This is what I wrote down trying to process my feelings & thoughts after learning of my mother's death. It's all very jumbly & confusing
So this weekend my mother died, & I'm not sure how I feel or how I'm supposed to feel or really anything. Those of you who know me know that I've not had a relationship with my mom for years, but that doesn't prevent the emotional confusion.
The last thing my mother said to me was "get a real job or die on the street." I was extremely, obviously ill at the time, & that was what she had to say. She had spent the previous several years hurting my physically-I have dents in my skull that I was not born with-and verbally abusing me and justifying her husband's abuse of me. So, if that is my mother, if that is who she is, then how I feel right now is probably appropriate and normal. Mourning one's abuser and tormentor isn't something that is reasonable to expect of anyone. Numbness, if not outright relief, is a reasonable thing to expect.
But my mother wasn't always like that. When I was young, she fought for my intelligence and capabilities to be recognized. When I was being tormented at school by teachers and students alike, she logged many many hours talking to teachers and parents of other kids in my classes. I've been having roughly identical "WHY IS EVERYTHING SO DAMN DIFFICULT?!?!?" meltdowns since I was about seven years old. When I was little she'd squish me tight, stroke my hair, & say "I don't know, punkin. I just don't know." She didn't understand me by any stretch of the imagination, but the mom I had when I was little sure tried. She made mistakes, as do all parents, some of them pretty huge, as with all parents, but the mom I had when I was little was doing everything in her power to do what was best for me.
And that's what makes this so complex & difficult. The mother of Little K was a woman worth mourning. The mother of Adult K was scary & upredictable & abusive, and not ever dealing with her again is a relief. But I had it in my head that Little K's mom could be somehow revived.
That's probably not the case though. Little K's mom died a long time ago, I think, even though her body never went anywhere. I think I knew that and did my mourning and mental burying a long time ago. The scary person occupying her body is not the mother I could once depend on to always be on my side, even when she didn't understand why that was my side.
So being numb is probably ok. I think I came to terms with my mother's death years ago and just hadn't thought of it that way. Feeling guilty about being numb, probably also ok, but not necessary. Or something. I don't know.
Showing posts with label parents. Show all posts
Showing posts with label parents. Show all posts
Monday, January 23, 2012
Saturday, January 21, 2012
Guest Post-To The Parents Of Newly Diagnosed Kids
A friend of mine, pseudonym of Gen Eric, wrote this. It's great & wholly unedited, except for some HTML fixin'. Enjoy.
Your child is probably between the ages of two and five, possibly older (even much older) and possibly (though unlikely) younger. Your child was probably developing just like any typical child until slowly, and almost without explanation, things seemed to take an unusual turn. Maybe they lost speech, or eye contact, or just started doing “unusual” things like stacking or lining objects. Frantically you run for a medical professional, who looks your child over, does some tests, takes you into a room, and tells you a word you’ve been conditioned since childhood to fear.
Autism. (DUNN DUNN DUNN, DUNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)
Your heart sinks. Your dreams of college graduation and grandchildren seemingly fly out the window. This professional probably fills your head with images of someone who will never relate to the world, never get a job, never live independently. Running to the Internet, all you seem to find is tales of financial ruin and broken families. You sink into a deep depression and desperation. How can this child, who was so normal only a month ago, suddenly “vanish” into this “void?” Obviously they just got sick, or trapped, and it’s your job to rescue them.
Now that all that unpleasant business is out of the way, I only have two things to say to you: welcome, and don’t be afraid.
Welcome to a fascinating new adventure with your child. Welcome to learning more about yourself than you ever thought possible. Welcome to a true autistic community that is ready to accept you with open arms.
Don’t be afraid, because autism is nothing to be afraid of. The media has been filling your mind with “autiephobia” since before you can remember. The autism industry is no better, and is actually much worse. They need to keep you afraid so you’ll buy every pill, potion, and behavioral “treatment” they offer, in classic medicine-show style. They need to keep you afraid so you’ll keep donating, keep walking to bring in donations; if you don’t, where will they get their exorbitant salaries? If you give in to the fear, it will consume you and your child. If you stand up to the fear, it will eventually back down.
