Traveling Show

Sunday Thoughts

Sun, 19 May 2013 23:41:14 -0400

Autism Speaks walked today. I decided not to protest. I had other things to do. I also felt that there were better uses of my time and energy. Something about the pitiful ratio of people who talk big online to those who come out weighed down my spirits. I sat this one out knowing that there were at least flyers. Those light posts were private property, so I will not say who put them up. Maybe someone will see the pleas for reason. Maybe someone will care. It was probably more effective than shouting at them. I am resisting the urge to go looking for an argument with the organizers later. Last year, I managed to find one at Target.

Instead, I am trying to muster the energy to do something useful: someone at the state wants an autistic perspective on the insurance-coverage-for-ABA bill they want passed. I should write it. Today or tomorrow, I will. It might be tomorrow. I am tired from visiting one friend last night, helping another move the night before. My friend-group’s fleet leaves something to be desired. My Buick is our only vehicle big enough to be useful for moving. It gives me hope that the state is soliciting autistic opinions. There more sense in Georgia than I realized. I hope that, between disability advocates and regulation-hating conservatives, we can prevent ‘quiet hands.’ I would love to see this turn into a discussion that might ultimately lead to a better bill. There are services families could use. I like to see Georgia taking an interest in autism and disability issues. However, I worry that the existing legislation would incentivize ABA, create a market for more of it, and cause a lot of the most inexperienced, ham-handed, child-traumatizing variety to spring up. An abrupt expansion of demand for ABA is a scary thought. Tonight or in the morning, I will write that up and finish my IRB papers. These are small, good things I can do. After that, I should sleep.

Please Help with my Disability-Related Research

Thu, 09 May 2013 11:47:05 -0400

I have eight credit hours and a grant to study Georgia’s Central State Hospital, once the largest such institution in the world. I plan to seek IRB approval, so it is likely that I will be able to talk to vulnerable people. I am willing to be discrete. This story remains untold to an amazing degree given the number of people involved. I would love to hear from anyone who knows anything. If you would rather not reach out to me on Tumblr, drop me a line at larkin92@comcast.net. The other way you can help is by passing this on. I need all the signal boosts I can get.

Tomorrow is the School Visit

Mon, 06 May 2013 17:11:10 -0400

The only thing better than getting to show kids that tuba is awesome is getting to show autistic kids that tuba is awesome and that they can do cool things when they grow up.

loveablegeek: My Asperger’s diagnosis amounts to programming to look rationally at an irrational...

Mon, 06 May 2013 17:04:07 -0400

loveablegeek:

My Asperger’s diagnosis amounts to programming to look rationally at an irrational world. My brain’s suffering right now, spending cycles to work through things that are inherently irrational and trying to find something logical in the mess.

I hope things get easier. Laughing at the outlandish parts helps me. It might be different for you.

Thinking Person's Guide to Autism: Rethinking Unhappiness

Mon, 06 May 2013 17:01:29 -0400

Thinking Person's Guide to Autism: Rethinking Unhappiness:

Click the link. It is happy, a textbook example of a parent getting it right. If you are a parent and cannot come to terms with the child you have, you are in the wrong. If you are on the fence, imagine your child as an adult. If they are not currently communicative in words of some form, imagine that changing. It may well. What will you feel if your child asks why you loved the imaginary, ‘fixed’ version more than the real thing? What if your kid turns to you, makes rare, unbroken eye contact, and asks why you hated them enough to try replacing them with a different person? Could you live with that?

April Reflections: the I-20 Lights

Thu, 02 May 2013 23:42:54 -0400

I got my first good look at Atlanta taking the long way into Decatur, 75/85 to I-20, Moreland, and Dekalb through interesting parts of town. That was one of my worst days, but those roads are where my life happens, now. Downtown, as seen on a spring night from the window of a car around the cultural speed limit, looks like home. I see it at least once a week. I hate the way they light it up blue. The next time I make the trip home from Douglass, those insipid floodlights will be gone. They were always jarring.

The skyline was an unpleasant reminder of times I would rather forget, but it never ruined my night. They were distant. The radio, the cushy, leather seats, the engine’s hearty rumble, the beautiful tuba were more real. So was the rehearsal that prefaces the drive. I like musicians, especially tuba players, because no one cares what I am. The band has substance. The section is alive. The lights had ninety seconds. People who care more about what I do and choose to be than what I was born had two hours. These things were before blue, or any, light bulbs. The needs for community, expression run marrow deep in humankind. Bread and roses, people of goodwill, and implausible tuba sections will outlast the pathetic display. In the mean time, I am safe.

