Tag Archives: non-speaking

A Short Interview With Emma

This is a short interview I did with Emma this morning about speaking, writing, and words.  

Ariane:  Do you have an inner dialogue?  You know, where you have a running conversation in your head?

Emma:  I do not think in words.

Ariane:  So that must make it hard to articulate what you are thinking and feeling.

Emma:  Yes, it is frustrating.  I am often unable to express myself even in writing.

Ariane:  Any suggestions for those of us who think in words?

Emma:  Do not think so much.  Empathy and love are not conveyed with words.

Texas ~ September, 2013

Texas ~ September, 2013

Discrimination

In Emma’s RPM session yesterday with B. on the topic of discrimination, Emma wrote, “Autism voices have been silent.” (Emma initially typed “silenct and then she edited that to “silent”.)   B. encouraged her to write more, asking her what she suggested.  Emma wrote, “take time to try and learn from us instead of staring at us like we are garbage.”

When she wrote the word “garbage” I felt sick to my stomach. This, from my twelve-year-old daughter.

I remember when my father would call me into his home office to scold me for my latest infraction.  I remember the shame I felt.  I still remember the tingling feeling of rebellion mixed with self-doubt when I noticed the disapproving stare of a stranger upon seeing my outfit – a crop top and pair of cut-offs that I’d smuggled into my backpack to wear to go shopping with a friend after school.   There was shame then too.  But stares like I’m garbage?  No.  I don’t know what that’s like and yet, my twelve-year-old daughter does.  Twelve years old.  Evidently she knows this feeling all too well, as there was no hesitation when she wrote that sentence yesterday.  It wasn’t like she had to stop and think about her answer.  She didn’t pause before pointing to the letter “g”.

take time to try and learn from us instead of staring at us like we are garbage.”

B. had been talking about Martin Luther King.  She had spoken of the civil rights movement and quoted a few things Martin Luther King said.  Emma immediately wrote about autism.  No hesitation there.  I can’t really console myself with the idea that racism and discrimination are no longer an issue in the United States and therefore the prejudice Autistic people encounter will change any time soon as well.  The language has been cleaned up, people know not to use certain words, but the feelings, the feelings of bias, the violence that prejudice and oppression encourage continues.

“take time to try and learn from us instead of staring at us like we are garbage.”

Emma ~ 2010

Emma ~ 2010

“Voices”

The Halo Center has published a little pamphlet of Autistic people’s writing. It’s called “Voices” and this year’s issue – “Voices” 2013 edition –  is available for purchase ‘here‘.  One of Emma’s fabulous folk tales is in it, along with dozens of others.  For anyone who is even remotely interested in Soma Mukhopadhyay’s Rapid Prompting Method or RPM, it is a great sample of the writings of a wide range of people of all ages who do not rely on spoken language to communicate, but who write to communicate.

“Butterflies used to be sticky as butter.  But they had curiosity.” ~ Emma

I am not going to reprint Emma’s entire story here as I hope some of you will go over and purchase a copy.

Soma and RPM have completely transformed our lives.  It is my dream that every school, every educator, every therapist, and all people who are in the field of autism have the opportunity to witness someone like my daughter writing her thoughts on the letter board.  Eventually Emma will write on her iPad and computer, but for now she is using a laminated letter board with me, her iPad with the person she sees here and the laminated board, which she even holds herself at times, with Soma.

A Session With Soma

A Session With Soma

“There is Wisdom in the Echo Silence Makes”

“I want to talk about autism, but I am dear-like because badly needed information is angering.

Assuring many people understand about neurology they do not have is difficult.

I want the world to have another opinion to work with.

I am happy but people find that impossible to believe.  That causes me anxiety.

Acceptance and kindness are crucial for all people.  As one who is constantly thought less than, forgiveness is like a soothing bath and the talking people might learn more if they did not talk so much.

There is wisdom in the echo silence makes.”

Emma just wrote this.  She asked that I put it on the blog.

“There is wisdom in the echo silence makes.”

It turns out we are living with the buddha.

Emma ~ 2004

Emma ~ 2004

Emma’s “Folk Tale”

*Emma worked on this story for a week and it took many 45 minute sessions to complete.

“Once upon a time there was a duck and she bought a gorgeous pair of shoes.  She could not force her webbed feet into the lovely shoes, so she fell into a terrible depression.

“Oh what is the matter with me?” she cried.