I call this an adventure, but remember, it’s not an adventure that ends with a normal or “recovered” child. Your child could regain speech, get mainstreamed, succeed in college and work, marry, and have children, or none of those things, or any combination thereof; but no matter what they’ll still be autistic, every bit as autistic as they were the day they were diagnosed. There is no such thing as a “cure,” and there is no normal child who got sick or trapped in some autistic shell. The only thing the “cure” industry does is to give you a stone to make your soup, then sit back and declare victory when your child naturally develops.
It’s true that with behavioral “therapy” (animal training), your child may learn to look, and act, normal, but they won’t be. All they’ll be is an autistic person who is afraid, or ashamed, to be an autistic person, and loaded with a host of mental baggage. They may even harbor a deep resentment towards you, which is the last thing any parent could want. Your child is unique, and will always experience the world as an autistic person, and that’s not a bad thing.
The autism industry tries to paint neurodiversity and autistic self-advocacy as some kind of anti-parent cabal of “high functioning” “aspies,” who instinctively hate you for trying to cure your horribly ill child. The truth is that neurodiversity activists are as unique as autistic people themselves. Most of us are autistic, but not all. Some of us have an autistic child or other family member, some are romantically involved with an autistic person, and some of us got into neurodiversity through an autistic friend. Some of us are labeled “high functioning,” some of us are labeled “low functioning,” and some of us have been cycled through labels like some people cycle through hairstyles. We also have something meaningful and wonderful to offer you.
What neurodiversity offers you as a parent is the hope for a world where your child will be accepted on their own terms. Neurodiversity offers a chance to fight for what your child really needs, access and respect, as an autistic person. The neurodiversity movement values your child for their individual strengths and offers understanding for individual weaknesses. Believe it or not, we’re the ones really fighting for your child. We welcome NT allies and we hope you’ll join us in our fight.
We’re vehemently anti-cure (no autism, no me), but we’re not anti-progress. We know that every autistic person will develop differently, but we all develop. None of us are the same person at thirty that we were at five. Your child won’t be the same person at thirty as they are at five. And why would we, or they, be? Are you?
So welcome, I hope, to the neurodiversity community. I hope reading this has helped you calm your fears and prepare for your upcoming adventure.
Your child is probably between the ages of two and five, possibly older (even much older) and possibly (though unlikely) younger. Your child was probably developing just like any typical child until slowly, and almost without explanation, things seemed to take an unusual turn. Maybe they lost speech, or eye contact, or just started doing “unusual” things like stacking or lining objects. Frantically you run for a medical professional, who looks your child over, does some tests, takes you into a room, and tells you a word you’ve been conditioned since childhood to fear.
Autism. (DUNN DUNN DUNN, DUNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)
Your heart sinks. Your dreams of college graduation and grandchildren seemingly fly out the window. This professional probably fills your head with images of someone who will never relate to the world, never get a job, never live independently. Running to the Internet, all you seem to find is tales of financial ruin and broken families. You sink into a deep depression and desperation. How can this child, who was so normal only a month ago, suddenly “vanish” into this “void?” Obviously they just got sick, or trapped, and it’s your job to rescue them.
Now that all that unpleasant business is out of the way, I only have two things to say to you: welcome, and don’t be afraid.
Welcome to a fascinating new adventure with your child. Welcome to learning more about yourself than you ever thought possible. Welcome to a true autistic community that is ready to accept you with open arms.
Don’t be afraid, because autism is nothing to be afraid of. The media has been filling your mind with “autiephobia” since before you can remember. The autism industry is no better, and is actually much worse. They need to keep you afraid so you’ll buy every pill, potion, and behavioral “treatment” they offer, in classic medicine-show style. They need to keep you afraid so you’ll keep donating, keep walking to bring in donations; if you don’t, where will they get their exorbitant salaries? If you give in to the fear, it will consume you and your child. If you stand up to the fear, it will eventually back down.
