Rhapsody is a Kitty & He Needs Help.

This is Rhapsody:

I met Rhapsody at Autreat last summer-he was there in training as a service kitty, along with his littermate. I hit my wall very suddenly & unexpectedly and was crying about missing my cat & wanting to go home to my cat, & Rhapsody's human, Jim Sinclair brought *a* cat--Rhapsody. And Rhapsody allowed me to cuddle him while kind of crying so hard I was shaking and it's totally not a cat's favorite at all, to be loved on by someone melting down, right? But he cuddled and purred and probably saved my next 12-24 hours.

Well, now Rhapsody needs help. He's been having scary episodes of respiratory distress and has spent time in the kitty ER. The kitty ER, like the human ER, is both expensive and for stabilization purposes only. In order to figure out exactly what is wrong and to treat it, Rhapsody needs an alveolar wash. And he needs it as soon as possible-without it, there is no knowing what is wrong, and the respiratory crises are scary and one could be fatal.

And this, my friends, other readers, cat lovers, is where you come in:

If you can afford to donate, follow the instructions in this facebook note.


It is very important that you mark that it is for Rhapsody. Otherwise the funds go into a general fund, which is a worthy cause but will not go to this particular worthy cause.

Please 'like' Moosepuppy Animal Rescue and share, as well as the event 24 hour fundraising push for Rhapsody. And share share share.

Tweet, tumbl, facebook, please spread the word. I know that for many of you disposable income is not a thing-but someone in your network might be able to help.

Purkinje & GABA are hoping Rhapsody gets the treatment he needs:

Guest blog-Smother Autism? Are you fucking serious?

This is a guest blog from occasional contributer Gen Eric. I lend my blog sometimes as a platform for other Autistics to say things that need to be said and heard. I appreciate Gen Eric writing on such a triggering topic, so that I do not have to.

 

TW for abuse, ableism, murder, behaviorism

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2013/04/01/illegal-petes-launches-sm_n_2992080.html?utm_hp_ref=denver

A Colorado-based Mexican Restaurant is asking it's customers to help “smother autism.” No, you did not fucking read that wrong. “Illegal Pete's” promises to donate a dollar for every “smothered burrito”(apparently this is a Colorado thing) purchased this April to the Joshua School, an ABA facility. We will leave aside for this post the racism of the name, and get down to celebrating the cruelest month in style.

The school's website www.joshuaschool.org reveals a pretty standard-issue ABA program. That in and of itself is harder to criticize without more knowledge: partially because the terms they use are almost scarily vague; and partially because ABA is the Borg of autism “treatments,” assimilating anything that can be called teaching or therapy under its own heading. Like all ABA practitioners they have their cultlike zeal for terms like “evidence based” and “clinically proven,” but if you want a proper thorough takedown of ABA, read The Misbehaviour of Behaviourists by Michelle Dawson. It does seem like their near-exclusive focus on normalization at Joshua School is depriving their students of any kind of actual education (you know, that thing schools are supposed to provide), and their site also talks about “children age 6-21,” making it clear that they see grown godfuckingdamned adults as children by virtue of their disability.

I don't know how many of you attended vigils for Autistic and otherwise-disabled people murdered by parents and caregivers, but it's a lot. And it seems like one of the most jolly-fucking-common ways to do it is smothering. Autistics are smothered all the time: at home; in institutions; in schools. Hell, I came dangerously close to being one of them, and if I hadn't been able to make out the words “I can't fucking breathe you asshole,” I might not be here today (a simple “I can't breathe” was ignored). In case you were wondering, our killers typically get off with, at most, a slap on the wrist. The language of combat/war/attacking/killing/smothering autism absotively posilutely emboldens the next would-be murderer.

When confronted about this, Illegal Pete's will go on and on about their “good intentions.” Yeah, not fucking good enough, road to hell and all that lovely shit. Raising money, even if this was a good cause (which it does not seem to be), would still not justify a title that belittles actual abuse and murder of our people. And raising the all-holy “awareness” is not only unproductive but counterproductive for our actual interests. In case you were living on another planet for the past few decades, awareness kills, and every time you raise awareness of how horrible our neurology is, and how we are evil changelings that stole someone's real child, you make the world that much more dangerous for us. And if that wasn't your intent, and you really weren't aware that “smothering autism” is one of the most problematic things you could ever say (even though The Google is totes a thing), the only appropriate response when confronted about it is “oh shit, we didn't know, let's fix it.”

