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The Autistic Spectrum



IMPORTANT NOTE:
 
Permission to duplicate or distribute these documents is granted (unless otherwise stated) with the provision that the document(s) remain intact with reference to all authors.

This beautiful piece was written by Abby, a wonderul person, super Mom and dedicated Advocate for her sons and Autism.
 
"My Holiday Gratitude List"
 
I am very grateful God convinced me to be a parent.
I have learned about differences in people.
I learned to walk through my fears.
I have learned to be tolerant.
I have learned to read things I could not read.
I have learned to hear things I could not hear.
I have learned to love things I could not love.
I have learned to not say things I should not say.
I have learned to say what needs to be said.
I have learned that it is OK to make mistakes and to pick myself up and dust myself off and start all over again.
I have made friends all across the globe.
I have made friends that have fought many of the same battles, not just the Autism of my older son.
I have learned all there is to know about Dinosaurs and Computers and Trucks and Lego and Reading and Music, very strange Music.
I was dyslexic and my children made me read on.
I was timid and I learned to be strong.
I have battled cancer for 11 years and because of learning to fight for my children I know where and how to fight for me.
They taught me love, patience, attitude, grace, power, fortitude, perseverance and much more.
I love my sons and all that they have given me.
Thank you God.
©Abby Irwin, East End Chairperson
Advocates For Individuals w/ High Functioning Autism, Asperger's Syndrome and Other Pervasive Developmental Differentabilities
Phone/Fax 631-283-3293  ~
airwin@optonline.net
www.aha-as-pdd.org
 
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
 
Abby lost her long fight with cancer this morning - Thursday, April 29, 2004. She lived way beyond the years that anyone in the medical profession thought were possible after her diagnosis of cancer at age 35 - 12 or so years ago. She had more than three recurrences but defied medical science, chemotherapy, radiation, wheelchairs, hair loss and who knows what else. Abby had work to do. She had Jon and Max - her terrific boys. Jon was diagnosed with Asperger Syndrome. And we all know how motivated she was. Often described in terms such as the "ever ready battery" or "a dog with a bone" .....she got one or the other of us to help with some project or other along the way - even once going to an expert from across the sea for advice. If it was for her child or ANY child and it needed getting done she had no shame. She started support on the East End of Long Island and continued traveling to conferences and doing her work during good times and bad. She taught us all so many lessons and left her mark on this world BIG TIME! We will miss her and remember her always.
 
Pat Schissel
and the AHA/AS/PDD Board
Advocates for Individuals with High Functioning Autism,Asperger's Syndrome and other Pervasive Developmental Disorders
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
 
The articles that follow are written by Frank Klein, an adult with Autism.  His writings are remarkable and unbelievably helpful for anyone wanting to know more about Autism.  You can find more at his website which is:
 
 
Introduction for Parents of Autistic/AS Kids
© Frank Klein
 
So your child was just diagnosed with autism or AS... now what?  The purpose of this web site is to give an "inside" view of autism, in its various forms, and to let people that may not otherwise know that autism (including AS) is not a horrible tragedy.  I've seen the same books, articles, and web sites you probably have; the ones that portray being on the autism spectrum as being tantamount to the end of life as we know it.  I've seen the stuff that seems to indicate that if you just try the right therapy, the right program, the right nutritional supplement, the "problem" will be solved.  Everything out there seems to fairly scream that the person with AS or autism is damaged, and must be repaired post haste.  I am here to tell you that this is wrong.  Let me explore the differences between the autistic mind and the normal mind a bit here.
 
The depth of the difference in how the normal mind works and how the autistic mind works is profound, and it may surprise you.  I hope that by illustrating that, hopefully you will be able to see that "fixing" the autistic is not a reasonable goal.
 
Normal people (which we in the autism community call "NT," for neurologically typical or neurotypical) are social beings, like dogs.  Dogs innately behave as part of a collective; they are pack animals.  In the wild, the "top dog" is the alpha male of the wolf pack; domestically, the top dog is the human master.  A pet dog delights in performing tricks for his master, even if praise is the only reward.  A dog can be trained to NOT eat a tasty morsel just because his master says not to, even if that dog is hungry.  The dog's innate need to conform to the collective needs of the pack (as defined by the "top dog") is so strong that it can overrule his own hunger.  Although the dog has free will (please, no email about sentience, self-awareness, or whether free will really exists; I am not talking philosophy here), his predisposition to be a pack animal makes him automatically desire the same things that the pack wants.  This ensures cohesion of the group.  If each dog (or wolf) was off pursuing his own interests with no regard to the pack's needs, the pack would cease to exist.  As such, social beings like dogs are not really able to distinguish what needs are their own and what needs are those of the collective.  Such is the nature of the social animal.
 
An autistic person is more like a cat.  Cats are independent, solitary creatures; their own needs are their only motive.  You would be hard pressed to train a cat not to eat (for no other reason than you say so) when he is hungry.   The only way to do that would be to convince the cat that he would be negatively impacted if he ate the food... in which case, he would still be acting in his own interest (not wanting to be punished), not in the interest of the owner.  A cat has no innate desire to please anyone but himself.  A cat does not care if other cats wish to do a certain thing; he does what he wants to do, and that is that.  A cat has no concept of the needs of other cats; even if he did, though, they would not concern him.  Cats are inwardly motivated, not externally motivated.
 
To the parents of an autistic child, it can be horrifying to think that that child will not automatically defer to the needs of the collective, which in this case is society.  As a member of that society, the parent will obviously desire for the child to fit in as well.  It is tempting to push that child to fit in, and to act like all of the normal people.  Although the child may look enough like you to make you think that he really is pretty much the same as you, the fact is that in his head, he thinks nothing like you do.  On the outside, autism and AS seem like behavioral abnormalities; bad habits that need to be broken.  If you got to be on the inside for a minute, though, you would realize that this is not the case at all.
 
The autistic person is as different from the NT person as a cat is from a dog.  While you, as a social being, are able to seamlessly blend into a group, the autistic person has no concept of what it means to be a part of a group.  He may not even realize that these other people are other living beings like him.  They may appear to be moving pieces of the landscape, no more important or similar to him than a tree or a rock.  In time, he will begin to understand, but the social connectedness, the ability to truly feel like a part of it all, will never be there.  He may learn to relate to others relatively well, and maybe to be social at times.  Even so, he will always be in a group only of one... himself.  That is simply the nature of the independent being that he is.
 
There is nothing wrong with being a cat.  In a world of dogs, though, it seems abnormal and pathological.  To beings that prize their ability to be a part of a collective, a condition that would cause a person to be disconnected from that collective would seem like a horrible tragedy.  To the person that is so affected, it's just the way he is.  Far too many parents harbor the illusion that their children can be taught to be normal.  Autism is a neurological disorder; it relates to the unusual structuring of the brain, most likely occurring during pregnancy (and not as a result of vaccination).  No training or diet or drug is going to change the structure of the brain.  Sure, autistics can be taught to act normal, but it is, indeed, just an act.  No matter what the behavior, the ability to feel a part of the collective will just not be there.
 