I call this an adventure, but remember, it’s not an adventure that ends with a normal or “recovered” child. Your child could regain speech, get mainstreamed, succeed in college and work, marry, and have children, or none of those things, or any combination thereof; but no matter what they’ll still be autistic, every bit as autistic as they were the day they were diagnosed. There is no such thing as a “cure,” and there is no normal child who got sick or trapped in some autistic shell. The only thing the “cure” industry does is to give you a stone to make your soup, then sit back and declare victory when your child naturally develops.
It’s true that with behavioral “therapy” (animal training), your child may learn to look, and act, normal, but they won’t be. All they’ll be is an autistic person who is afraid, or ashamed, to be an autistic person, and loaded with a host of mental baggage. They may even harbor a deep resentment towards you, which is the last thing any parent could want. Your child is unique, and will always experience the world as an autistic person, and that’s not a bad thing.
The autism industry tries to paint neurodiversity and autistic self-advocacy as some kind of anti-parent cabal of “high functioning” “aspies,” who instinctively hate you for trying to cure your horribly ill child. The truth is that neurodiversity activists are as unique as autistic people themselves. Most of us are autistic, but not all. Some of us have an autistic child or other family member, some are romantically involved with an autistic person, and some of us got into neurodiversity through an autistic friend. Some of us are labeled “high functioning,” some of us are labeled “low functioning,” and some of us have been cycled through labels like some people cycle through hairstyles. We also have something meaningful and wonderful to offer you.
What neurodiversity offers you as a parent is the hope for a world where your child will be accepted on their own terms. Neurodiversity offers a chance to fight for what your child really needs, access and respect, as an autistic person. The neurodiversity movement values your child for their individual strengths and offers understanding for individual weaknesses. Believe it or not, we’re the ones really fighting for your child. We welcome NT allies and we hope you’ll join us in our fight.
We’re vehemently anti-cure (no autism, no me), but we’re not anti-progress. We know that every autistic person will develop differently, but we all develop. None of us are the same person at thirty that we were at five. Your child won’t be the same person at thirty as they are at five. And why would we, or they, be? Are you?
So welcome, I hope, to the neurodiversity community. I hope reading this has helped you calm your fears and prepare for your upcoming adventure.
Friday, November 4, 2011
So this is why I don't blog for other people much, or go to many conferences.
Something I wrote here was reprinted on Thinking Person's Guide to Autism (with my permission, at their request). It was the story about C. You know, the C who had no reliable and honored means of communication and who was given no agency?
Apparently it was an anti-ABA screed, judging of his parents (and damn right I judge his parents. I'm not a hypocrite-everyone judges everyone. "Judging" does not mean "makes a negative assessment of someone and shares it". "Judging" is making any damn assessment, good, bad, or neutral, and keeping it to yourself or sharing or whatever, judgement already made.) We all do it, all the time, it's one of the things that makes us human, conceited because I was proud of what I had done (I don't understand what's wrong with that?), a bad example because I yelled at a woman who grabbed a child's body and made him do things he expressly indicated he did not want to do (because autistic kids don't deserve bodily agency? Forget that), and all kinds of other things I didn't say.
There are all kinds of controversial things I actually do say. If you must yell at me-and sometimes I think "terrorize the autistic" is an international sport-then yell at me for something I actually said. Don't yell at me for "tone"-we have had that discussion before and I think it should be an offense punishable by being cut off from the internet for 3 weeks. If I am talking about a specific event, unless it is about you it is not about you. You probably aren't that important. If I say something about a specific person, place, thing, or idea, I'm dead certain it's true. I have a painfully good situational memory and good pattern recognition-things that are honed to, you know, predict when people are going to slam your head into a wall.
I avoid contact with people who do these kinds of things because I've already had enough of it. I know where to find my mother (dents in the skull for all!). Speaking of skull dents, I know where to find the sack of shit who put me in the hospital with adrenal crisis, brain swelling so bad I couldn't stop throwing up and couldn't see. I know where to find the sorts of other people's parents who stab me in the arm-and yes it happened and go fuck yourself if you are going to tell me that I probably deserved it. No one deserves to be stabbed in the arm by a stranger or even someone they know, even if they are committing the huge crime of being autistic and adult at the same time. I know where to find the sharks. But I am tired of being forced to swim with them.
