Divided

Not for the first time, the Autism community is divided. In a widely publicized case, a mother attempted to murder her daughter and then commit suicide. It didn’t go as planned and the mother is now in jail while the daughter is home with her father and two siblings. Apparently, the child’s behavior drove the mother to this act. The television show that interviewed the mother showed the same video of the daughter hitting the mother over and over. It seemed like that was the only footage available. There were no pictures of the happy times, although if you search YouTube you can find several videos of this nature. The television show played right into the belief that anger and violence are the number one characteristics of people with Autism.

It’s not that way. It’s never been that way. But like all stories, it’s easier to grab attention by pointing out the most egregious parts of a story. The public’s perception of Autism needs to change.

I speak from many viewpoints. I am Autistic. I have 2 children who are Autistic. I am a special needs teacher who worked in classrooms dedicated to Autism. I also taught in classrooms dedicated to behaviorally challenged kids. And I taught in a resource classroom. I’ve taught grades K-21. I’m 46 years old. My kids are now young adults. So yes, I have a certain amount of perspective.

I’ve been hit by students. Punched. Bit. A dislocated shoulder here, a broken foot there and throw in a MRSA infection for good measure. I’ve had parents refuse to answer their phone during the school day because they just needed a break. I get that living with an individual with any disability is challenging. People with more challenges are more challenging to live with.

But, does that give me the right, or even moral authority, to murder someone?

The discussion on social media is all about how the mother needed more support. How she clearly isn’t in her right mind. And how her daughter’s behaviors put here in this position. Parents of children with severe Autism are making the mother out to be a victim. I guess you can put it that way. She is a victim of society, of people wanting to believe nothing like this could ever happen in their backyard. Of a society that, despite cries for help, turned a deaf ear.

But the daughter had no say in this. Her disability is such that her communication is physical. She can’t speak. She can’t tell anyone her story. She certainly didn’t tell her mother she wanted to die.

Division. Autism is a spectrum disorder. The impairments vary wildly. It is usually parents of children who are severely affected who want cures. Who send virtual hugs to a mother who thinks murder is okay. They’ve been there, they understand. No one else can possibly understand their lives, so they must sympathize.

And then there’s the rest of us. High enough functioning to fit, sort of, in society. Slow, quirky, anxious. But we’re managing. And many of us do not want to be cured. Many of us see Autism as an integral part of our personalities. It’s in our character. After living with Autism for 40+ years, I wouldn’t know what to do if it suddenly disappeared.

The face of Autism does NOT exist. We look just like you. We’re not monsters or mass murderers. We’re your friends, neighbors and co-workers.

We’re also members of your community, regardless of how we function or communicate. Years of hiding and denying that people with moderate to severe disabilities even exist has created an environment where non-disabled people are shocked by disability. Then they latch on to the “normal” aspect and minimize the damage caused by trying to fix something that is innate in an individual.

Yes, we need more services. Yes, we need more support. But most of all, we need acceptance.

You knew me as a child and called me an introvert. You knew me as teenager and called me quirky. You knew me as a young adult and called me weird. You knew me as a co-worker and called me eccentric. You know me as an adult and I know there’s room for all of us.

Less Than

All around the world, people are determined to be less than human. Women and girls are treated as property to be sold. Or killed. Ethnic minorities are annihilated. Groups are literally clawing their way into power so they can dictate how others may live. There is always someone who is seen as less than deserving.

Those are examples that I see in the news. They are distant. Yes, I suffer from NIMBY syndrome sometimes. But if you recognize the name Malala, you know that these atrocities are happening…daily.

In my own backyard, today marks a day of shame. Most of you have probably never heard of Issy Stapleton. Issy has a severe form of Autism. Last year, her mother decided the best course of action was to murder Issy and herself. She did not succeed. The mother is in jail, having pled down to child abuse a few weeks ago. A major media figure is interviewing her today. The mother is a victim in his view, because Issy is too much to take care of.

The way it works in my city, attempted murder is attempted murder. There may be extenuating circumstances, but it’s still attempted murder. Why then is the mother receiving so much sympathy and recognition? Because Issy has a disability.

People with disabilities are often seen as “less than.” Less than capable. Less than worthy. Less than valuable. Less than necessary. Less than human.

Yes, this family needs support. The services that Issy needs aren’t available. It’s not just Issy. I know my city fails at meeting the needs of people with disabilities. I know that many schools feel it is appropriate to request a parent to medicate their child into compliance rather than figure out what the child really needs.

We have failed. In our eagerness to create equality, we have left our most vulnerable behind. In our rush to make “more” out of people, we have discarded those we don’t feel have value. Every life has value.