Normal people's actions in social situations are governed, in large part, by their feelings of connection to the group.  An autistic person has no such connection, and that is why the social behaviors must be learned by rote.  Without that connection, relating to others as if he were connected is just an act, and like all acts, it is learned in a rote fashion, from a script.  Mastery of that script does not make him normal or recovered, any more than mastery of the M.A.S.H. script made Alan Alda an army surgeon.   It's pretend; make-believe; not real.
The depth of the lack of connection is greater than a simple inability to conceptualize himself as being one of the group.  Many of the innate social behaviors and nonverbal communication methods are absent as well.  Not only does the autistic person find it impossible to truly see himself as part of a group, but he also lacks the ability to use eye contact, body posture (stance), gesture, and other such things to communicate with others.  He lacks the ability to conceptualize the "unwritten rules" of conduct that govern action within society, but are never spoken overtly.  Normal people may never realize how important these things can be in ordinary relations with other people, since they are processed subconsciously.  Their importance is only really noted when the NT communicates with a person that does not have these social functions enabled.  In many cases, such interactions end in disaster, with the autistic person normally on the losing end of the exchange.
 
The ability to presuppose what a normal person may already know, as well as the ability to guess how an NT will be affected by various statements, are abilities built-into the NT person.  Once again, these are social functions that allow the NT to be the pack animal that he is.  Like the other social abilities, the autistic person lacks these.  The ability to empathize with others is predicated upon the ability to read the nonverbal cues, which teach the NT person early in life that others often have different opinions and moods than he does.  Without the ability to read those signs, the autistic person may never fully realize that.  Higher-functioning autistics and those with AS will recognize this difference in opinion and mood, but it will be cognitively mediated, not intuitive.  Normal people don't have to analyze someone to know what his mood or state-of-mind may be during conversation.  It is automatic; they get a feeling for it without even trying.  Higher-functioning autistics (including those with AS) can often do a remarkable job of figuring out what normal people may be thinking, but it is something that requires a lot of effort and thought.  It does not come naturally.
 
In the higher-functioning autistics, including those with AS, this cognitive substitute for intuitive NT behaviors is normal, and it is fairly effective.  Some teachers, therapists, trainers, et al, want to teach social skills to autistics.  While this may be difficult at first, they say, soon the social skills will become ingrained, and the autistic person will do them automatically.  What those well-meaning but misguided folks have missed is that the foundation for the social skills (the ability to read the nonverbal cues) is not present-- nor will it ever be.  Even if you teach the autistic person how to read these signals by rote, it will be something he has to think quite hard about, and while he is attempting to process these signals, he will not be able to concentrate on what the other person is saying.
 
Normal people have two channels for conversation: the cognitive channel, which processes speech, and the nonverbal channel, which processes the nonverbal cues (eye contact, facial expression, body posture, gestures) that many say make up more than half of the communication in a typical conversation.  In autistics, the nonverbal channel is not present.  So, while you can teach the autistic to try to make eye contact, you cannot teach him to properly modulate that eye contact in a communicative way, as NTs do automatically.  He will neither be able to read the other person's eye signals, nor will he be able to make any eye signals of his own.  That is why attempts at eye contact by autistics come off as stares.  In time, autistic children that are badgered to make eye contact learn to fake it in one way or another... by looking at the ear, the nose, or by looking "through" the person.  You may think the child is making eye contact, and is thus improving, but that is not the case at all.  As one that has been looking "through" people for decades, I know what I am talking about here.
 
NTs seem to be rather obsessed with getting their autistic children to make eye contact.  In doing so, they completely ignore that the autistic lacks the ability to make use of that eye contact.  The assumption seems to be that the ability to use eye contact is there, if the autistic person could only be trained to make eye contact.  The same assumption is made with regard to the other nonverbal cues.  It's good to teach the autistic child that these signals exist, but it must always be kept in mind that the autistic person will never be able to process them automatically, as NTs do.  Don't waste precious time in the early years trying to teach and ingrain social skills that the autistic child has no ability to use.  That time would be best spent rectifying sensory difficulties and getting the verbal processing parts of the brain working.  Worry about faking eye contact and other things like that later.  The 0-6 years are too critical to waste on such nonsense.
 
The autistic brain and the normal brain work very differently.  Despite the normal physical appearance of the autistic child, there is no normal child in there, waiting to be set free from his autism.  Sometimes an autistic child will seem to act normally for a while, and for that time you may think that he is "getting better."  Don't fall for that... if you do, it will only be that much more disappointing when you see the autistic behavior return.  The autism goes straight through to the core.  Autism is like being of a different species; like a cat rather than a dog.  No matter what you do, that brain in that skull will be an autistic brain, thinking autistic thoughts.  You can train an autistic person to act normally, but don't mistake that for "recovery."  Autism is not a mental illness or a disease.  It is a different state of being; like being a different species.  If I train my cat to act like a dog, he will be a trained cat, not a dog.
 
There is no recovery from autism.  That does not mean that huge improvements in function are not possible; they are, and if there is one thing I have learned about autism, it is that the best predictor of poor outcome is low expectations.  I am not saying that you should not act to help your autistic child be the best he can be... I only want to let you know that the goal should be to make that person as successful an AUTISTIC person he can be, and not to help him "recover."  Despite what many parents are going to tell you, despite what many of the "experts" that may themselves be selling an autism treatment program are going to tell you, the fact of the matter is (and it is a fact) that autism is permanent.
 
Now that I have told you what autism is, let me tell you what it is not.
 
Autism is not the inability to communicate.  I am autistic, and I am communicating with you right now, am I not?  Not all autistics can talk; not all that can wish to do so very much.   That can be helped, though, and the earlier you start, the better.  Autism cannot be cured, but that does not mean that communication difficulties cannot be.   The autistic child will grow into an autistic adult, but that does NOT mean that the adult he becomes must be nonverbal or uncommunicative.  Being autistic is not the same as being uncommunicative.
 
Autism is not sensory difficulties.   All, or nearly all, autistic people have these to one degree or another.  They can range from oversensitivity to touch or sound (which are both quite common in aspies and very high-functioning autistics) to a complete garbling of sounds and images from the ears and eyes.  Sometimes they cycle between good and bad.  A child with severe sensory difficulties may be totally unresponsive to you and to the world in general.  You may mistake that for the child being "in his own little world," or "lost in his autism," or some equally trite phrase.  Don't make that mistake.  Sensory dysfunction is not autism.  If you can get the senses to work more effectively, the child will begin to connect with the world on his own.  When I say that autism is permanent, I am NOT saying that the child that seems lost in space will never be any better.  Sensory problems can, and should, be addressed, and again, the earlier, the better.  If there is one area of autism where the "locked in a shell" analogy was true, it is in the area of sensory dysfunction.  This is probably the single most important area to remediate in kids with these problems.
 
Autism is not violent behavior.  Many autistic children (and some adults that have not had effective help) may be abusive to themselves or to others.  This is often a result of horrible anxiety, anger, and frustration that build up when the autistic person is not able to communicate his needs effectively.  The child may be communicating the best he can, but because you may be looking only for more "normal" communications, you may miss them.  This is horribly frustrating to the autistic, who is very aware that he cannot get through to you no matter how hard he tries.  Your ways of thinking and communicating are as strange to him as his are to you, but he lacks your years of experience.  An autistic child may seem totally strange and even inhuman at times, but realize that he does have feelings and thoughts and fears and needs, and that he needs those needs to be met just like any other child.  You have to make the extra effort to understand him, because he cannot do any better than what he is.  Violent, angry behavior is not a given in autistics of any age.  It is a sign that some needs are going unmet.
 