Apparently it was an anti-ABA screed, judging of his parents (and damn right I judge his parents. I'm not a hypocrite-everyone judges everyone. "Judging" does not mean "makes a negative assessment of someone and shares it". "Judging" is making any damn assessment, good, bad, or neutral, and keeping it to yourself or sharing or whatever, judgement already made.) We all do it, all the time, it's one of the things that makes us human, conceited because I was proud of what I had done (I don't understand what's wrong with that?), a bad example because I yelled at a woman who grabbed a child's body and made him do things he expressly indicated he did not want to do (because autistic kids don't deserve bodily agency? Forget that), and all kinds of other things I didn't say.
There are all kinds of controversial things I actually do say. If you must yell at me-and sometimes I think "terrorize the autistic" is an international sport-then yell at me for something I actually said. Don't yell at me for "tone"-we have had that discussion before and I think it should be an offense punishable by being cut off from the internet for 3 weeks. If I am talking about a specific event, unless it is about you it is not about you. You probably aren't that important. If I say something about a specific person, place, thing, or idea, I'm dead certain it's true. I have a painfully good situational memory and good pattern recognition-things that are honed to, you know, predict when people are going to slam your head into a wall.
I avoid contact with people who do these kinds of things because I've already had enough of it. I know where to find my mother (dents in the skull for all!). Speaking of skull dents, I know where to find the sack of shit who put me in the hospital with adrenal crisis, brain swelling so bad I couldn't stop throwing up and couldn't see. I know where to find the sorts of other people's parents who stab me in the arm-and yes it happened and go fuck yourself if you are going to tell me that I probably deserved it. No one deserves to be stabbed in the arm by a stranger or even someone they know, even if they are committing the huge crime of being autistic and adult at the same time. I know where to find the sharks. But I am tired of being forced to swim with them.
Saturday, October 22, 2011
For the billionth time: I DON'T HATE PARENTS
Well, not as a general rule. I make exceptions obviously, but someone kind of has to earn my ire.
Some absolutely wonderful people I know are parents (obviously. I work with kids). Some of them are even parents of autistic kids. Some parents of autistic kids have been nothing but lovely to me. I count some of these people as friends, even-a much more exclusive group than "people who are pretty alright".
If you are a parent & feeling like I hate you because I call you on something that's a problem-NT centering, for example, or calling yourself the autistic community when you aren't autistic, or for accidental use of silencing tactics or whatever-that does not mean I hate you! If I hate you, I'll probably say so, in so many words.
It is not an attack on all parents when I speak the ugly truth that many, many parents are horrible. Don't tell me that doesn't happen. It does. Been there, done that, paid the therapy bills. Don't tell me that parents don't center themselves in discussions on disability. A lot do. Many probably don't mean to. The ones who persist in doing so are irritating. That doesn't mean I hate them, unless they're really egregiously obnoxious about it.
I am not demonizing parents as a group pretty much ever. Those of you who think so really need to get over yourselves. If you feel 'demonized' by someone with a disability calling out problematic behavior, then maybe you need to look at yourself and why you feel hurt, especially if you insist you aren't Like That. If you are so deeply hurt by hearing about specific things that specific shitty parents have done, dig deep inside yourself and figure out why that is. Is it a knee-jerk feel-offended-because-someone-didn't-glorify-parents-of-disabled-kids? That's a personal problem that you may need to work on. Is it an I-feel-bad-because-I-empathize-with-these-shitheads? That's a different kind of personal problem. But it isn't me demonizing parents (I keep using that word because it keeps getting thrown around and I don't really know what the users are using it to mean, except "making out to be a demon") when I give specific examples of parenting choices that are shitawful.
But I don't hate parents! I hate certain things some parents do! I hate parents who are horrible people. That isn't unreasonable! I hate when parents tell me I need to shut up because of whatever stupid reasons! Also not unreasonable. And I think it's fair that I hate the dad who decided that stabbing an autistic teenager in the arm because of...whatever reason he gave, something about his wife and crying...was a good idea. Don't tell me that's unreasonable either!
So, if you think I hate you because you engage in any of those things, I don't, probably. But I sure think they're shitty things to do. If you want to know if I hate you, specifically, you can ask instead of assuming.