Autistics get smothered on a regular basis, and making an event title that belittles it in that way (and don't even mention your intentions; your explanation is heard and rejected) is unfuckingacceptable.

Tone It Down Taupe this April!

As we all know, April is Autism Awareness Month, the month of Light It Up Blue! and alarmist rhetoric 'for autism'. In the spirit of this, Judy Endow posted this picture:

[image is a white box with an arrow pointing to the upper left hand corner. Text reads "I heart someone lacking autism"]

What followed was a discussion of how we need awareness of those who lack autism and how different their experiences are. A man who lacks autism thanked us for acknowledging his plight and requested more awareness. We need ribbons. We need a walk. Lia suggested we

TONE IT DOWN TAUPE

for those lacking autism.

About the ribbon:

It is taupe (or tan. Or beige. A non offensive, non obtrusive color) to symbolize the toned-down sensory and emotional experiences of those lacking autism.

[img is a standard rectangular pin back attached to a beige ribbon]

The eyes represent the incessant demands for eye contact from people lacking autism.

The large size represents the size of the epidemic. 49 in 50 people lack autism! Help us find a cause! Help us develop more effective therapies! Help us integrate those lacking autism into a functional society with autistic people!

This campaign, while sounding a bit silly, is also a bit serious. Tone it down. Tone down the fear rhetoric. Tone down the alarmism. It is not necessary to light anything blue to show support and love for an autistic individual-that can be accomplished by, well, actually supporting autistic people. This is an opportunity to actually raise awareness and educate people: when they ask what that giant ribbon is for, we can explain why we are toning it down taupe, that fear rhetoric hurts real people, and that what autistic people want is not to be fixed, not to be prevented, but to be given the supports we need to be part of society. It's a way to make people think.

Would you like to Tone It Down Taupe with your very own ribbon? Lia has been making some and made a tutorial for those of us capable of making our own:

You will need:

-Taupe/beige/tan ribbon. Something neutral. The ribbon in the pictures is 1" wide.

-Scissors

-A ruler (if you want precise measurements)

-Googly eyes

-A pin back, or a button if a pin back isn't something you can make work

-A hot glue gun with glue

1. Cut a length of ribbon. For a large one like we are making here, cut 11". Cut the ends to points.

[img is an 11" length of beige ribbon stretched next to a ruler]

2. Fold the ribbon into a big "awareness" loop. Ours here is about 1.5" between the points. Play with the ribbon & make a shape that you find pleasing.

[img is the same beige ribbon crossed over itself into a large loop, awareness ribbon style, next to a ruler]

3. Then hot glue it into place where the ribbon crosses itself. Our ribbon crossed itself 3" from the end. Allow to cool & dry.

[img is a closeup of a beige ribbon next to a ruler. There is a dot of hot glue on the ribbon at the 3" mark]

4. Place 2 dots of hot glue where the ribbon crosses itself. These are for the googly eyes-have them ready!

[img is a closeup of a beige ribbon in an awareness loop. There are 2 dots of hot glue where it crosses itself]

5. Press googly eyes into the hot glue dots you just made. Again, allow to cool and dry.

[img is a closeup of a beige ribbon in an awareness loop. There are 2 googly eyes where it crosses itself]

6. Find the pinback or button you are going to use. Put hot glue on it.

[img is a standard rectangular pinback with hot glue on it]

7. Press the pinback or button or what have you onto the back of the ribbon in whatever direction is most useful for you.  Ours is horizontal, but the ribbon is large enough for the same pin back to be vertical as well. A small button will also fit. Allow to dry.