“Her once beautiful feet now disgusted her.  The new shoes languished in her closet.  Golden hopes for her acting debut were dashed.  Without her new shoes she believed she would not be as highly regarded as she would be while wearing them.  Delightful she once was, but now no longer.

“Dawn arose like a spring crocus and she decided matters could only improve if only her feet were dainty.  Seeking the advice of an aged, old, spotted owl, she wondered if her feet could be changed.

“The ancient bird asked, “Have you always hated your feet this way?”

“No,” she said, “I have always enjoyed my wonderfully webbed feet.”

“Then, ” asked the sage, “why do you dislike them so, now?”

“Because,” she replied, “my new shoes do not fit and they are so pretty.  Could they be changed so I may wear them?”

“Yes.” Owl smiled.

Relieved to be in the company of one so wise, Duck had seen the failure of her ways.  It was not her feet needing amendment, it was her perception.

Duck's Lovely Webbed Feet

Duck’s Lovely Webbed Feet

Today is Emma’s birthday.  She turns 12.  Happy Birthday to my beautiful girl!!

Prejudice & Autism

Emma and I have been discussing the civil rights movement and the events throughout American history that led up to it.  We’ve discussed the word segregation and what it means to a society when we isolate a group of people and how people come to form opinions about other people they’ve never met.

We have discussed the word prejudice  and how it is preconceived opinions based on an idea rather than factual.  We’ve talked about how those preconceived ideas almost always do harm.  We’ve discussed oppression and how many who’ve been oppressed internalize that message and how it changes how they then view themselves.

Emma has asked to read a biography of Harriet Tubman and we have been discussing the importance of Rosa Parks and her decision to not give up her seat on a crowded bus in Montgomery, Alabama.  We have not yet talked about Martin Luther King, Malcolm X or Thurgood Marshall, though Emma wrote that she has heard of the first two, and for all I know, may know of all three.

When I asked Emma to write something about Harriet Tubman, she wrote, “defender of freedom.”  This was a couple of months ago and I was shocked because the only time I’d mentioned Harriet Tubman to Emma was about three years ago.  I had read one of those beginning readers to Emma about Harriet Tubman before bedtime. And while I always hoped she might be listening, even if only a little, I wasn’t convinced she understood what I was reading.  This was during those years before I realized Emma understood everything.  It was during those years when I believed what I was being told, that my daughter was only able to understand the most basic concepts, and even those, it was often questioned just how much she understood.

Prejudice is when we form opinions about people, that are not based in fact. Prejudice makes us blind, it twists our minds into thinking we understand or know, even when we do not.  It can make us deny facts, or decide that what is true, is not real.

As Emma never indicated that she was listening, much less taking everything in, I often wondered.  But a couple of people had encouraged me to “act as if” and so I did my best.  I remember when I read the biography of Helen Keller and later she asked me to read it to her again.  Still, despite the now obvious evidence, I doubted and even when I wasn’t actively doubting, I wondered.  Often.  It was as though I could not make the mental leap to believe what increasingly seems obvious in retrospect.  Prejudice is like that, it fools us into believing we understand things about a group of people that we do not.

As James H. Cone writes in his book Black Theology & Black Power – “How should I respond to a world which defines me as a nonperson?”  And later in the same book, he writes, “A man is free when he can determine the style of his existence in an absurd world; a man is free when he sees himself for what he is and not as others define him.”

Emma in Colorado - 2010

Emma in Colorado – 2010

Unable to Speak Does Not Mean Unable to Think

*Emma gave me her permission to write about this.

“How old is she?” a stranger asked the other day as Richard, Emma and I searched the grocery store shelves for Emma’s favorite jam.  Emma was bounding back and forth between where Richard and I were standing peering at the shelf where her jam is usually located, to the dairy case, twirling her string and saying things like, “but where is it?  I don’t know!  It’s gone!  Somebody took it.  You threw it! Aw sweetheart…”

The strange man then observed, “She’s acting like a young child.”

My first reaction was to move Emma away from this person so she wouldn’t hear any more of his words.  My second reaction was to go over to the man and say, “You know, my daughter understands everything you’re saying.”

“I wasn’t trying to be rude,” came the stranger’s reply.

“Yes, but in fact you were,” was my knee-jerk response before walking away.  *I’m not proud of this and I know this was an opportunity for a “teaching moment” but I didn’t have it in me.*

Later, Emma and I talked about what happened.  Emma told me it hurts her feelings when people do this – talk about her and say things about her as though she couldn’t hear them, or doesn’t understand everything they’re saying.