But I probably don't. I just won't hide what I think to make people less uncomfortable.
Some absolutely wonderful people I know are parents (obviously. I work with kids). Some of them are even parents of autistic kids. Some parents of autistic kids have been nothing but lovely to me. I count some of these people as friends, even-a much more exclusive group than "people who are pretty alright".
If you are a parent & feeling like I hate you because I call you on something that's a problem-NT centering, for example, or calling yourself the autistic community when you aren't autistic, or for accidental use of silencing tactics or whatever-that does not mean I hate you! If I hate you, I'll probably say so, in so many words.
It is not an attack on all parents when I speak the ugly truth that many, many parents are horrible. Don't tell me that doesn't happen. It does. Been there, done that, paid the therapy bills. Don't tell me that parents don't center themselves in discussions on disability. A lot do. Many probably don't mean to. The ones who persist in doing so are irritating. That doesn't mean I hate them, unless they're really egregiously obnoxious about it.
I am not demonizing parents as a group pretty much ever. Those of you who think so really need to get over yourselves. If you feel 'demonized' by someone with a disability calling out problematic behavior, then maybe you need to look at yourself and why you feel hurt, especially if you insist you aren't Like That. If you are so deeply hurt by hearing about specific things that specific shitty parents have done, dig deep inside yourself and figure out why that is. Is it a knee-jerk feel-offended-because-someone-didn't-glorify-parents-of-disabled-kids? That's a personal problem that you may need to work on. Is it an I-feel-bad-because-I-empathize-with-these-shitheads? That's a different kind of personal problem. But it isn't me demonizing parents (I keep using that word because it keeps getting thrown around and I don't really know what the users are using it to mean, except "making out to be a demon") when I give specific examples of parenting choices that are shitawful.
But I don't hate parents! I hate certain things some parents do! I hate parents who are horrible people. That isn't unreasonable! I hate when parents tell me I need to shut up because of whatever stupid reasons! Also not unreasonable. And I think it's fair that I hate the dad who decided that stabbing an autistic teenager in the arm because of...whatever reason he gave, something about his wife and crying...was a good idea. Don't tell me that's unreasonable either!
So, if you think I hate you because you engage in any of those things, I don't, probably. But I sure think they're shitty things to do. If you want to know if I hate you, specifically, you can ask instead of assuming.
But I probably don't. I just won't hide what I think to make people less uncomfortable.
Saturday, June 25, 2011
Parents of autistic kids are bullies.
Not all of them, obviously. But a disturbing percentage.
They say something I disagree with? Waaaaah, I'm not empathizing with the difficulty they have as a parent. Don't I know how horrible it is to parent a kid "who happens to be diagnosed with" autism?
Oh, Neurodivergent K, you say your parents were abusive? Don't you know how much they suffered? They probably just couldn't cope! What do you mean that is a thoroughly offensive and disgusting thing to say? Don't you have any empathy for your parents? I'm sure they didn't wake up and say "so how do I traumatize my kid today?". God, you autistics just don't understand us poor brave struggling parent-warriors.
You disagree with this and find it repugnant? Why are you so angry??!?!? Life hands you lemons, make lemonade! (fuck that, incidentally. Life hands you lemons, chuck them back as hard as you can. When they bounce off, set them on fire and do it again.) Anger doesn't accomplish anything! OMG INFIGHTING! You say you're an adult so act like one! Stop having a tantrum!
Yeah, people actually talk to me this way. Parents of autistic kids-often the same ones who presume to ask me about my bowel movements and menstruation-cannot handle an autistic person disagreeing with them.
And that's when they bully. They come in a herd. They condescend. They misread what you say. They assume emotions that I am not necessarily feeling. They assume that anger is a "bad" emotion, one undeserved. They decide that doing exactly what they do is 'tantrumming', because of course autistic people have no right to expect to be treated as adults. It's all that schoolyard crap, again and again.
And they wonder why I worry for their children. How the hell are they going to advocate for their children when they are bullying someone who has the same neurotype as their kids?!?
I hope to hell that no one treats their kids the way they treat me. It isn't the children's fault their parents are grade-A asswipes. But still, grade-A asswipes.