Anxiety and fear are big factors in the life of any autistic person; children are certainly not exempt from that.  The worse the anxiety in the autistic child's life, the more he will tend to overreact to change in routine, things that seem to be "wrong" (like an open drawer or something like that), et cetera.  Remember that your autistic child is like a fish out of water; nothing in the world makes sense to him, even to the extent that it does to normal children.  The world can be a very scary place to an autistic child.  Do what you can to allay that fear and anxiety, and you will probably notice that the "problem" behaviors seem to be less intense and frequent as you do so.  If you see them merely as "bad" behaviors, and you try to suppress them with disciplinary measures, you will often be worsening the anxiety and frustration that caused those behaviors in the first place.  Autistic children sometimes misbehave, like any children, and they need to have limits set... but you have to be aware that not all "bad" behavior is as it appears.  It can be nearly impossible to know the difference, but you have to try.
 
I am convinced that a big part of my relatively meltdown-free, nonviolent childhood was my mother's complete acceptance of me as I was, with no efforts to turn me into something else.  My 'stim' behaviors, like pacing, rocking, flapping, making silly noises, et cetera, were coping mechanisms, as they are in all autistic children.  If my mother had forced me to suppress these behaviors, the stress would have built up until it finally reached the meltdown stage much more often.  These behaviors are perfectly normal for autistics; don't think of them as undesirable because they are abnormal for your neurology.  They are not abnormal for your child's neurology; in fact, they are vital stress-releasers.  If you want to reduce the stimming, find out what causes stress in the child's life, and reduce that.  It works.  I can't overemphasize the importance of reducing stress.  Your child will feel better, behave better, learn better, and be happier and more likely to be social or show affection if you can reduce the stress to a manageable level.  And keep in mind that things that you would not care about can cause more stress for your child than you imagine.  It's not about what your child "should" be able to tolerate; it is about what he can tolerate.  If silly things cause stress for him, fix them anyway.  The child can learn to cope with those things later.
 
Autism is not mental retardation.  That's a really scary sounding pair of words, isn't it?  I am sure that you are aware by now that 75% of de facto autistics (in other words, not counting people with AS) are low-functioning, or mentally retarded.  That leaves one in four that is not.  Even though most autistics are retarded as such, it's not the autism per se that makes them so... it's the sensory problems early in life, which I mentioned above.  The sensory dysfunction prevents the brain from getting the stimulation it needs during the critical developmental years.  Without that, the brain develops in a manner consistent with what we call mental retardation.  The good news is that if you can get the senses integrated as early as possible in life, the brain will get what it needs, and the child will develop as high-functioning.  Sensory integration is the single most important factor in deciding how an autistic child will develop.  Make the most of those early developmental years!
 
Autism is not your fault.  There is nothing to be guilty about if you have an autistic child.  The theories of autism being caused by bad parenting have been absolutely, unequivocally proven to be 100% bunk.  It is a biological thing, and it is not something you did wrong.  There is no shame in having an autistic kid.  Please don't let your child get the impression that he is something to be ashamed of.
 
Autism is not a tragedy.  It is a difference.  The autistic way of thinking is no less valid than the NT way.  Different is not bad, or wrong.  It is just different.  It is true that other kids may be harsh and unaccepting of those that are different, but whose failing is that?  The lack of acceptance of those that are different is a function of the pack animal mind.  Autistics do not intrinsically dislike people from different cultures, races, religions, or whatever.  NTs innately see those that are like them as members of their "pack," and those that differ from them as members of a rival "pack," or as potential enemies.  It takes a lot of effort to combat prejudice in NT minds.  That is not so in autistics.  They are relatively unconcerned about others, so whether they be black, white, Asian, et cetera, makes no difference.  The lack of the "pack" identity prevents the autistic person from seeing himself as part of a certain group, and it prevents him from grouping people that he is not like.  To an autistic person, people are individuals, not members of a group.  In this way, you can see that it really is the NTs that are impaired in this area, not autistics.
 
There are several articles on this site highlighting some of the good things about being on the autistic spectrum.  There are a few more that go more into detail as far as some of the "fix your autistic" programs go, and why you should not try to do so.  There is a purity you will find in autistics... a beautiful quality that you will not find in NTs (at least not for long).  If you quit looking at them as broken normal people, and start seeing them for the neat whole people that they are, you will begin to see them as I do from my perspective.  Throw away your preconceived notions of what your child would have/should have/will/won't be, and embrace the child as he is.  I know it is hard to do, but for your child's sake, you must.  Accept the autism/AS, but don't listen to those that tell you the child is hopeless, or that he will never be able to take care of himself.  Low expectations cause low results.  Don't expect the unreasonable (like for the autism/AS to go away), but don't go to the other extreme either.  Push to make your autistic child the best, most successful autistic he can be, and you may just be surprised by the results.
 

What is Asperger's Syndrome?
© Frank Klein

Note:  This article was written when this web site was entitled "Aspie Advocacy."  When I realized that I am more properly HFA (high-functioning autistic) than  aspie, despite my many similarities to aspies, I decided that a bifurcated view of AS and autism did not make sense.  Thus, I changed the name of the site, as well as the editorial "slant," to reflect the unified nature of the spectrum as a whole.  That is why I recently changed the title in the link to this article.  However, for the moment, I am leaving the article as it was written originally.  Keep in mind that when I say "aspie" in this article, I refer to all people on the higher-functioning end of the spectrum, regardless of which diagnosis they may have.
 
Asperger's syndrome is a form of autism.  Autism, in all of its forms, is what is called a pervasive developmental disorder.  In essence, it is a slight difference in the construction of the brain, probably present since birth, that affects the way the child develops.  It's not a mental condition... it is a neurological difference.  Although the terms that describe it (syndrome, disorder, et cetera) have onerous connotations, it's more accurate to simply say that so affected individuals are different.
 
Most of the differences relate to the way that aspies (a term that people with Asperger's Syndrome use to describe themselves) communicate with others.  They tend to have a rather straightforward style, and that has several implications.  First, the roundabout way in which normal (neurologically typical, or NT) people communicate is replaced with a rather blunt, sometimes apparently tactless approach.  Aspies say what they are thinking, and there is no such thing as beating around the bush.  They don't "say things without saying them," or lace their words with innuendo or hidden meaning.  There's no subtext... what is said is what is meant, and it is that simple.  NTs often have a hard time figuring out what an aspie means, simply because he (the NT) is not accustomed to interpreting the words completely at face value. They often refuse to believe that there is no hidden meaning, or that the comments they interpret as rude or harsh are actually meant to be helpful.   This can cause hard feelings and misunderstandings, and unfortunately the aspie is usually on the losing end of the exchange.
 
Aspies communicate and interpret language literally.  That's not to say that they do not make use of metaphor or simile; in fact, many of them show rather advanced use of such concepts.  However, the basic mode is to use words in a very unambiguous and precise way.  Precision and clarity (and often verbosity) are the hallmarks of typical aspie speech and prose.  Aspies typically use a formal manner in everyday communications, written or spoken.  While odd to NTs, this is an outgrowth of the aspie preoccupation with precision and accuracy in the use of language.
 