Now think about what you can do. Take some time out of your day and look at your neighbors. How many of their names do you know? You can effect change. Reach out to others and develop real, live friendships instead if sending virtual hugs. Don’t be afraid to say hello. Sometimes, just knowing that a person cares is enough. Other times, knowing you can reach out and ask for help is a treasure.

Don’t try to put yourself in the mother’s shoes. Issy is the victim. Issy is reaching out the only way she knows how. Can you hear her?

 

 

Heroes

I  am so tired of teachers! Yes, all of them. And I’m theoretically one of them. Just try, for just a bit, to see your students as something other than a job. Try to leave your personal issues at the door so they don’t bleed over into the classroom. Try to be an adult and not resort to shaming children to cover up your inadequacies and mistakes. Recognize that you are a role model and then act like one.

I know you’re overworked, underpaid and very underappreciated. But, you chose this profession. You made a conscious decision to impact lives through education. You can also choose to change. No one is forcing you to continuing teaching.

Consider the harm you are capable of unintentionally inflicted upon students with your careless words and blasé attitude. Your students think the world of you. And yet, these same kids get beaten down because you have too much else on your plate to see what they can accomplish. You don’t see their potential because you are too busy trying to point out their flaws.

I miss my village. I miss compassion, understanding and cooperative effort. I miss having people in my life that are willing to hold me accountable without tearing me to bits. Here’s to you Mrs. Dunning, Mrs. Johnson, Mr. Cleckner,  Ms. McCray, Mr. Nissly and Ms. Fisher. Even Mr. Hashim who made me copy pages from the dictionary because I swore in class. Here’s to all the adults who watched over me and took the time to redirect my course when I strayed too far. Wherever you are, you are my heroes.

The 1%

This is a political term that has been picked up as the rally cry of “The Other 99%” when discussing wealth distribution in the United States. I have friends who feel a certain senator is “right on” by demanding anyone who makes more than a “living wage” contribute a larger share of their income to make life more “equal” for all citizens. If you detect sarcasm, you should probably just stop reading now, because it’s not going to become any less so.

I realize that my income is above the poverty line in America. It’s also above many other’s income. It is certainly far below millionaire status. When people state that anyone who makes more than $100,000 should pay more in taxes, I get angry. Yes, that’s a lot of money. But, in exchange for earning that money, I get the privilege of paying 28% back to the government while others pay nothing (low or high income both benefit). There are no federal subsidies in my life because, well, they are income based. That includes college money for my kids. Aside from standard deductions on federal taxes and a mortgage deduction, I receive no other incentives, tax breaks, assistance whatsoever.

Oh, poor you! Then you missed the point. I am a regular citizen, living in suburbia. I don’t have a mansion with staff. I’m educating three kids who plan to live self-sufficiently once they earn their degrees. I don’t go on extravagant vacations. My cars are all older. I’m still wearing the jeans I bought 5 years ago. Those are choices. In order to do X, I forgo Y. I don’t have an iphone 6. My Android is almost 3 years old (gasp!). It’s called a budget and priorities.

I have another friend who argues that a living wage ($15/hour) should be given to every employee. While there are definitely some valid points in that argument, let me point out that a teacher, who went to school and advanced their knowledge enough to be in a position to share that knowledge, currently earns approximately $19.78 per hour in my area. Yes, that’s wrong in and of itself.

Minimum wage jobs used to be stepping-stones. Now they’re permanent. So permanent that when my kids wanted to get jobs, no one was hiring anyone under the age of 18. A 18 year old used to think minimum wage was pretty good. It’s not so good when you’re 30.

The problem won’t be fixed by having the government tap the wallets of people who happen to make more than poverty line wages. It’s not “social equality” to redistribute money by force. If you need a lesson on that, take a look at what’s happening in other parts of the world where that method is commonplace.

The argument that not everyone can get an education due to finances is simply not true. There are other obstacles, like being able to get to the campus that may be money related, but the actual education part is just simply not true. Within my immediate community, certain students can receive “2+2” scholarships to attend community college then the state university with the only requirement being the student must come from a low-income home. The community college offers need based scholarships (not loans) to the tune of $8 million per year. I have been told by several individuals that community college is for losers. Perhaps that image needs to change,

There is the reality that a college education isn’t worth anything but more debt. That is a valid argument. My first degree is in Medieval European History. My first post-degree job? Secretary. Don’t expect to make $100K with a liberal arts degree. Ergo, don’t take on so much education debt without first doing the research to find out what’s out there in the job market for that degree.

Ack! I wandered. Seriously, get your hands off my wallet. I clawed my way to this point. I’ve been a sales clerk, a night hotel manager, a soda stocker, a secretary, a direct sales tem member, a copy shop employee, a library tech, a teaching assistant and a teacher. I know I’ve forgotten a few. I’ve watched my pennies and invested the few amounts of spare change I had. I do my research and vet any opportunities that come my way to determine if it’s going to help or hinder my life. I’m not too proud to work at whatever job I need to do to get where I’m going.