What really bothered me about the lights is that not everyone is. They represent marginalization on a long spectrum. At one end, in my life, the discomfort is an inaudible hiss if the radio is on. It usually is. At the other, there are murders and apologists. Between, there are dour group homes, people who are about to age out of public school without a clear next step, kids whose parents are trying to ‘recover’ them. I spoke to one such mother. in April. She wanted to know how I got well. I said I was never sick, suggested that it was possible her son would grow up to feel the same way. The lights represent a narrative that we are suffering, waiting at the doorway of personhood for someone to let us in. It is a compelling story, wise researchers and brave, devoted relatives saving the helpless and ill.

Inclusion is an inherently harder sell. There are no heroes, just people quietly making room. The medical model is the stuff of bestsellers. The social model is the lady down the street hiring a guy with an intellectual disability to stock shelves in her store. The lights on I-20, the DSM V controversy, and articles like this remind me that society is wrestling with the question of normalcy: what does it mean to be sick vs. well, broken vs. whole, productive vs. useless? I presume competence. Anything else leaves precious human potential untapped. I am not going to argue with someone who feels healthy, whole, content as they are. I am not going to decide what kinds of people to exclude from the human community. I do not presume to be wise enough to know what innate ways of being should be cured. I know I want mine left alone. Blue lights were a reminder that not everyone agrees. There are people who think I, by definition, cannot answer the question.

These individuals annoy me, but there is nothing they can do to me. My competence at things society values, relatively good executive functioning, car title, driver’s license, bank account, voter registration, friends, contacts, and acquaintances cement my status as someone who can decide things. No one is going to do anything to me. I had to earn acknowledgement as fully human, but I got it. Were it otherwise, I doubt the lights would have been mildly unpleasant. They might have been frightening.

Autistic Drift: how to make friends if you are an aspie?

Wed, 10 Apr 2013 22:42:42 -0400

Autistic Drift: how to make friends if you are an aspie?:

autisticdrift:

Making friends can be hard. The only way I’ve ever made friends as an adult was via a common interest.

I’ve tried making friends with neighbors or moms of my child’s friends (the way other women seem to do) but have never been successful because I have no idea what women talk about or how to…

You have something with common interests. Those are important. There is something else that helps. There is no delicate way to put this: find other weird people. They do not necessarily have to be autistic, but it helps if they are eccentric. People like that are usually less judgmental and more accepting. Almost everyone I have been able to connect with deeply is odd or has been marginalized in some way.

MIniature Wood Houses (by Daniel Barreto) [The images are...

Wed, 10 Apr 2013 01:13:02 -0400

MIniature Wood Houses (by Daniel Barreto)

[The images are trees standing in the snow at night. They have glowing windows set into their trunks].

This is incredible. How do I make one?

I am. I am. I am.: nothingaboutus-withoutus: toriilovexoxo: Hello everyone! This is my...

Wed, 10 Apr 2013 00:48:25 -0400

I am. I am. I am.: nothingaboutus-withoutus: toriilovexoxo: Hello everyone! This is my...:

nothingaboutus-withoutus:

toriilovexoxo:

Hello everyone! This is my little sister, Emily. Emily looks like a normal girl, doesn’t she? Sadly, my sister was diagnosed with autism at the age of two. For those of you who do not know what autism is, I will explain. Autism is a mental…

Actually, we can form relationships. That is the most offensive thing you said. Where did you look it up? Do you have any research to support that outrageous claim? I have known and loved one of my best friends for over ten years. That is a relationship. My parents, one autistic, have been together over twenty-five years with all the beauty, flaws, depth, and commitment that entails. Are you going to tell me that a marriage that survived a University of Chicago Ph. D. program and two children is fake?

Before you argue that you meant really seriously autistic people, not your dad with his marriage and career and advanced degree, let me tell you something: I discovered my diagnosis in high school and immediately began volunteering in two self-contained classes that were exclusively for autistics. They were all diagnosed LFA. I made friends with two of them. One was sort of, sometimes, non-traditionally verbal. He will always need supports in daily life. We hung out for a couple of years. He attended my sixteenth birthday party. Between my junior and senior years, I moved to another state. I went to visit my remaining schoolmates over a year later, after my class had graduated. He did not catch up with me in the same way that other people did, but he knew who I was. He was very pleased to see me. That is friendship, relationship between two autistics. He likes castles. I got to go to the Czech Republic the summer after that and sent him a postcard with a picture for each one I visited. Remembering what a friend likes, including him in it as best I could without the money to buy him a plane ticket, is what relationship means.