As children, aspies lack the inborn "detective skills" to automatically determine and integrate the "unwritten rules" of personal conduct and body language (often including facial expressions).  Parents do not have to actively teach their children to recognize these nonverbal cues, because the children have a built-in ability to learn them, and to incorporate them appropriately into their own code of conduct.  Aspies never pick up on these things, so as adults, they still do not have the ability to recognize these nonverbal signals.  Of course, this can cause confusion when NTs and aspies communicate.  The NT may send signals that he is not interested in a particular topic, or that he has tired of talking to the other person completely.  The aspie will miss these signals, and the NT typically grows more and more angry as his signals, from his perspective (and at an unconscious level), are ignored.
The aspie, whether a child or an adult, is not usually interested in the social hierarchy of the group.  Popularity, "coolness," jealousy, image, office politics... all of these are things that do not concern aspies.  Unfortunately, this often means that they end up at the bottom of the hierarchy.  In school, aspie kids are often picked on by all of the other kids, who seek to improve their own prestige by abusing others.  That need to improve one's image, even if by making others look bad, is not something that aspies can really comprehend.  They just do what they want to do, without any worry about whether something is "cool" or not.
 
Many of the medical texts suggest that people with AS prefer to be alone. That's not really accurate, though.  While most aspies will need to have some "alone" time each day, they don't usually want to remain solitary all of the time.  Most aspies do want to be social and to interact with others, but they often have long histories of disastrous results with regard to interpersonal communications, for the reasons described above.  It is not so hard to see why many aspies shy away from others.
 
Aspies tend to be well above average in intelligence, and language skills far in excess of the norm for the age group are common.  Aspie children often read and write several grade levels higher than their like-aged peers.  Aspies of all ages often have unusually expansive working vocabularies, and it is often said that aspie kids talk like adults.
 
One of the most interesting aspects of the aspie personality is the "perseveration," or the special interest.  Aspies tend to be rather deeply engrossed in one specific topic, and that one area of interest dominates the mind and free time.  This is not to say that they cannot think of anything else, but they show a sense of zeal and enthusiasm for the special interest that most NTs will never experience.  The topics of interest can be quite common, like computers or car repair, or they can be rather bizarre.  Anything from dinosaurs to fleas to mimeograph machines can be the focus.  The person will typically seek to gather and absorb as much information on the special interest as he can find... from libraries, the internet, experts in the field, and through direct experience where possible.  Sometimes the special interest persists for years; in other cases, it may only last for a few weeks, at which time a new interest will take over.
 
Aspies tend to be very responsive to stimulus.  Loud noises, bright lights, powerful odors, or unexpected touch can overload an aspie's mind.  Loud noises of short duration produce an effect in the mind that resembles that of scratching a chalkboard.  Certain persistent noises, especially loud or "busy" ones (like multiple voices), can be very tiring and stressful.  Visually busy or bright environments can have a similar effect.  Aspies tend to prefer quiet environments with subdued lighting.  Many of them carry earplugs and sunglasses to help them deal with unexpected sensory overloads.
 
The aspie mind by nature abhors inaccuracy and imprecision, and dishonesty and deception do not come naturally.  Aspies are by nature loyal, accepting of difference, and have a talent for being able to accurately assess themselves and others.  Their unique position outside of the norm allows them to see things as few can.
 
By nature, people with AS are innovators; their inability to recognize the unwritten rules means that they live in a world largely without preset limits... so ideas and concepts that may never have existed without such a perspective are born.  People like Ludwig von Beethoven, Thomas Jefferson, Albert Einstein, and Bill Gates were (or are) probably aspies.  Arrogant, eccentric, strange, intelligent, perceptive, genius.  They're all words that have been used to describe the people above, as well as many or most known aspies.
 
Medical texts tend to describe AS in terms of impairment, disability, and the problems it causes.  They're all written from the perspective that normal is good and unusual is bad; that all deviations from the usual are signs of dysfunction and must eventually be cured.  They fail to see the beauty of AS, and of being different.  Many aspies, including the author of this article, like their AS... it is more than just a condition in a medical book.  It's a part of who they are, and what thy are.  As this article's author says, "I would not be 'me' if the AS were not there.  I really do see it as a thing of beauty."
 

Thanks, Mom: What My Mother Did Right
© Frank Klein
 
I would like to take this opportunity to express my thankfulness to my mother, who did not seek intervention for my autistic traits.  At the time I was a toddler, which was in the early to mid 1970s, autism was not thought of as a spectrum disorder.  It was synonymous, for the most part, with what we now call "low-functioning" autism.  Certainly I did not present as low-functioning, so I never would have been flagged as having been autistic.  The condition we now call high-functioning autism did not gain any real notoriety in the English-speaking world  until after the publication of Lorna Wing's 1987 review of Hans Asperger's work.  The debate as to whether Kanner's autism and Asperger's autistic psychopathy, which Wing dubbed "Asperger's Syndrome," were completely separate or related conditions led directly to the concept of the "autistic spectrum," which is now considered to be factual by most.  As far as de facto autistics go, I am very much on the "mild" end of the spectrum.  Still, as a child, my behaviors were pretty obviously autistic.
 
I do not blame my mother a bit for not making the connection between my unusual childhood behaviors and autism.  Even most doctors at that time knew little, if anything, about autism, so I would not expect a young, first-time mother to know what her physicians probably did not.  She knew from the beginning that I was unusual, but as long as I seemed to be thriving, she was not too worried.  As I learned more about my first three years, as a result of pestilent questioning, I realized that my first signs of autism went right to my date of birth.  I could not suck from a nipple (of any kind) and coordinate the swallowing movement.  I lost nearly a pound of my premature six pound weight before this was remediated.  At one month of age, which would have been my due date, I learned to suck and swallow.  Still, though, things were not normal.
 
I learned to turn over early, but it was not a graceful movement so much as a flopping over by flapping my spindly limbs.  Soon I lost that ability and did not regain it until much later.  Babbling was limited, and other than fits of screaming for unknown reasons, I was a quiet baby.  I did respond to tickling and such things with a smile, though, and no one ever thought I was deaf.  If anything, my hearing was hypersensitive, and I noticed every little noise, even if others initially didn't. 
 
Before my first birthday, I began to resist being picked up, and I did not like to be held.  I never crawled; I rolled, right up until I began to walk in the fourteenth month.  I still hadn't uttered any words.  I continued to make noises and verbal stims, but no words, until about the twenty-fourth month, at which time I began to speak... in sentences.  Many of them were echolalic, including instant and delayed parroting of TV commercials.  As my ability to express myself grew, I began to do the pronoun reversals, and to call myself by my first name instead of "I."  At about that time, I was first introduced to children my age.  I ignored them totally, as if they were not there.  I could be "in a room full of kids and still be totally alone," my mother tells me.  I would also spin any object I could get my hands on, sometimes causing frustration in adults.
 
Through all of this, there were no worried visits to the doctor, or fears that I was some genetic freak.  When I was about thirty months old, my mother enrolled me in Montessori preschool to try to get me to be a little more social.  The curriculum did not stress group achievement much, but at least I would be exposed to other kids, my mother thought.  I did pretty well there, aside from screaming fits when I was first dropped off.
 
Years later, I began at the local public elementary school, and I began to experience shutdowns in class.  The special-ed teacher somehow knew what to do, and would come and get me and give me short breaks from class.  That problem was solved, as far as everyone was concerned.  It was in about the first grade that I made my first real social overtures toward other kids without prompting.
 