And that is where it’s at. No job is beneath anyone. You don’t move up if you’re standing still. Tuck that pride away and just do the job until another opportunity comes along. You aren’t “owed” anything financially. Oh, and that thing about “no jobs?” I just used a search engine and discovered 887 entry-level positions within 10 miles of my zip code. You do the math…I’m a liberal arts major.

Faker, faker, faker

I’m starting to really dislike this word. The meaning has become more personally derogatory of late. It used to just mean counterfeit. Now it implies a person is less than competent.

Lately the media has reported at least weekly about fake service dogs. One article even tells people how to spot a fake dog. Canine Companions International has started a petition to combat fake service dogs by require registration (which will eventually lead to requiring everyone to go through a program, many of which are fraudulent themselves). In the 4 years since I started paying attention, I seen exactly one obviously fraudulent service dog and a few questionable ones.

But, here’s where things get out of control. The service dog community insists that businesses can only ask the two magical questions outlined in the ADA. Where exactly do we get permission to ask more? When did we become the disability police vested with the right to determine if someone is disabled enough? Why do people attack each other, to the point where fights break out, over what “enough” is?

Honestly. I left that world behind. I was attacked because I’m not disabled enough. I was attacked because my dog is owner trained, not from a program. I was attacked because there “is no way” my dog’s breed is capable of doing service dog work. I was attacked because I chose “the wrong gear” for my service dog to work in. I was attacked because I was “taking resources” from people who needed them more.

Huh? Last time I checked, the use of a service dog was a personal decision made with input from a physician (to make sure other options were discussed) and a lot of research. There was no “I must have one” in my journey. There is no “cool” factor in my decision. The reality is, I am still training my dog every. single. day. I use gear that keeps her comfortable for the 12-14 hour days we spend outside my home. And I can assure you, she can do the work assigned to her. She could probably do more, but we’ve got what we need, thanks for asking.

As far as taking away resources…that’s a whole different blog. I’m not going to apologize for a) having worked hard enough to have enough money to pay for the things I want and b) prioritizing how I spend my money to accommodate the things I need and the things I want.

Oh, and “disabled enough?” Please. That’s a discussion I have with my physicians, not the general public. There are actually medical descriptions that are used to determine disability. I didn’t just decide one day that I was disabled. Years of degenerative disease made that decision for me.

So, I’ll make you a deal. You mind your business and I’ll mind mine. You keep your dog away from mine unless we’ve already discussed a meet-up and I’ll do the same. Well-behaved or reactive, just keep on walking. Harnessed, vested or naked, just keep on walking. Friendly, stand-offish or in-between, just keep on walking. Giant, large, small or toy, just keep walking. But for the love of all dogs, try to leave a good impression as you walk around. There are people out there just trolling for stories and you don’t want to be the circus of the day.

Vaguebooking

Robin William’s suicide has left an impression, however brief, on social media. It’s already faded from most of my friend’s posts. I have a few die-hard friends who are still attempting to get the rest of the world to stop stigmatizing mental illness in any form. I wish there were more of them and fewer of the people who are once again posting stupid cat photos.
But William’s death has brought another group back into the spotlight. They’ve always been there, but now I see more posts from them. Be it algorithms or just more frequent posts, this group of people seem to be both asking for and denying attention.

Have you ever seen as post like “well, that was interesting” with no further explanation? Then everyone starts asking what happened, generating comment after comment that eventually leads to the original poster telling the story. That’s vaguebooking.

I had to clean out my friends list not too long ago because a significant number of people were posting “‘I’m done with this life” statuses. These people would post a few days before about how hard life is right now. And about 48 hours later state they’re done. What the heck! And then people start saying call me anytime! I’m here for you! And the poster doesn’t reply, leaving everyone hanging until 48 hours later they post again like nothing ever happened.

These are very different from the “I’m having a bad day” statuses. A bad day status is meant to just ask for a few hugs and kind thoughts. These statuses usually say what’s happening and people respond. Venting is not the same as vaguebooking. You just want to share over a virtual cup of coffee. I get that.

Now back to Mr. Williams and raising awareness about the struggles that accompany mental illness. They are real. Sometimes the demons win. Sometimes you fight with everything you’ve got and they still win. But, you go down fighting. You don’t just casually toss out there that “you’re done” to see what happens. Every person I know who lives with mental illness would tell you they fight every day, even if it’s just to get up and brush their teeth.

If you want to vaguebook, go ahead. Just understand it’s like crying wolf and eventually no one will respond. If you are indeed asking for help, then use the virtual coffeehouse to jump-start your next fight. Because the fight is never over and we all need all the help we can get.