If you are an autistic person, you know exactly what I am talking about. If you are a parent who thinks that talking to autistic people like that is acceptable, thinks that your view of autism matters more than what actual autistic people think, you just may be a grade-A asswipe. Cut that shit out.
They say something I disagree with? Waaaaah, I'm not empathizing with the difficulty they have as a parent. Don't I know how horrible it is to parent a kid "who happens to be diagnosed with" autism?
Oh, Neurodivergent K, you say your parents were abusive? Don't you know how much they suffered? They probably just couldn't cope! What do you mean that is a thoroughly offensive and disgusting thing to say? Don't you have any empathy for your parents? I'm sure they didn't wake up and say "so how do I traumatize my kid today?". God, you autistics just don't understand us poor brave struggling parent-warriors.
You disagree with this and find it repugnant? Why are you so angry??!?!? Life hands you lemons, make lemonade! (fuck that, incidentally. Life hands you lemons, chuck them back as hard as you can. When they bounce off, set them on fire and do it again.) Anger doesn't accomplish anything! OMG INFIGHTING! You say you're an adult so act like one! Stop having a tantrum!
Yeah, people actually talk to me this way. Parents of autistic kids-often the same ones who presume to ask me about my bowel movements and menstruation-cannot handle an autistic person disagreeing with them.
And that's when they bully. They come in a herd. They condescend. They misread what you say. They assume emotions that I am not necessarily feeling. They assume that anger is a "bad" emotion, one undeserved. They decide that doing exactly what they do is 'tantrumming', because of course autistic people have no right to expect to be treated as adults. It's all that schoolyard crap, again and again.
And they wonder why I worry for their children. How the hell are they going to advocate for their children when they are bullying someone who has the same neurotype as their kids?!?
I hope to hell that no one treats their kids the way they treat me. It isn't the children's fault their parents are grade-A asswipes. But still, grade-A asswipes.
If you are an autistic person, you know exactly what I am talking about. If you are a parent who thinks that talking to autistic people like that is acceptable, thinks that your view of autism matters more than what actual autistic people think, you just may be a grade-A asswipe. Cut that shit out.
Saturday, April 2, 2011
Loving Lamposts
"He knows he used to have autism and that makes him sad."
This statement in the documentary Loving Lampposts has been haunting me. It is among the most tragic sentiments I've ever heard. My heart aches for that child-not because he 'had' autism, but because who he is is seen as shameful. His brother was described as "having some of the same thought processes as autistic children...but if anything, he's gifted."
And attitudes like that, attitudes that autism is a horrorshow and we're all doomed to utter incompetence, is why Loving Lammposts gets happy flappies from me.
Why?
This documentary leaps in where angels fear to tread: Todd Drezner interviewed people on all fronts of the autism wars. He talked to Jenny McCarthy. He talked to people selling quack treatments. He talked to cure-oriented parents buying those treatments. He talked to true believers in the vaccine hypothesis. He talked to scientists, experts, and 'experts.' He talked to acceptance-focused parents. And he talked to autistics.
Representing all factions in the often heated discussion about autism is no easy task. How can it be, when one group is convinced another is malignantly misguided, and another is convinced that their opposition wants their kids to fester, and more people are convinced an autistic isn't an autistic if they have an opinion on autism? It's hard enough to wrap your head around the idea-now try presenting all viewpoints in a respectful manner in a fairly short documentary. Yeah, like that's possible.
Except apparently it is, because Loving Lampposts is exactly that. Everyone has their say. Even we have our say, which doesn't happen in the autism world much.
Through interviews, Drezner put human faces to all the views on autism. That's something that gets lost in the heat around autism-that everyone involved is a human. The parents who are frantic to fix their 'broken' kid are human. Those kids? Also human. The parents who are striving not to fix but understand? So human that I wanted to reach out and give some hugs. And their children? And the autistic adults? Three dimensional really real people.
I've been anticipating this documentary since I met the production crew at AutCom in 2007. It was worth the wait-I've been recommending it to everyone who wants to know about the autistic community, the autism communities, and their relationships to each other.
Loving Lampposts is a slice of getting it that exceeded my expectations. A++, would watch again (and again...and again...and again).