At home, I did the toe-walking all the time, and I did all sorts of stim behaviors like hand flapping.  I still preferred to be alone.  I would get obsessed with certain subjects, and I would want to talk about nothing else.  I never did that with my peers; I still had little interest in them.  Adults, though, would often listen to my precocious lectures, probably very amused by them.  I struck everyone as an amazingly bright little boy, and I suppose that I was.  That goes a long way in having people excuse your bizarre behavior, at least in the early years.  My status as a "gifted" child seemed to be a handy explanation for all of my strange behaviors, including my notable hyperactivity.  Certainly, no one thought that there was anything "wrong;" if anything, something was very right about me.   Had I not been hyperlexic, I am sure that my autistic behaviors would have been much more objectionable.  Fortunately for all involved, I was not self-destructive, and my angry impulses, while obviously present, were well-controlled.  I suspect that my mother's acceptance of my unusual behaviors may have been a significant cause of my nonviolent character.  If she had tried to change me, I may not have exhibited such control.
 
My mother never pushed me to be social when I did not wish to be, and I am glad she didn't.  Some autistic children (aspies especially) want to have friends, but do not know how to make them.  These children should be helped to make friends, but never should the issue be forced.  Some children, like me, did not really care about their peers at all, and these children should not be forced to socialize against their will.  In time, most will begin to desire social contact in their own way, and forced social interaction will not make that happen any sooner.  In fact, it may feel so unpleasant to the child that he associates unpleasant feelings with social contact, and he will be more asocial in the future. Parents often think it is "so sad" to see the little boy or girl playing alone in the corner of the yard, but it is not sad at all if the child is happy that way.  I have always preferred solitude, and I am most happy when I am alone.  Even now, as an adult, people think it is "so sad" that I spend so much time in my apartment alone.  I do it by choice; it is not sad... it is just different.
 
Similarly, I was never forced to make eye contact or to stop stimming (which my mother called 'fidgeting').  My mother gently suggested that I might want to stop hand-flapping, so that my peers would not give me a hard time, but never made an issue of it.  She never tried to get me to stop rocking; in fact, at one point she bought a rocking chair.  These stims are harmless behaviors that help an autistic child release stress and get back in tune with the world.  The autistic child's experience is a bewildering one, full of motions, lights, noises, and odors, and the sensory input sometimes gets to be way too much for the child.  At these times, an autistic person may stim, pace, or seek a quiet place with no one around.  This is a necessary thing for any autistic person, children included, and by no means should a child be deprived of his outlets to release stress.  Normal people have no idea how stressful it is to be autistic.  Things that you do not notice may cause more stress for your child than an unfinished 1040 on April 14th does for you.  Never underestimate the stress your child experiences in noisy, bright,  crowded, or social environments.  It can be brutal, and the tantrums that may result are beyond your child's control.  This is what autistics often call a meltdown, which happens when you have ignored the signs of stress too long.  They are there if you look for them: increased covering of the ears or eyes, increased stimming, increased restlessness or hyperactivity, complaints of upset stomach, increase in that glazed-eye, "million mile away" look... the signs of impending overload or meltdown are numerous, and each child will have his own set.  Be aware of them, and do not underestimate them.
 
In retrospect, my early childhood was quite unusual, but I was accepted for the odd child I was.  In my case, that was the best thing for me; I am firmly convinced of that.  I began to realize I was different in about the third grade, but it never bothered me.  I was never given the impression that unusual was bad, or that I had a problem.  No matter how well-intentioned a parent may be, taking a child to a doctor to see why he is so "weird" tends to implant the idea that there is something wrong, something "bad" about the child.  I never knew why I was taken to the special ed classroom to play on the balance beam, but I knew that I was being singled out, and even though it apparently did me some good, I did not like it, and I wondered what was wrong with me.  Imagine how much worse it would have been if I had been taken by my mother, whom I trusted more than anyone, rather than a teacher.  Imagine if I had to stand there listening to her tell a doctor about how weird and unacceptable I was (which is the message the child gets).  Imagine how much more "weird" I would have felt if I was taken to special classes, or gone to a special school.  I am not saying that such things should never be done; on the contrary, in some cases, such things are vital.  All I request is that you be aware of the effect these things have on self-esteem.  Please, don't discuss your child's behavior with the doctor while the child is listening!
 
As it turned out, at least in terms of academics, special education was not necessary for me, as it is not for a lot of aspies, and a few high-functioning autistics like me.  Sometimes parents overreact and put their kids in all sorts of programs just because those programs are there, though.  They listen to the doctors make wild guesses about prognosis (and that is all they are-- wild guesses), and they panic about their children's future.  Don't panic!  This has to be approached rationally and logically.  If the child cannot function in normal classes, then alternate plans must be made, but don't make use of resources that are not needed just because you can.  Doing so can easily prove to be far more destructive than helpful.  An autistic child's self-esteem is going to take a beating in the years to come, no question about that, so it is imperative that things that will hurt that self-image be avoided if at all possible.  Only a very strong self-image will be adequate protection from the self-esteem clobbering that is to come.  You must daily work to build that self-esteem.
 
Depression is an ever-present menace in the autistic community, and this must never be forgotten for an instant.  Even if the child does require special education, be sure that he never gets the idea that he is broken or defective.  This means going to what you may consider to be ridiculous extremes to prevent this idea from forming in the child's mind.  Never allow the child to think that "different" is not a good thing.  This may even mean prohibiting exposure to certain relatives that do not understand that autism (including AS) is neurological, and not a sign of bad parenting.  Some relatives may take it upon themselves to "correct" your child's behavior... things like pulling the child's face to theirs and saying, "Look at people when they talk to you, or else they will not like you," or things like that.  If that does happen unexpectedly, rebuke the relative immediately, in front of the child.  Explain to that relative, in private, that parenting is your job alone, and if that is not something that relative can accept, they will not be allowed exposure anymore.  This may be very tough to do if the relative is one that you have typically been intimidated by, but it is imperative that you do so.
 
Anything that makes the child feel bad or embarrassed by his behaviors will cut away at his self-esteem.  Please be aware that even when you do all you can to prevent this, the child will begin to notice his differences on his own, and if you allow anyone to plant the smallest seed of doubt regarding the validity of those behaviors, the child will begin to think of himself as lesser than his peers.   The child's peers, especially in a regular school, will pick on a child who is different, and this is tremendously damaging, especially for children that want to have friends.  This cannot be prevented fully, and that is why you must do all you can to prevent that which can be prevented.  Be sure the school is aware of the problem of bullying, and be clear that the only acceptable amount of abuse is NONE.  You may have to get rather belligerent with the school to get them to stop the bullying. 
Through elementary school, it is reasonable to expect that bullying will be stopped. 
 
It's much harder to prevent in the multi-class middle school environment.
Middle school is the worst.  My mother tried to help me here, but she lacked the experience I now have.  In my school district, fighting back was just as unacceptable as attacking someone, and I was taught to respect the rules.  I did, but the other kids did not.  As much as you may not want to hear it, your child should be allowed to disregard the rule against fighting back if he is physically attacked.  If your child is attacked, it is a sign that the school is not doing its job in preventing bullying, so the child that fights back is not the one at fault-- the school is at fault.  If the school suspends your child for legitimately defending himself, use the day off to take him to get some ice cream.  Your child's self-worth is more valuable than some arbitrary rule.  The bullying in seventh grade is brutal, and it is unrelenting.  I am not really sure if it is possible to stop all of the abuse in the middle school years, and if you are at all up to the task, I strongly recommend home schooling from the first year of middle school through the end of the first year of high school.  Those are the most abusive years, by far, and the level of brutality and intentional terrorism of which middle school-age children are capable is astounding.  In my case, this abuse destroyed my self-image, and I suffered depression that lingered eight years after I graduated from high school.  
 