I want to disappear when people talk about me.“  Emma wrote to Soma last September.  I wrote about that session in more detail ‘here.’

People, usually, do not mean to be rude, they do not mean to say hurtful things about my daughter in front of her, in fact people do not think about what they’re saying a great deal of the time.  As my daughter does not protest or respond when they talk about her in front of her, people assume she doesn’t want to or cannot understand.  It doesn’t occur to them that she doesn’t respond because the words she’d like to say do not come out of her mouth in the way she intends.  Until Emma was able to write her thoughts, people (including us) believed what they thought they were seeing, even though what they thought they were seeing was completely incorrect.  In cases like my daughter – seeing is NOT believing.

When people do not speak, they are often viewed as not being able to comprehend things said.  People come to the conclusion that if you cannot say what you mean, you must not want to, or you are unable to understand what others are saying.  There’s a false logic at work here.  Particularly when it comes to Autistic people.  When someone is unable to speak, cannot say what is in their mind, is unable to voice their ideas, thoughts and opinions, it does not then follow that they do not have ideas, thoughts and opinions that they would like to express.

Emma ~ 2003

Emma ~ 2003

Autism and Human Rights

Peyton Goddard gave the keynote address at the 2013 TASH Conference in Chicago on December 11th, 2013.

You can watch, hear and read a transcript of her speech ‘here‘.  Peyton does not speak, but instead types to communicate.  I was fortunate enough to be in attendance at the TASH Conference and hear her speech.

“Understated and devalued, I was segregated and secluded, walled-in for controlling decades, and repeatedly traumatized by bullying abusers.”

Peyton describes her existence prior to learning how to communicate through typing.

“I’m less. I’m freak. I’m throwaway trash. Daily, for decades, I try but cannot be the person you want me to be.”

“Your answer was to fix me, to change me to be what you feared not. To cure me of being ME. I reply that YOU were less than I needed.”

Read that again – “I reply that YOU were less than I needed.”

“Segregation is the beast whose bite cheats us all. The isolation of people different renders you and me strangers. Reality is that you are me and I am you.”

At the crux of any prejudice is the idea that “I” am different, separate and, ultimately “superior”.  To live with this delusion, we must keep ourselves apart from those we believe “inferior”.  If we live together, in a world that embraces all humans, we lose our superior/inferior status.  This is the world I strive and hope for.  This is the world I want my children to inhabit.

*For more of Peyton’s wisdom, read her book, I am intelligent.  I interviewed Peyton and Dianne for the Huffington Post.  You can read that interview ‘here‘.

Peyton and Dianne Goddard ~ TASH 2013

Peyton and Dianne Goddard ~ TASH 2013

Emma’s Letter to Her Teachers

This is a letter Emma wrote yesterday to her teachers.

Dear ____________________,

I would like to teach you how to use a stencil board so that I can show you how much I know and so we can discuss what you are teaching me in class.

I want to learn both syntax and style of diverse writers.  Poetry and prose both interest me.  I love to write stories and welcome the opportunity to do so.

You try to teach me, but not in a way that I can learn.  Try to learn what my mother has learned from Soma and change how you think about autism.

Addition and subtraction are fun, but I have been doing that for many years and numbers are easy for me to understand.  It is boring to do the same thing over and over all the time.

I do not like school and I wish I could go to a regular school where I was treated like other kids.

Sincerely,

Emma

After Emma wrote this letter I sat with my husband Richard, clutching the three pages it took to contain these words that Emma wrote, pointing to one letter at a time on her laminated letter board.  I asked Emma if I had her permission to read her words aloud to her dad, she nodded yes and then said out loud, “on the blog.”

Education for our kids, whatever their neurology, is something every parent worries about.  Our schools are buckling under the weight of mismanagement, bureaucracy, out dated and irrelevant standardized test requirements, politics, and the diverse needs of our children, make any one-size-fits-all method of teaching impossible.

I don’t have any answers, but I intend to get some.

To anyone who has successfully gotten their non-speaking child (or a child like Emma who is able to speak, but says things they do not intend) into a “regular” school, please contact me and let me know how you did it.  Does your child have a one-on-one aide?  Did you train the aide yourself?  Do you do RPM?  Did the school work with you?  If they didn’t, what did you do instead?  Any and all experiences are welcome.  You can also contact me by email:  emmashopeblog@gmail.com.

