is not everyone’s story, but it is ours.  All the recommended “interventions” did little, if anything, to actually help her.  In fact, I would argue that some of the interventions we agreed to, actually harmed her self-esteem.  And the general rhetoric, disguised as factual information, surrounding autism, encouraged her to feel damaged and at fault for the suffering of others.  No child should feel they are the cause of other’s pain and suffering.  And yet, so many do.

Once we began looking for schools that might be a good fit, we were even more horrified.  The choices were not – which one is best? – but became – which one will not harm her?  This shouldn’t be a parent’s guiding question when looking at schools, but for us, it was.  Will the staff be kind to her?  Will they be patient?  Questions like – will she learn?  Will she be taught science, math, english, social studies?  Those questions quickly gave way to – will she be harmed?  Are cameras monitoring what goes on in the classrooms and hallways?   Do they use isolation rooms?  Do they allow teachers to use restraints?  The best case scenario became less about education and more about physical safety and finding a place that did not harm or try to force compliance.

Academics were stripped down as it was “shown” that she could not understand basic concepts.  Because she could not read aloud, she was given picture books.  Because she could not answer the questions asked, the questions were simplified and simplified more and more and more until it was concluded she didn’t understand.  Because it was determined she could not understand a simple story about a boy and his dog going on a trip to visit his Grandmother, she was given less “complex” stories.  She was given “sight” words that were repeated for months and months, even years.  Billy Goat’s Gruff became the center piece for a curriculum that continued for three years, despite our disbelief and protests.  “Oh but we examine all the various characters in the story,” we were assured.  “THREE YEARS??” we responded.  “For three years?”  “Yes,” we were told with pitying looks and the hubris and bravado I’ve come to recognize from those who are convinced they “know” and understand “autism” and therefore my daughter.

Some of the worst offenders are those who have dedicated their lives to autism.  Those who are so sure they know, and as a result are no longer curious or interested in learning more.  Those are the people who are asked to give presentations at Autism Conferences, they are the ones who write books, that parents, not knowing any better, buy.  They are the ones we listen to and slowly as their voices are the loudest and most plentiful, we begin to doubt our instincts, we begin to soften our protests, we begin, slowly, slowly over time, to believe them.  Our ideas about our child are whittled away.  Our instincts are pushed aside to allow for those who know better, who have been doing this for “twenty years,” who have worked with “this population” and who, from having spent decades among children just like mine, know things I cannot possibly grasp or understand.  (This, by no means, describes everyone, but it does accurately describe a great many, and sadly, often those who were in a position with the most power.)

We parents are told to see our children for what they are: Intellectually impaired, socially inept, incapable, lacking and unable to understand the most basic concepts.  My child, as a result was shuttled off to learn how to tie her shoe laces and wash her face and hands.  While life skills are certainly important they should not take the place of academics.  So many of us are consoled with the idea that at least our child will be able to dress themselves, or not…  in which case we envy those parents who have children who can.  Our focus turns from philosophy, an exchange of ideas, history, english, poetry, literature, science, social studies, math and geography, to making sure our child can brush their teeth.  Until one is accomplished, it is thought, the other cannot be introduced.  A child who cannot dress themselves, surely cannot be introduced to Kant or Socrates or a poem by Yeats.

“Hey Emma, I’m curious, how is it that you know about WWII and Nazi Germany?”

“I hear you, Nic, and Daddy discussing,” Emma wrote over the weekend.

“Do you think it was right for Harry Truman to drop the bomb on Hiroshima?” my son asked.

“I have to learn more to say one way or the other,” Emma responded.

“Do you want to hear some arguments for and against the bombing of Nagasaki and Hiroshima?” N. asked.

“Yes, I can better understand using the bomb if you tell me more,” Emma wrote.

There is so much more to say…

Emma struck this pose while waiting for the school bus - May, 2014

Emma struck this pose while waiting for the school bus – May, 2014

The Value of Words

Awhile ago Emma wrote, “Talking is hard because I like to say silly things that people take seriously and that is why I am misunderstood.”

Yesterday Richard referenced Emma’s “silly things” but without the full quote and I think some may have read his words and thought he was suggesting her spoken words were silly, when he was actually quoting Emma.  But the context is everything and when Emma wrote the above, it was about written language versus spoken. I was reminded of my friend, Leah Kelley who has a blog, Thirty Days of Autism.  About a year ago, Leah posted a video that I thought so hysterical, I had to share it and have since watched it many times.  It’s called Bulbous Bouffant.

I dare anyone to watch this video and not smile.  Me?  I laughed out loud. Did any of you join in, saying the words out loud?  I did.  Was this silly of me?  YES!  I love silly.  Silly is way under rated.  How much more fun would we all have if we could engage in conversations like this one?  Those of you who hate clicking on links, you’re going to have to… go on, just do it.  It’s hilarious.

We live in a world where this sort of conversation is not exactly encouraged.  In fact, most people, if they encountered such a person while waiting for the bus or subway would probably try to politely extricate themselves from such a conversation.  Someone who spoke, as the person in the video does, would be thought odd and would be avoided.  He might even frighten people.

A few months ago, Emma wrote,  I am intelligent and cannot speak with the same brilliant words that are in my mind.”  And I understood completely what she was saying.  We need to show that we are intelligent before we can lapse into the silliness of enjoying the sounds of a word, simply because it’s fun, or admit that a word makes us happy, not because of its meaning, but just because of the way it feels and sounds while saying it.  Intelligence first and then silliness can ensue, but if intelligence isn’t proven, then silliness becomes “inappropriate” or “weird” or any number of other words we use when we think someone is not like us and less than.

Yesterday Emma wrote, “I troubled you when I intended to talk and words told different tales than I thought.”  I have to say it made me sad to read her words because she’s right, it did trouble me, and had I known how bright she was, I would not have been so troubled.  But this is also a problematic statement because it’s focused on perceived intelligence and shows a definite prejudice towards those who are defined as “intelligent” versus those who are not.  That actually goes against everything I believe.   ALL human beings should be treated equally, with respect, love and kindness, no matter what their perceived intelligence is.  And yet, my obvious prejudice is there and so this is something I will look at and be more aware of.  Without awareness, I cannot change.

So when Emma then wrote, “I realize any words are valued more than silence” I understood her to mean her “written words” because those are the words we applaud her for, those are the words we quote and talk about, those are the words we say, “Here!  Read this!”  Partly because they are so insightful and wonderfully wise, but also because they prove, beyond a doubt, how very bright she is.  But also there’s a hierarchy in our culture –  the more spoken language an Autistic child has, the “higher” functioning they are deemed.  Spoken language in our culture is everything.

Except what about all those people who have not found a way to express themselves? What about those who cannot express “profound insights”?  Are they less important?  Are they somehow less human?  Are they not deserving of the same respect and treatment we so easily and readily give to those who speak eloquently and brilliantly?

“I realize any words are valued more than silence.”

Silence

Silence