My mother did the best she could in middle school, but it was not enough, which we both know now by experience.  She told me that if I was attacked or threatened, I should go tell an authority figure.  That only made it worse, and after more complaints to my mother resulting in the same advice, I quit telling her.  I suppose she thought that the problem cleared up, but it didn't.  I suffered in silence for years, with only the occasional obvious bruise or food stain on my clothes giving testament to the abuse of the day.  Be sure to tell your child to tell you ALL of the bad things that were done to him, and be sure he understands that it is OK, and that it is NOT his fault.  He may be embarrassed, and may not want to tell you.  Keep in mind that autistic kids are generally stoic, and the actual abuse is probably a lot worse than you think from hearing the child's reports.
 
All in all, my mother did a great job of raising a strange kid.  Before I knew I was autistic, I used to think she did a rather mediocre job, but as I have learned about the things parents do to their autistic children, I have become very appreciative that my mother accepted my weirdness and did not try to make me into a normal child.  Too many parents and professionals try to do this to autistic kids.  Take my word for it: your autistic child is not normal, nor will he ever be.  There is no recovery from autism-- the stories you hear about that are not as they appear. 
 
Temple Grandin claimed to be a recovered autistic when she wrote her autobiographical book Emergence: Labeled Autistic, but in her next book, Thinking in Pictures, published nine years later, she simply refers to herself as autistic.  She has improved in her ability to function, but she realized that she was still autistic, and that she always would be.  Recovery from autism is a wishful-thinking fantasy borne of denial.  That does not mean that there is no hope for a bright future!  If your child is allowed to grow up appreciating himself, his differences, and is given the tools to live in this strange world, WITHOUT trying to cure or remove the autism (which won't cure the autism, but will instead promote self-hatred), he can grow up and do things the doctor said would be impossible.  You may be really surprised at how much is possible if the child never gets the idea that he "can't."  Can't is a horrible word, perhaps one of the most disabling words in the English language.  Don't concentrate on what your child cannot do; concentrate on what he can do, and build on that every chance you get.  As you do, "can't" will get smaller and smaller with the passing of each day.

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Here's a song by Jessadriel Darkmountain (to the tune of "My Favorite Things" from the Sound of Music):

My Unfavorite Things

Bright clashing colors, machines that keep beeping,
Phones and alarm clocks that ring when I'm sleeping,
Getting told off when I'm scattered or late,
These are a few of the things that I hate.

Tags in my clothing and seams in my stocking,
Those who say "teasing" when really it's "mocking",
Fluorescent flicker and noises that grate:
These are a few of the things that I hate.

Too many people in too small a room,
Vile reeking chemicals mis-named "perfume",
Voices too loud and weird food on my plate,
These are a few of the things that I hate.

Being expected to follow the fashions,
Not being able to share my true passions,
People who bitch when I perseverate,
These are a few of the things that I hate.

Indirect questions and vague explanations,
Having to smile when I'm losing my patience,
Looks of disdain if I stim while I wait,
These are a few of the things that I hate.

When my hands flap, when my voice fails,
When I'm meltdown-mad,
I simply remember - I could be NT (ack!) -
And then I don't feel so bad!

© 2/10/04 Jessadriel Darkmountain

(Per Jessadriel: "Feel free to send it around wherever you wish, as long as my name stays on it.")

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Asperger Syndrome and Mom's Secret Weapon (A Mother's Day Reflection)

By Dan Coulter

This is for all the moms of children with Asperger Syndrome.

Want to be more effective in helping your child? Want to give him the best possible training to deal with AS and succeed? Then you need to access a secret weapon. You.

Your immediate reaction may be, "Yeah, right! I'm already doing everything I can. More than I can! In fact, I'm so stressed that just the thought of doing more threatens to shut me down."

But I bet you're overlooking something. Over the years since our son was diagnosed, I've talked with a lot of mothers of kids with AS. And Ive watched my wife, who, like most AS moms, has taken on the main burden of researching AS and dealing with schools, doctors and on and on and on.

A common thread that ties many of these moms together is frustration. Look at AS online discussion boards and see how often moms talk about failing and being discouraged day after day.

But how many are truly failing? I think these moms care so passionately about their kids and want them to succeed so badly that they don't give themselves enough credit for what they're accomplishing.

If you have a goal for your child and you don't reach that goal, do you give yourself credit for the progress you helped your child make toward that goal? If you try your hardest to reach the top of a mountain and you make it halfway up, did you fail? YOU MADE IT HALFWAY UP A MOUNTAIN!

And maybe you established a basecamp to help you reach the top in the future.

Like many AS moms I've met, my wife easily qualifies for sainthood. Over the years, she's worked closely with our son, Drew, and with teachers and principals and psychologists and support groups and more. Drew is now living three hours away from us in college. He's making good grades and has friends. And my wife still frets over the messy state of his dorm room and worries she should have gotten him more "executive function" training.

My point is that no matter how much or how little progress you make, it's easy to overlook that progress and focus on falling short of perfection. My wife told me about hearing a psychologist warn, "Don't 'should' on yourself." That's always obsessing: "I should have done this," or If I'd only done that."

Focusing on failure is depressing. It robs you of energy and generates stress. On the other hand, don't you feel good when you succeed? Don't you feel energized and optimistic? Don't you have better ideas and relate better to people?

That's the secret weapon. And you can legitimately tap into it if you just break down your objectives and goals into steps and give yourself credit for every step you and your child make toward success.

I've seen the results with kids. Praise their progress and they work harder to reach a goal. Criticize them and they tend to shut down and avoid even trying. The same thing works for us. If you focus on feeling good about progress instead of criticizing yourself for failure, your secret weapon kicks in.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not saying set low goals and be happy with mediocrity. I'm saying that giving yourself legitimate credit can put you into a positive frame of mind that gives you energy and better ideas

And if you have a positive attitude and energy when "Plan A" falls short you're more likely to try "Plan B" -- and "Plan C" and "Plan D." My son has already exceeded expectations so many times I can't count them. In big ways and in small ways. And if I've played a significant part, it's because my wife helped me see the role I needed to play.

Them wives are heaven-sent.

So set your goals high. Help your child find the best in himself. Help her find the best in others. Don't settle for less than your best. But you may be the only person in a position to truly appreciate all you're doing for your child. Those on the outside looking in cannot see how truly challenging Aspergers is. So step back occasionally. Look at the progress you've made in the face of pretty stiff obstacles. And give yourself a pat on the back. I'm betting you deserve a lot more than that -- and I hope you see your reward in the eyes of your child every Mother's Day for the rest of your life.

Dan Coulter and his wife, Julie, produce videos to help people with Asperger Syndrome. You can find more articles on their website at http://www.coultervideo.com.