A Session With Soma

A Session With Soma

How We Got Here

I was asked recently to talk about the process that led to my daughter being able to write the insightful posts she’s been writing of late.  And while I initially thought I HAD written about all of this and so much more throughout this blog, upon further reflection I realized I have not written about the process in a condensed form, so will attempt to do so now.  (Wish me luck.)  For those of you who are interested in a more detailed, chronological version of what we’ve been doing that has led to Emma writing posts like ‘this‘, ‘this‘, ‘this‘, ‘this‘, ‘this‘, ‘this‘, ‘this‘, ‘this‘, ‘this’ and ‘this‘ for this blog (and to see the daily progress) you can enter terms such as, RPM, Halo, Soma, communication and non-speaking in the “search” box or just begin reading the posts starting in mid-September until now.   For those of you who are REALLY curious, you can go back to October, 2012 when I went to the Autcom Conference.

There’s no way to say that on such and such date everything changed.  Like so much in life it was the incremental, seemingly, not-so-important things that occurred one after the other that then allowed for the next thing and the next until there was that moment we remembered and now look back upon and say, “oh yes, that was when everything shifted.”  Our version of having a – Helen Keller moment –  the day when W-A-T-E-R suddenly made sense, didn’t happen.  At least not like that.  There wasn’t any ONE moment when it all changed, but more a series of moments one after the other that led to a number of “OH!” moments.

One of those “OH!” moments was when Emma went to see Soma Mukhopadhyay (I wrote about that session ‘here‘) and we sat with tears streaming down our cheeks because Emma knew how to spell October and that it was a month in Autumn.  Another moment, previous to that, was when Emma was working with Pascal (documented ‘here‘) over a year ago.  Pascal “asked Em what she would do if she went into her own bedroom and found baby bear in her bed, Em typed, “I would be scared and I would watch his mother.”

I read that sentence several times.  How can I describe the feelings that came with reading it?  How can I express the surge of hope I felt?  How can I possibly describe the feeling of euphoria?  This sentence, this idea was beyond what I have come to expect.  It suggested a whole other level of thinking, a thought process far beyond anything she has been able to express before.”

In retrospect it seems incredible that all of this came as such a shock to us, but it did.  As I’ve said before, we knew nothing.  Literally.  Nothing.  But we thought we knew a great deal.  We knew what we’d been told up until that point and then it seemed as though over night, we realized everything we thought we knew was wrong.  So it was little moments just like these, over and over and over again, that continued to happen leading up to the first time I took Emma to see Soma in Texas (described in more detail ‘here‘, ‘here‘, ‘here‘ and ‘here‘) last September and then returning home and not being able to replicate what Soma was doing. But I was so determined and had to fight how depressed I felt because Emma seemed unable to write words that I’d just seen her write with Soma and yet with me, nothing.  Nothing at all.  There was self-doubt and fear, just tremendous fear that I wouldn’t be able to learn how to do this.  Fear that I would never be able to communicate with my daughter in the way I witnessed her communicating with others like Soma and Rosie and Pascal and Harvey and Leah.

So I had to begin at the beginning with simple choices and felt so impatient and so worried that this was how it was going to be for the rest of our lives.  But I kept showing up each day and making us do our “study room” together setting a timer for ten minutes and then 15 and then 20 and eventually up to 45 minutes and making lesson plans and wondering, wondering, always wondering whether she would be able to get to the point where she could trust me and write with me as I saw her writing with Soma.

I found a woman in NYC whom Soma had trained and we began taking Emma to see her too and I studied the videos of Soma working with Emma and I made notes and spent hours and hours pouring over them and making lesson plans and practicing.  I wrote out scripts of exactly what I would say during our “study room” session, leaving nothing to chance and I kept at it. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, but actually it was more like six weeks, I arranged to have a Skype call with Soma, having sent her a video of me working with Emma.  Soma advised me to ask her one open ended question at the end of each lesson, which I hadn’t dared do as the one session I had, it was a disaster and she wouldn’t answer me.  I said as much to Soma.  I told her I didn’t think we were ready for that and Soma said, oh yes, but she’s ready.  You must ask something simple at the end of each lesson. So I did.  I did because Soma was so matter-of-fact and sure that this was what needed to happen next.