There was another kid in the self-contained class who smiled, high-fived, and used his ten words whenever he saw me. He did not do that for everyone. He was not well-spoken but made up for it by being stunningly articulate on keyboard. He is a brilliant jazz pianist.* Not everyone knew that. He never felt like showing off in front of his teacher. He had to particularly like someone to stop banging out tunes the music therapist color-coded on that cheap, little keyboard. His way of having relationships is bestowing this remarkable gift. It is probably the only thing in his life that he controls. He shows preference for some people, and affection, by sharing it. On my end, relationship, or the remnants of it, is regret that I never managed to get contact information for him. He has turned twenty-one and left the school. I think of him often. When I do, I worry. I pray that someone else has discovered how brilliant he is. That might save his life. He is a disabled, almost nonverbal man of color from a working class background. He is not as charming and handsome as the first guy I described. Terrible things happen to people like him. I worry less about the first young man. It is not easy for him to communicate over distances, but he has a great family. He has siblings who will never let anyone hurt him.

I am like your sister in some important ways. I care about her without even knowing her. I am devoting my life to improving her prospects. I am glad to know you care. That is good news for her chances at a decent life. I have to tell you that someone is misleading you. She can form relationships. Her way of doing that may lack words, but she knows you. If you are the one taking the picture, she clearly adores you. Look at that smile. The person behind the camera is special to her. Have enough respect for her to acknowledge the obvious. In the future, do not believe people who tell you things that contradict realities staring you in the face. At best, they are ignorant. At worst, they think you and your money might be easily parted. This poor girl is probably wondering why no one understands that she can love them. That is the saddest thing I have seen since I saw a story about another autistic kid killed by her relatives earlier today.

*I refuse to call him a savant. Disabled people can be good at things, too. There does not need to be a special word for that. As a musician, I have too much respect for him to treat talent I can only imagine having as a symptom.

Anyone Harassing Autism Speaks on Facebook:

Thu, 04 Apr 2013 17:55:53 -0400

Another option is finding the casual donors. Give them a couple of links showing why Autism Speaks is not what they think. You can divert thousands of dollars to real charities that way.

The Day I Taught How Not To Rape

Wed, 03 Apr 2013 17:08:00 -0400

The Day I Taught How Not To Rape:

oatsandyoga:

dancinginthesetrees:

““Ms. Norman” another kid called, “Have you heard about that rape case in Ohio? Those guys got convicted. They have to go to jail. They are going to lose their scholarships. They were going to D-1 schools!”

“Well…”I responded, feeling the heat crawl up my neck, “maybe they are going to jail for rape because THEY ARE RAPISTS!” I yelled those last three words at my kids and watched as some of them blinked in surprise. Apparently, the thought had never occurred to them that these athletes who were convicted of rape, were in fact rapists.

It is a strange thing about looking into the face of a 15-year-old, to really see who they are. You still see the small child that their mother sees. You see the man or woman they will be before they graduate. They are babies whose innocence you want desperately to protect. They are old enough to know better, even if no one has taught them.

I realized then that some of my kids were genuinely confused. “How can she be raped?” they asked, “She wasn’t awake to say no.” These words out of a full fledged adult would have made me furious. I did get a good few minutes in response on victim blaming and why it is so terrible. But out of the face of a kid who still has baby fat, those words just made me sick. My students are still young enough, that mostly they just spout what they have learned, and they have learned that absent a no, the yes is implied.

It is uncomfortable to think that some of the students you still call babies have the potential to be rapists. It is sickening, it is terrifying, but it is true. It is a reality we have to face. My students have lived in a world for fifteen years where the joke “she probably wanted it” isn’t really a joke, they need to unlearn some lessons that no one will admit to teaching them.

Standing in front of my classroom and stating that a woman’s clothing choice is never permission to rape her should not be a radical act. But only a few heads nodded in agreement. Most were stunned, like this was a completely new thought. The follow up questions were terrifying in their earnestness. “Ms. Norman, you mean a woman walking down the street naked is not her inviting sex? How will I know she wants to have sex?” A surprisingly bold voice came out of a girl in the back “You’ll know when she says, you want to have sex?!”

If you want to keep teens from being rapists, you can no longer assume that they know how. You HAVE to talk about it. There is no longer a choice. It is no longer enough to talk to our kids about the mechanics of sex, it probably never was. We have to talk about consent, what it means, and how you are sure you have it. We have to teach clearly and boldly that consent is (in the words of Dianna E. Anderson) an enthusiastic, unequivocal YES!”