Copyright 2004 Dan Coulter


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A Mothers Journey
Author Unknown

The young mother set her foot on the path of life. Is this the long way? She asked. And the guide said, Yes, and the way is hard. You will be old before you reach the end of it, however, the end will be better than the beginning.

But, the young mother was happy, and she wouldnt believe that anything could be better than these years.

So she played with the children, she fed them, bathed them, taught them how to tie their shoes, ride a bike, reminded them to feed the dog, do their homework and brush their teeth.

The sun shone on them, and the young mother cried, Nothing will be lovelier than this.

Then the nights came, and the storms, and the path was sometimes dark, and the children shook with fear and cold, the mother drew them close and covered them with her arms.

The children said, Mother, we are not afraid, for you are near, and no harm can come to us.

The morning came, and there was a hill ahead, the children climbed and grew weary, the mother also grew weary. But at all times she said to the children, A little patience and we will be there. So the children climbed, and as they climbed they learned to weather the storms. With this, she gave them strength to face the world.

Year after year, she showed them compassion, understanding, and hope, but most of all she gave them unconditional love.

When they reached the top they said, Mother, we wouldn't have done it without you.

The days went on, the weeks, the months and the years, the mother grew old and she became little and bent. But, her children were tall and strong; and walked with courage.

The mother, when she lay down at night, looked up at the stars and said, This is a better day than the last, for my children have learned so much and are now passing these traits on to their children.

When the way became rough for her, they lifted her, and gave her strength, just as she had given them hers.

One day they came to a hill, beyond the hill they could see a shining road with golden gates flung wide. And the mother said, I have reached the end of my journey and now I know the end is truly better than the beginning. My children and grandchildren can walk with dignity and pride, with their heads held high.

The children said, You will always walk with us, Mother, even when you have gone through the gates.

They stood and watched her as she went on alone, and the gates closed after her. They said, We cannot see her, but she is with us still. A mother like ours is more than a memory. She is a living presence.

Your Mother is always with you.

She is the whisper of the leaves as you walk down the street.

She is the smell of certain foods you remember.

She is the flowers you pick.

She is the smell of that special perfume she wore.

She is the cool hand on your brow when youre not feeling well.

She is your breath in the air on a cold winters day.

She is the sound of the rain that lulls you to sleep.

She is the colors of the rainbow.

She is Christmas morning.

Your Mother lives inside your laughter, and she is crystallized in every teardrop.

A mother shows every emotion: happiness, sadness, fear, jealousy, love, hate, anger, helplessness, excitement, joy, sorrow, and all the while, hoping and praying you will only know the good feelings in life.

Shes the place you came from, your first home, she's the map you follow with every step you take. She is the one you run to when you are scared. Her arms are always open to hold you and to console you.

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I am for mothers 
© Michelle Guppy

I am the little engine that did. When on my journey in life, my tracks led me to a mountain - a diagnosis of Autism - I looked at it with defeat - thinking there was no way I could climb over it. I then pondered the obstacle before me, and I then said to myself over and over, "I think I can, I think I can...," then I slowly started climbing the mountain saying to myself over and over, "I know I can, I know I can,...." and then I made it over that ominous diagnosis of Autism and continued my journey. I am the little engine that did.

I am more devoted than Noah's wife. I am cooped up in this "houseboat" for 365 days and 365 nights a year, constantly taking care of and cleaning up after my "herd of animals." And when the storms of isolation and monotony become most unbearable, I do not jump ship. Instead I wait for the rainbow that is sure to come.

I am Xena. Real life warrior goddess of Autism. With my steel plated armor I can fight anyone who gets in the way of progress for my child. I can fight the stares and ignorance of typpies - those without autism in their lives - and educate them as to why my child is the way he is, and why he does the things he does. I can fight the schools to have them properly educate my child. And I can fight denied insurance claims to get coverage for my child. Yes, I am Xena - and I am armed for battle...

I am Betsy Ross. I am part of History by my contribution to the Autism Awareness Quilt -- many pieces of fabric representing many states, stitched together, that will collectively symbolize Freedom. Freedom from the lack of information about Autism, Freedom from not knowing what causes Autism, and Freedom from the lack of funding and research to treat, overcome, and live with - Autism. Like Betsy's piece of fabric, my piece of fabric will someday sit in a museum, for others to see my 12.5 x 12.5 inch memorial of a battle well fought. Whether my child is "cured" in my lifetime does not matter, in the end what will matter to me and to my child, is that I never surrendered.

I am the Bionic Woman. I have X-Ray vision - I can see through the mask of autism on my child's face, and see the beauty in his soul and the intelligence in his eyes --- when others can't. I have super-hearing - I can look at my child when he smiles at me, and hear his voice say, "I Love You Mommy," --- even though he can't talk. Yes, I am thankful to be Bionic.

I am Mary. A not so well known mother of an Autistic child who was brought here to touch the souls of those around him, in a way that will forever change them. And it started with me. By teaching me things I would never have known, by bringing me friendships I never would have had, and by opening my eyes as to what really matters in life. Things like keeping the Faith, never losing Hope, and knowing a Love that that words cannot express. Yes, I too am blessed by a special child, just like Mary.

I am Superwoman. I am able to leap over tall loads of laundry in a single bound, and run faster than a speeding bullet, to chase my child as he dashes out the front door and heads for the busy street. Oh yes, without a doubt, I am Superwoman.

I am Moses. I am doing my part in leading other parents and society to more awareness, knowledge, and resources, and most of all - Faith. Like Moses did, I too, will sometimes meet with resistance from those who don't believe. And like Moses, God will give me the small Miracles here and there, needed to accomplish my mission.

I am Stretch Armstrong - a mom that can be stretched beyond belief - and still somehow return to normal. I can stretch limited funds to cover every treatment and therapy that insurance won't. I can stretch my patience as I explain my child's biomedical issues with yet another uneducated doctor. I can stretch what time I have, and share it with my husband, my
children, my church, and still have some leftover to help others. Yes, my name is Stretch. And I have the stretch-marks to prove it!

I am Rosa Parks. I refuse to move or waver in what I believe is right for my child --simply because my view is the minority, not the majority. I refuse to believe "What can one mother do?" But instead, I will write, call, and rally to the government, and do whatever it takes to bring equality for my child.

I am Hercules. The Greek god known for strength and courage. The heavy loads I must carry would make others crumble to the ground. The weight of Sorrow, Fear at uncertainty of the future, Injustice at having no answers, and from Tears of despair, would alone possibly be too much, --- even for Hercules. But then the Joy, Laughter, Smiles, and Tears of pride, - at my child's accomplishments, - balance the load to make it easy to bear.

I am touched by an Angel. An Angel who is often described as living in a world of his own. And it's true. He lives in a world of innocence and purity. A world without hatred or deceit. A world where everyone is beautiful and where no-one is ugly. A world where there is always enough time. A world where he goes to bed with no worries of tomorrow and wakes up with no regrets of the past. Yes, I most certainly am touched by an Angel, and I sometimes think that his world is better....

I am a mom of a special needs child, all the above, and so much more. Somedays I will want to be none of the above - and just be a typical mom with a typical child, doing typical things. On those days I will know it's o.k. to be angry, and to cry, and to lean on my friends for support. Because after all, ---the most important thing I am, ..... is human.
 
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A Broken Spirit

©Elaine Flasher

February 10, 2004

 

 

 A broken spirit is hard to see,

 Sometimes it presents with glee.