Emma began answering these open ended questions, at first with a few words and then with longer, more complex sentences.  I began to ask clarifying questions and now…  now look at her go!  It makes me cry thinking about this actually.  I couldn’t have known it would all happen as quickly as it did.  At the time, the process seemed to take forever, but looking back one’s perspective is different and I see it as very fast and I’m just so grateful for all that work, for all those days I struggled and cried to my husband and didn’t believe it would ever be any other way…

By the way, I DO think those Helen Keller moments that Hollywood then immortalizes, has all of us very impatient and thinking life is like that. Of course you and I know, life isn’t so simple or easy, nothing ever is. There’s work, hard, hard work and hours upon hours of showing up over and over again, and then slowly change occurs and it seems incredible, even miraculous!  But no one sees all that work, all those days when things didn’t go well, all those days when tempers flared, when there were tears and frustration and doubt and even disbelief that it would ever be different… until it is.

To all of you reading this – this has been my experience, as a parent, as someone who has always been terribly impatient, but determined.  Emma’s experience has been different (I’m hoping she’ll want to write about that at some point.) Everyone’s experience will differ, but perhaps, just perhaps, my experience will be useful to those of you just beginning, or will bring a smile of recognition to those of you ahead of me, either way, none of us need do this alone.  I didn’t and I am so grateful to all of you who have helped me help my daughter get to where she is now.

Em & Ariane on New Year's Eve ~ 2013

Em & Ariane on New Year’s Eve ~ 2013

Emma Recommends…

Someone asked Emma what she’d recommend they say in answer to the question, “how high functioning is your child?”

Emma wrote, “I recommend being patient with them and saying that functioning labels will almost always give the wrong idea to those who are trying to understand.”

I have thought about Emma’s response a great deal since she wrote it and asked her if it would be okay to write a bit more about this, specifically in relation to some of the issues Emma confronts on a daily basis.   Emma gave me permission.

“Red car, red truck, red car, red car, red car, red truck, red backpack, red car, red car, red car, red car, red truck, red van, red car…”  Emma said as we drove to the airport yesterday.

It is inaccurate to say Emma does not speak.  She does speak and her words are accurate in that we did pass all of those things in exactly the order she listed.  In fact, a few times when I protested because I did not see a red car pass us, after Emma said, “red car,” Emma will correct me and point to a parking lot father away that I had not noticed, where there was a red car.   If there is one thing I have come to understand, it is that my daughter is never wrong about such things.  If she says, “red sweater” it is not a fantasy, it is because she just saw someone wearing a red sweater, even if I didn’t see them or notice.

Emma has never lined up toys, but she lines up words.  To those of us new to all of this, it can seem strange, even bizarre, but it is her way of taking care of herself and is calming to her, please read more about Emma’s thoughts on self-care ‘here‘.  However to people who do not know Emma, they listen to her, try to engage her in conversation and then make assumptions about her intelligence based upon the list of words she utters.  If they try to engage in a conversation about the red car we just passed, Emma will typically ignore them and continue with her list.

When it comes to “functioning” labels, people who try to have a conversation with Emma will, typically, come to the conclusion she is “moderately” or “severely” autistic.  People take this to mean she is “low” functioning.  But if someone reads a post, like this ‘one’ that Emma wrote, pointing to one letter at a time on her stencil board, they may assume she is “high functioning” or they may come to some other conclusion, but they will not assume she is “severe”.

Until we were able to help Emma tell us what she was thinking, we had no idea what she was capable of.  A little over a year ago her school sent home “reading comprehension” work.  Emma was unable to do any of it.  At the time we tried a number of different things, but still Emma was unable to answer the questions as they were written and it was assumed she did not understand the simple story given to her.  We had no idea how completely wrong we were in our assumptions.  It was the same with the ongoing insistence that she read out loud and that when she could not, this also then meant that she was unable to read silently or at all.

The same thing happened with simple addition and subtraction.  It was assumed Emma could not do the math sheets being given, meanwhile she not only knew addition and subtraction, but knew multiplication and division, despite having never been formally taught either one.  These assumptions were repeated when it came to telling time and the concept of money or what a penny, nickel, dime or quarter were worth.  At her IEP meetings it was assumed these “concepts” were too abstract and difficult for her to comprehend.  None of us had any idea just how wrong we were.