-A selection from an excellent blog post by Abby Norman, a 9th grade teacher who, after introducing a poem to the class for discussion, accidentally found herself teaching them about consent.

This is why it is SO IMPORTANT to talk about consent as a yes instead of a lack of no. And why we must TEACH it instead of assuming that people already understand.

So powerful.

It restores my faith in humanity a bit that a teacher is doing this.

I just checked my messages for the first time in six weeks. Nice anons are nice.

Tue, 02 Apr 2013 23:43:37 -0400

I just checked my messages for the first time in six weeks. Nice anons are nice.

April is Autism Awareness Month. Autistics are trying to reclaim it because making it go away seems...

Tue, 02 Apr 2013 22:27:11 -0400

April is Autism Awareness Month. Autistics are trying to reclaim it because making it go away seems impossible at this point. If you care about why April is contentious and we get angry with you sometimes, this is a great month to learn about ableism and good vs. bad awareness.

Ableism is real. Ignoring it makes you part of the problem, the inert mass of apathetic people who slow down structural change that would help your children. It has almost certainly entered your home. It is like a termite infestation in that it can go unnoticed until the damage wrecks havoc on family life. Like a termite infestation, there are things you can do about it. The faster you act, the better. Ignoring it maximizes the harm. Spotting it is the first thing to learn.

Ableism is an oppression. Oppressions are systematic disadvantages attached to certain identities. Ableism is the one connected to disability. It has some fundamental assumptions that usually look something like this:

The disabled life is inherently low- or lower-quality.
People with disabilities are inherently incompetent.
The disabled are not authorities on their own experience.
The medical model* is always the best way to deal with all disabilities.
Disabled people need others to speak for them.
Disabled people are inherently at being agents, advocating for themselves, and making their own life decisions. It is always best for others to do this for them.

If you are not familiar with the dangers of assumptions, click here. You will see these assumptions throughout April awareness events. When you see people talking or writing about autism and none of them are autistic, you have seen ableism. When you see us described, across the board, as tragedies or victims, it reared its ugly head. I encourage you to play bingo with this list for a month, especially with yourself. This is not to say that you should stop recognizing your child’s disability. Deal with your child with all their strengths and weaknesses, including those associated with their disability, in mind. When you catch yourself being ableist, apologize. Rethink your assumptions. Try to mitigate the damage. Make it right, especially when you accidentally hurt your child. Avoiding ableism teaches your child to feel entitled to their basic, human rights. It helps them grow up with self-esteem. It lays a strong foundation for your efforts to teach self-advocacy. Recognizing one’s prejudice is difficult. So is much of child-rearing. This is one more task to undertake out of parental love.

*Not everyone wants to educate you. I do but have a student’s temporal limits. Google the models of disability yourself so that I have time to handle more complex things.

I am autistic, and have sensory integration issues, am tactile defensive, have auditory processing disorder, and a few other issues. But thanks for your post that enlightened me to a world that "know nothing about" and directed me to a tag that is actually for me. That was super sweet of you! <333333

Sat, 09 Mar 2013 10:02:54 -0500

In that case, it was super sweet of you to speak for everyone with a remotely similar neurology.

A sinner seeking manic martyrdom.: "Autism is not a negative thing."

Fri, 08 Mar 2013 23:45:18 -0500

A sinner seeking manic martyrdom.: "Autism is not a negative thing.":

rhapsody-in-neon-aubergine:

I saw this quote on a blog I read, and felt the need to comment on it, but couldn’t in that venue, so you, my dear followers, are being treated to a text post.

As some of you know, I am a part-time nanny for a family with three children, the eldest, who will here be called S, has severe autism….

Are you autistic? #actuallyautistic is for autistics, not you. Getting to decide whether it is positive or negative is for us, who experience it, not you, who judging. There are nonspeaking people who will always need help with daily activities, such as Amy Sequenzia, who would not change themselves. We have to live with this. Sometimes, it is a struggle. Not everyone here can drive, hold down a job, etc. Not everyone here can speak. If you had read anything in this tag, you might know that. I can do those things but have still had a brutally hard time in college due to sensory issues. Autism has still done more good than harm in my life. Not everyone on the spectrum feels the same way, but that is for us to decide as individuals. The vast majority of people I have heard from, including those whose keyboards are their only means of communication, would not change because it is an identity. The way we see, hear, smell, touch, taste, every memory we have ever formed, goes through the lens of autism. Your brain wiring is a lens, too, as ‘man’ is no less a gender for being the default. You will never see through our lens. The best you can do is ask us how it is instead of telling us. Even then, we speak from our own experience. I can hardly be expected to explain everything a boy I know, similar in functioning level, but over ten years younger, male, and a physics prodigy, says and does. All people need to communicate for themselves. When behavior is recognized as communication, one sees that practically all people can. No one needs you to speak for them. No one wants you on a tag we devised for our voices. No one invited your opinion. No one cares about it. Try #autism, which is for everyone with something to say about it.