This statement in the documentary Loving Lampposts has been haunting me. It is among the most tragic sentiments I've ever heard. My heart aches for that child-not because he 'had' autism, but because who he is is seen as shameful. His brother was described as "having some of the same thought processes as autistic children...but if anything, he's gifted."
And attitudes like that, attitudes that autism is a horrorshow and we're all doomed to utter incompetence, is why Loving Lammposts gets happy flappies from me.
Why?
This documentary leaps in where angels fear to tread: Todd Drezner interviewed people on all fronts of the autism wars. He talked to Jenny McCarthy. He talked to people selling quack treatments. He talked to cure-oriented parents buying those treatments. He talked to true believers in the vaccine hypothesis. He talked to scientists, experts, and 'experts.' He talked to acceptance-focused parents. And he talked to autistics.
Representing all factions in the often heated discussion about autism is no easy task. How can it be, when one group is convinced another is malignantly misguided, and another is convinced that their opposition wants their kids to fester, and more people are convinced an autistic isn't an autistic if they have an opinion on autism? It's hard enough to wrap your head around the idea-now try presenting all viewpoints in a respectful manner in a fairly short documentary. Yeah, like that's possible.
Except apparently it is, because Loving Lampposts is exactly that. Everyone has their say. Even we have our say, which doesn't happen in the autism world much.
Through interviews, Drezner put human faces to all the views on autism. That's something that gets lost in the heat around autism-that everyone involved is a human. The parents who are frantic to fix their 'broken' kid are human. Those kids? Also human. The parents who are striving not to fix but understand? So human that I wanted to reach out and give some hugs. And their children? And the autistic adults? Three dimensional really real people.
I've been anticipating this documentary since I met the production crew at AutCom in 2007. It was worth the wait-I've been recommending it to everyone who wants to know about the autistic community, the autism communities, and their relationships to each other.
Loving Lampposts is a slice of getting it that exceeded my expectations. A++, would watch again (and again...and again...and again).
Monday, November 1, 2010
I'm on your kid's side too
No, really, I am. That's why I do what I do. The harsh reality is that your kid is going to grow up to be more like me than like you, no matter what you do to change that.
There are a few ways of dealing with this. One is to ignore it & to devalue what we do with any or all of the tactics out of Derailing For Dummies. One is to insist that your child will be like you through some cure. When this inevitably doesn't happen, the legacy of failure will haunt your child forever. Or, you can accept this truth & work with autistic advocates.
Our idea of the future we want for your kids-and for ours, and for ourselves- isn't what you seem to think. I'm all for helping your child's sensory issues, helping him develop job skills, giving her an easily recognized mode of communication. None of this things seeks to change who we fundamentally are.
What I fight for is a world where your child is seen as whole as she is, not as a mistake or sick or broken. I am fighting for a world where the tragedy model of autism is a think of the past, where inflammatory terms such as "autism tsunami" are seen in the same light as racial slurs. I'm fighting for a world where people are accepted and expected to be the best them they can be, instead of pruned into a false normalcy.
That is what I want for your child. THat is what I want for all people. So yes, I am on your child's side. For his sake, I hope you are too.
There are a few ways of dealing with this. One is to ignore it & to devalue what we do with any or all of the tactics out of Derailing For Dummies. One is to insist that your child will be like you through some cure. When this inevitably doesn't happen, the legacy of failure will haunt your child forever. Or, you can accept this truth & work with autistic advocates.
Our idea of the future we want for your kids-and for ours, and for ourselves- isn't what you seem to think. I'm all for helping your child's sensory issues, helping him develop job skills, giving her an easily recognized mode of communication. None of this things seeks to change who we fundamentally are.
What I fight for is a world where your child is seen as whole as she is, not as a mistake or sick or broken. I am fighting for a world where the tragedy model of autism is a think of the past, where inflammatory terms such as "autism tsunami" are seen in the same light as racial slurs. I'm fighting for a world where people are accepted and expected to be the best them they can be, instead of pruned into a false normalcy.
That is what I want for your child. THat is what I want for all people. So yes, I am on your child's side. For his sake, I hope you are too.
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