I wrote about some of this ‘here‘ and ‘here‘.  Now, just over a year later I re-read those older posts and am so grateful we know better.  Knowing better has changed everything, but had someone told me just over a year ago that Emma would be writing the insightful, wise and incredibly philosophical posts for this blog that she has been recently, I would have been incredulous.  As I’ve said before, this is much more an example of my neurological limitations than it is of anything else.

“I recommend being patient with them and saying that functioning labels will almost always give the wrong idea to those who are trying to understand.”

Thank you Emma for being patient with us!

"Red Dress"

“Red Dress”

Emma Discusses Functioning Labels

I asked Emma what she thought of the functioning labels applied to Autistic people: mild, moderate, severe, or high functioning and low functioning.  What follows is her response.

“Functioning labels are insulting to me.  And people like me do not like to have others label us as though we were meat at the market.

“I do not think Autistics should be given stamps of disapproval.   How would you like to be graded all the time?

“Money makes people (*not autistic) have a higher functioning label, but it is not a great way to measure the worth of a person or their intellect.

“I am more than any one thing.

“Most people do not behave well under the kind of pressure Autistic people must endure all the time.  A label belongs on a piece of merchandise, not on a human being.

“Do you think you function at a higher level than other people?

“Maybe others would not agree with you.

“Let us all  do the best that we can and stop othering everyone we decide is less capable.”

*I asked Emma whether she meant all people or a particular group of people, she wrote “not autistic”.

Snowy Denver where we are currently snowed in and cannot leave...

Snowy Denver where we are currently snowed in and cannot leave…

A Letter To You ~ By Emma

I asked Emma whether she wanted to finish the story she began about an otter or talk about something else.  She wrote:

“I want to talk about the New Year.

“This is a meaningful year because I am beginning to write about my ideas about autism and how people need an education in applying what Autistic people feel.

“Fear is non-living.  It cripples the mind and deadens the soul.  Raging beasts of pain masquerading as stims cause many to misunderstand.

“I am not without thought.  My forever beautiful mind needs nourishment all the time.  Autistic people are left to linger in a secluded world by those who could be helping instead of harming them.

“Please care enough to alter how you interact with those who may seem different than you, but who are actually the same.  We are all beings with similar feelings and hopes.

“Do not believe your fears.  They will lead you the wrong way.”

Emma told me she wanted me to publish this on the blog today.  Emma turns twelve this month.  I have spent more than fifty years learning what she already knows.  Em & Ariane on New Year's Eve ~ 2013    Em & Ariane on New Year’s Eve ~ 2013

 

The Gift of Emma

In the days leading up to Christmas, Ariane excitedly told me that Emma had written, “I want to write a story about Daddy.” Ariane said it was going to be my Christmas present. Obviously, I was incredibly excited as well. But on the following day Ariane came to me after her writing session with Emma and said:

“This story is going to make you cry.”

On Christmas morning, when I untied the bow around the paper Ariane had rolled up, I braced myself. The story was indeed sad, yet hopeful, wonderful and important, like all of Emma’s stories. It was also very private, and so, days later, I still hadn’t asked Emma if I could/should publish it. Ariane asked her today and Emma said she didn’t want the entire story published, but it was okay to post this section:

“One day there was a man and woman who fell in love.  They eventually had two children, one son and one daughter.  They were very happy.  The daughter was distinctly different, but meant well.  She did not understand many of the ways of her family.

“Her father told her that she was kind and smart.  She ran away because no one believed her to be clever, even though her parents did.  Her father wanted many to realize how smart she really was.  So he told others “do not treat my daughter like a baby.”  People did not listen.

“His daughter was sad, but her parents believed in her, and that mattered more.  She was the luckiest girl in the world.”

I’m so glad Emma feels this way. I wish she were even “luckier” and we had known all these things about her many years ago. I do truly believe that I am the luckiest dad in the world. Like Emma, I feel incredibly sad that I underestimated Emma for so long, that I was so utterly clueless to this entirely different aspect of her, that I could not see and appreciate. But I feel so blessed today to hear and see all these amazing parts of Emma I had never understood.