 Hiding for it has no place to go,

 Only struggling within the soul.

 

 A broken spirit cannot see,

 The torment brought to thee.

 If it does fear will set in,

 A flaming sun will not bring.

 

 The light to see another day,

 All reality will fade away.

 The body numbs from the pain,

 Not knowing how to feel again.

 

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Mothers who get something more
Lori Borgman


Expectant mothers waiting for a newborn's arrival say they don't care what sex the baby is. They just want it to have ten fingers and ten toes.

Mothers lie.

Every mother wants so much more. She wants a perfectly healthy baby with a round head, rosebud lips, button nose, beautiful eyes and satin skin. She wants a baby so gorgeous that people will pity the Gerber baby for being flat-out ugly.

She wants a baby that will roll over, sit up and take those first steps right on schedule (according to the baby development chart on page 57, column two). Every mother wants a baby that can see, hear, run, jump and fire neurons by the billions. She wants a kid that can smack the ball out of the park and do toe points that are the envy of the entire ballet class. Call it greed if you want, but a mother wants what a mother wants. Some mothers get babies with something more.

Maybe you're one who got a baby with a condition you couldn't pronounce, a spine that didn't fuse, a missing chromosome or a palette that didn't close. The doctor's words took your breath away. It was just like the time at recess in the fourth grade when you didn't see the kick ball coming and it knocked the wind right out of you.

Some of you left the hospital with a healthy bundle, then, months, even years later, took him in for a routine visit, or scheduled her for a well check, and crashed head first into a brick wall as you bore the brunt of devastating news. It didn't seem possible. That didn't run in your family. Could this really be happening in your lifetime?

I watch the Olympics for the sheer thrill of seeing finely sculpted bodies. It's not a lust thing, it's a wondrous thing. They appear as specimens without flaw -- muscles, strength and coordination all working in perfect harmony. Then an athlete walks over to a tote bag, rustles through the contents and pulls out an inhaler.

There's no such thing as a perfect body. Everybody will bear something at some time or another. Maybe the affliction will be apparent to curious eyes, or maybe it will be unseen, quietly treated with trips to the doctor, therapy or surgery. Mothers of children with disabilities live the limitations with them.

Frankly, I don't know how you do it. Sometimes you mothers scare me. How you lift that kid in and out of the wheelchair twenty times a day. How you monitor tests, track medications, and serve as the gatekeeper to a hundred specialists yammering in your ear.

I wonder how you endure the cliches and the platitudes, the well-intentioned souls explaining how G-d is at work when you've occasionally questioned if G-d is on strike. I even wonder how you endure schmaltzy columns like this one -- saluting you, painting you as hero and saint, when you know you're ordinary. You snap, you bark, you bite. You didn't volunteer for this, you didn't jump up and down in the motherhood line yelling, "Choose me, G-d. Choose me! I've got what it takes."

You're a woman who doesn't have time to step back and put things in perspective, so let me do it for you. From where I sit, you're way ahead of the pack. You've developed the strength of a draft horse while holding onto the delicacy of a daffodil. You have a heart that melts like chocolate in a glove box in July, counter-balanced against the stubbornness of an Ozark mule.

You are the mother, advocate and protector of a child with a disability. You're a neighbor, a friend, a woman I pass at church and my sister-in-law. You're a wonder.

You can read more by Lori Borgman at
http://www.loriborgman.com

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Where Are the Parents?
© Sue Stuyvesant ~   who penned this about why there were no parents at a meeting, after a public school administrator complained "Where are the parents?"

They are on the phone to doctors and hospitals and fighting with insurance companies, wading through the red tape in order that their child's medical needs can be properly addressed. They are buried under a mountain of paperwork and medical bills, trying to make sense of a system that seems designed to confuse and intimidate all but the very savvy.
 
Where are the parents?
They are at home, diapering their 15 year old son, or
trying to lift their 100 lb. daughter onto the toilet.They are spending an hour at each meal to feed a child who cannot chew, or laboriously and carefully feeding their child through a g-tube. They are administering medications, changing catheters and switching oxygen tanks.
 
Where are the parents?
They are sitting, bleary eyed and exhausted, in hospital
emergency rooms, waiting for tests results to come back and wondering: is this the time when my child doesn't pull through? They are sitting patiently, in hospital rooms as their child recovers from yet another surgery to lengthen hamstrings or straighten backs or repair a faulty internal organ. They are waiting in long lines in county clinics because no insurance company will touch their child.

Where are the parents?
They are sleeping in shifts because their child won't sleep
more than 2 or 3 hours a night, and must constantly be watched, lest he do himself, or another member of the family harm. They are sitting at home with their child because family and friends are either too intimidated or too unwilling to help with child care and the state agencies that are designed to help are
suffering cut backs of there own.
 
Where are the parents?
They are trying to spend time with their non-disabled children 
 as they try to make up for the extra time and effort that is critical to keeping their disabled child alive. They are struggling to keep a marriage together, because adversity does not always bring you closer. They are working 2 and sometime 3 jobs in order to keep up with the extra expenses. And sometimes they are a single parent struggling to do it all by themselves.
 
Where are the parents?
They are trying to survive in a society that pays lip service to
helping those in need, as long as it doesn't cost them anything. They are trying to patch their broken dreams together so that they might have some sort of normal life for their children and their families.
 
They are busy, trying to survive.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Where Are the Parents?
 
Adapted from a paper By Sue Stuyvesant -The author of this adapted version wishes to remain anonymous.

Where Are the Parents?
 
They are on the phone to doctors and hospitals, fighting with insurance companies, wading through the red tape in order that their child's medical needs can be properly addressed.
They are buried under a mountain of paperwork and medical bills, trying to make sense of a system that seems designed to confuse and intimidate all but the very savvy.  They are weary because everyone says they cannot help them, and oh, Autism is excluded from your health insurance policy because it is a psychological problem, not a physiological problem.
 
Where are the parents?
They are on the phone to school districts, teachers, special education administrators, trying to get what is just for their children.   They are buried under a mountain of regulations and laws
that purport to help them, but just serve to confuse them.  They are trying to become school house lawyers just to get what the law already says they are their rights.  They try to explain why it is not acceptable for Johnny or Mary to sit in the chair without stimulation for four hours a day, or why circle time is just not something that a child with autism can understand.
 
Where are the parents?
They are at home, diapering their 6 year old son.  They are chasing their child, who does not understand the need to eat, or who is allergic to food, because of the exorbitant behavior the allergies to food bring on.  They spend hours trying to convince a child to eat that has no
interest.  They are administering medications, hoping and wondering if there is anything that science will do to help.
 
Where are the parents?
They are sitting, bleary eyed and exhausted, in hospital emergency rooms, waiting for tests results to come back and wondering: is this the time when my child doesn't pull through?
It seems that Johnny ran out into the road because he did not know any better.
 
Where are the parents?
They are incapacitated, after the sleeping aid the doctor prescribed for Johnny had the opposite effect, and caused the child to stay up for 10 strait days. Somehow, they were not able to come to the meeting.
 
Where are the parents?
They are home reading books about behaviorism and psychology, hoping to learn enough to make some difference in their child's lives, because the professionals have told them that discreet trial or 40 hours a week of intense behavioral intervention is not appropriate for a child. "The child needs to play" they say  but the child does not know how to play. "The child needs to