Visiting Children

Fri, 08 Mar 2013 17:21:18 -0500

This week, I got an invitation to play at a school and meet students. They want their kids on the spectrum exposed to autistic adults. Meeting such children is great but slightly fraught. Do they have expectations? If so, what are they? Do I measure up? Did well-meaning adults drag them into an encounter they may not want yet? Do they have it better than I did at the same age? Are they more sheltered than I was? Do they feel safe?

I hope so. I came to the realization that I was different and discovered oppression around age three. The oldest ones, young teens, need to know what they are up against. I hope the kindergarteners do not. Nurtured through their early years by adults who see nothing broken about them, will they be spared the PTSD etc. that plague my cohort, or will dealing with the real world be all the more jarring? I hope they will be happier, less damaged, less angry than many of us. I hope they will grow up feeling entitled to all the opportunity their allistic peers enjoy.

I thought hard about a brief set list for the occasion, came to the conclusion that two things have to be on it:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HjRJvwpQTC4

This suits the tuba. I like to play it fast for kids. It sounds impressive enough to get them excited with improvised, jazz- and swing-style curlicues. The lyrics, not that anyone will hear them, are clean. They are dated in that “man” stands in for person, but the message is positive. I hope they grow up feeling like all its ‘wants’ are within reach.

I also have to play this:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3VMSGrY-IlU

I respond to requests to help parents out of concern for autistic children. I trust some, but, taking them at their word that a small percentage will harm kids without help, treating requests for support as life-and-death matters logically follows. I never turn them down. However, I deal with children directly for different reasons, in someone else’s memory. Hundreds of miles away, before most of the kids I will meet were born, I listened to that song with an autistic adult who took an interest in me in a car that smelled like Camel cigarettes. No one outside of my immediate circles needs that name.* I never refuse a request to meet children because I felt something rare in that car: safe. Before I had a word for what I was, I suspected that there was at least one more. I thought I might not be alone. I cram kids into my schedule because they deserve to be sure of what I half-believed. I got by on that hope for years. There is no telling what they can do if they know.

*I have shared most of my history with this cause. The stakes are too high for anyone to hold potentially-useful story back. That name is one of the few things I hold too sacred for the grubby hands of factions harassing each other online and IRL. Someday, if I make money and other surviving loved ones approve, there will be a fitting tribute. Until then, rare silence in the information age is the best I can do.

Apparently, Georgia’s new bill to make insurers pay for autism-related things is an Autism...

Thu, 07 Mar 2013 19:33:01 -0500

Apparently, Georgia’s new bill to make insurers pay for autism-related things is an Autism Speaks sponsored effort to get ABA everywhere.

virginityincluded: I feel like this damaged I’ve sustained over the years is irreversible. I don’t...

Wed, 06 Mar 2013 00:38:20 -0500

virginityincluded:

I feel like this damaged I’ve sustained over the years is irreversible. I don’t know who I am, I don’t know what I am. I experience such intense negative emotions. My mental health is just so fucked. I have no skin. I fuckin’ hate being autistic. If I was neurotypical with these issues, I might be better off. Bleh.

I am not given to discussing personal matters online. I use my real name, plan to have a career, have given enough of my privacy to causes. I also have never had BPD. I will acknowledge knowing what it is to feel broken. Hang on. Human resilience is amazing. Whatever you are is inherently, indisputably worthwhile. Life will never be easy but can probably be better than it is now, autism and all.

Autistic People Should Continued

Sun, 24 Feb 2013 00:33:14 -0500

While it is true and important that we should exist, be respected, be heard, etc., I would rather hear about what we should do for ourselves and each other. We may not always be able to get others to do what we want but can control our own behavior. We should always be valued as others are, but we all know that. Not everyone does. Not everyone will. What can we do to improve life for ourselves when not everyone else is on board?

Could you promote Queerability? It's a brand new blog for LGBTQ+ disabled people!

Sun, 24 Feb 2013 00:19:38 -0500

Anyone who has not seen Queerability on Tumblr and Facebook should check it out. This is Kris’ baby and a great resource.