“Better late than never” is an apt phrase to convey both the joy and sorrow I feel, now that I’m aware of what is certainly only a small fraction of Emma’s talents, feelings, insights, intelligence and her poetic soul. It is also an apt phrase to convey the necessity of getting this message out to the world, something that Emma and Ariane, and so many other autistic people and their families and friends have been struggling so hard to do for so long, in the face of an Everest-sized mountain of misinformation from so-called “autism experts.” The most heinous sub(human) class of these is the “debunking” posse, who seem to spend every waking moment of their lives trying to discredit any assisted communication methods for autistic people. Yet no matter how hard they try, and they do try really hard–they will never succeed in keeping these blindingly brilliant autistic minds imprisoned by their willful and malicious ignorance.

The three best gifts I’ve ever been blessed with are my wife Ariane (who I met at a party on Christmas day 15 years ago!), and my wonderful children, Nicholas (age 13), and Emma (who turns 12 in January).

Emma is such a wonderful gift in so many ways. I could write another (even longer) post just listing all the amazing blessings she has brought to me and our family. But I’ll simply conclude by repeating one of the sections of her story that Emma agreed to publish, because it’s the kind of “better late than never” message so many more people need to hear:

“Her father wanted many to realize how smart she really was.  So he told others ‘do not treat my daughter like a baby.’  People did not listen.”

Maybe they are listening now, Emma. Maybe more and more people will hear your voice and the voices of your autistic brothers and sisters. Maybe all these people will someday be lucky enough to experience the gift of Emma.

Emma showing off her new red beret and her new art work (a collage of relatives).

Emma showing off her new red beret and her new art work (a collage of relatives).

 

More Insights From Emma

My entire routine has been so thoroughly disrupted these past three weeks that this blog has suffered the consequences.  There’s simply too much going on, not in a bad way necessarily, but more than I have been able to keep up with.  But today…   Today both kids are out skiing and I have a few hours to write.

Emma has been writing a great deal.  In fact Emma wrote three stories as Christmas presents to her granma, her Uncle and Aunt and her dad.  Each one is beautiful and poignant and kind of over the top amazing in its complexity and layered meaning.  I transcribed the one for her granma ‘here‘.  In the story to her Uncle and Aunt, the final sentence was, “No words need to be used to hear love.”  Think about that for a second…  This kind of insight shows a level of sophistication and poetic understanding of the world few adults have managed to appreciate, let alone, express.   Emma is eleven years old.

In the story for her dad she wrote about a  daughter who, “Daily she tried to communicate her love for her family, but her words came out of her mouth wrong.  In day after day conversation she was misunderstood.  Finally she began to write on a stencil board and the words came out right.”  I am quoting this here because this is exactly the sort of thing so many of us get hung up on.  How many times have we seen or heard parents talk about their distress because their child is not able to say those three words, “I love you”?  How many times did I once, not so long ago, lament that my child had not ever said those words without being prompted to?  How often did I wonder and question her love?  And now…  now I wonder why and how could I have ever questioned those feelings?  How was it possible that I ever doubted her?  I say this lovingly and with tremendous compassion for all who have ever wondered this about their child.  We are being given incorrect information about autism and our children.  But I wonder if I would be so certain if my daughter were not writing and telling me the things that she is.

As I’ve stated before, writing is hard work for Emma and even though all of us, who receive her words, feel incredibly grateful to read anything she writes, it is difficult for Emma to express herself even in writing.  I say this as much as a reminder to myself as to inform those who may not fully appreciate how hard it is for her.  Often, when people hear that Emma is writing, and writing some pretty profound insights about the world, herself and autism, they will say, “but why not just give her an iPad or let her write on a computer?”  And then I must try to find the best words to explain.  It isn’t that easy or that simple, if it were, she would have begun writing a long time ago.

I’ve described before the process ‘here‘ and ‘here‘ that Emma uses to write, one letter pointed to at a time, on a stencil board, while a trusted person transcribes each letter or word one by one.  I have worked with Emma since the end of September almost daily and am now one of the people she can and does write with, to express herself.  She is incredibly generous in her willingness to allow me to quote her and almost always gives me permission to quote her on this blog, something I am doing more and more frequently!

This morning I talked to her about skiing with a ski pro, asking whether she’d like me to ski too.  She told me she preferred that I did not come too, and when I asked what, if anything, she wanted me to tell the ski instructor, she wrote about how she wanted to eat lunch early and then wrote, “Have to understand my mind talks heavy thoughts, but my mouth talks silliness.”   I asked her what she advised and she wrote, “Try to be patient and do not over rate talking to each other.”

A message we talkers would do well to appreciate and try our best to implement.

Emma’s Eyes ~ A Self Portrait

Em