 

Home

I married a military guy when I was 22. Up until that point in my life, I lived in the same town I was born in. Not a small “town” by any measure. Today that “town” ranks as the 6th largest city in the United States. But, it is still home.

I left my town 5 days after I married. The destination…a much smaller location tucked away on the western edge of Texas. I didn’t know anyone. The landscape was unfamiliar. Military life was very different that what I grew up with. I had my husband and we forged our “honeymoon home” out of what at first appeared to be nothing. I’m still in touch with people I met during the 22 months I lived there.

Next up came the East Coast years. My entire family lives west of the Mississippi. My three kids were born on the East coast. My mom came out to help, but I ended up making friends who shared the ups and downs of early motherhood. We carried each other through crying babies, MOPS and deployments. These sisters came into my life out of necessity, but they remain because of the village we built together 20 years ago.

We ended up back in my home state. The first few years, I traveled the three hours to my parent’s house on a regular basis. I was home again. Yes, I made friends. But I had one foot on base and the other 3 hours north. Then, my parents moved to another state. I found myself making friends, getting involved in the community and pursuing new activities. As our time in the military wrapped up, I dreaded leaving my new home. But we did.

I now live in Colorado. Not a big secret since it’s in my bio listed here. I struggled at first being new to the area. I started out volunteering at my kid’s school. After meeting some people, I started a book club. I became involved in Girl and Boy Scouts through my kids. For 10 years, my house was constantly overflowing with kids. They just carried me along from one activity to another.

I now find myself an empty nester. With time to reflect on life…especially when a younger friend comments about life. There is a lot of truth in the saying “Home is where the heart is.” Home is what you make of it. Army installations are not known for being in the most attractive locations, yet I found a way to carve out a life with a bunch of strangers who became friends. And as my life has gone through its stages, I’ve found a way to be part of my community and enjoy what is offered. It’s part of letting go and moving on.

My advice to my younger self would be to not spend time looking for the less attractive aspects of a location and more time looking for the people who can show me opportunities to make a home out of what at first glance seems to be the most inhospitable location. Work with it. You may have only live somewhere for a few months or maybe a few years, but it’s your choice how “homey” you make it.

The Secret

Get your facts first, then you can distort them as you please.~ Mark Twain

 

 

 

 

Hey, you! Yes you at the keyboard. Want to know a secret? You can actually CHOOSE what stories you want to believe. You are not obligated to think that every “news” story is fact based. That every article you read is 100% accurate. That every status you read on social media is the all-out truth.

That’s some amazing power you have right there. You can respond by attacking someone or you can just let it slide by. You can start a counter-argument or add words of support. Fascinating, isn’t it?

Just be prepared that not everyone is going to agree with you. There are drama llamas out there that will stir the pot just to see how long it takes before it boils over. And there will be people who feel iron clad in their beliefs. You get to decide what to do. Yes, YOU. Jump in with feet first…or head first if you’re feeling that way. I advise against heart first because that’s the surest way to get pounded in the first place.

Several years ago, a former social media friend told me “You can’t fix stupid.” I have that phrase taped to a mirror next to my keyboard. Because you know what? Sometimes I’m the stupid that can’t be fixed.

 

Ponder This

A word to the wise ain’t necessary – it’s the stupid ones that need the advice.~ Bill Cosby

 

The trouble with having an open mind, of course, is that people will insist on coming along and trying to put things in it.~Terry Pratchett

 

If two wrongs don’t make a right, try three.~ Laurence J. Peter

 

By all means let’s be open-minded, but not so open-minded that our brains drop out.~Richard Dawkins

 

My definition of an intellectual is someone who can listen to the William Tell Overture without thinking of the Lone Ranger.~Billy Connolly

 

I would never die for my beliefs because I might be wrong.~Bertrand Russell

 

Cure for an obsession: get another one.~Mason Cooley

“14 Things I Hate About Being Autistic”

http://suburbanautistics.blogspot.com.au/2014/07/14-things-i-hate-about-being-autistic.html?m=1

My Favorite:

6: It is usually assumed that I have “conquered” or “defeated” autism, and that anything I have achieved is in spite of autism. A phrase I hear a lot is “I would never have known that you were autistic”, as though autism is this hugely negative and obvious thing that a non-expert would be able to pick in a second. (Or, as though society is made up entirely of autism experts). This is well-intentioned but problematic because it carries the underlying assumption that if I have done something considered as “successful”, then this must have been despite my autism. In reality, autism is a part of everything that I do. Autism is not an enemy that needs to be defeated. My autism hasn’t been “overcome”. This issue is also symptomatic of the wider ignorance as to how autism presents – in reality, most of us would not be able to pick an autistic person out of a crowd.