[img is a standard rectangular pin back attached to a beige ribbon]

8. TONE IT DOWN TAUPE! 

[img is beige ribbon with googly eyes, attached to a rectangular pin back]

If you would like to Tone It Down Taupe, but do not have the spoons or other skills to make your own, Lia has graciously offered to make them & send them out. Email her at krystinesha (at) gmail (dot) com and she will set you right up.

with thanks to Lia  and Judy Endow for the brainstorming, and Lia for the craftery as well

You don't get to do that here.

In response to able people behaving badly, I'm going to clarify some things about how it does-or more accurately, how it doesn't-work around here. You might get to beat people over the head with your privilege everywhere else, but around here, that does not fly. Here, I am the baseline for normal, and the views and safety of me and mine are paramount. Let's look at what that means.

So you can waltz in here. Or prance. Or skip. Or roll. I really don't care what means of locomotion you use. But after you get here?

-You may not demand a free education. This is not a 101 level blog. Clearly  you  have internet. Google your questions. Otherwise everything I tell you is at my whim. My tutoring rate starts at $20/hour and goes up from there, depending on subject and difficulty dealing with the client. If you want guaranteed 1 on 1 education, you can pay for it.

-You really may not demand a free education in the tone you want it in. Absolutely not. Shit, even if you're paying for it I snark and swear. My first language model is a snarker & I am echolalic as fuck. That's just how I talk. Suck it up, buttercup. My blog, my words, my rules.

-You may not make any demands whatsoever about tone or "civility". That is a silencing tactic. No silencing tactics in my house. If you do not have a real argument, then you don't have to say anything. "You are angry and mean and swearing!" is not news, nor is it a bad thing. You'd be angry too. "Civility" is the last refuge of the privileged when they're scared that they're losing their privilege, and I don't think you need to have all that special treatment.

-You may not be the language police (this is a corollary of the above). I know I have a potty mouth. I don't care. I know many of my commenters can articulately swear. You don't get to decide that we don't have to swear just because we can put words together pretty. That's both an access issue and another flight to privileged bullshit. I will not have it.

-Your ableist shit? It will not fly. I intend to write more about this later, but refusing to acknowledge someone's access needs is every bit as ableist as slurs or talking to someone like they're 4. Don't fucking do that. If someone has an access need & you refuse to abide by it, & they misunderstand you or whatever, you don't get to cry about it. You fucked up.

-Defending ableist shit? Also will not fly. Even giving the impression that you are defending ableist shit will not fly. So if you're "misunderstood" because you're ignoring access needs and look like you're defending ableist garbage? That's kind of your problem.

-Corollary: The devil doesn't need any advocates. If you're "playing devil's advocate" and defending ableist shit, I am inclined to believe that at least part of you believes the trash you are spewing.

-Ultimately moderating decisions are mine alone. If you're doing any of the above things, I'll probably let it through, because I do think the world needs to see what shitheaded crap I deal with on a daily basis-but I will not shield you from much that other people respond with. Just about the only things that I don't let through are dox dropping and detailed 'go kill yourself'-especially when I am out of spoons from dealing with able folks behaving badly.

-Do not put words in my mouth. I will swear. I will say your behavior is shitty, ableist, and fractally wrong. It is very rare indeed that I call a person any one thing. If I tell you to fuck off, it will be in those words. And especially do not do this and then get all whiny that I summarize you. Do not be a fucking hypocrite (see? There's me calling people a thing. Enjoy.)

-Here, you are not the arbiter of acceptable. I am. You follow my social conventions here. You may swear. You may not be oppressive. It's really that simple.

Autistic people are...strong

This is a post for the flashblog in response to google's autofill suggestions to complete the query "autistic people are". Clearly they need some better ideas, since what is there now is offensive and horrific.

You know the saying "what doesn't kill you makes you stronger"? Well, if that's true (which I will debate another time), autistic people are the baddest asses around.

Autistic people are born into a world that doesn't want us. Even if we don't have a diagnosis, we know from a very early age that who we are is not who those around us want us to be.

If we are not diagnosed, we go through torture, only they call it bullying and say if we don't want to be bullied we'll act normal. If we are diagnosed, we go through torture, only they call it therapy, and say it is to help us act normal.

And yet here we are. Here we are standing strong, together, saying we are people, we are worthy as we are, and we do not deserve to be hated just for being.

Autistic people are strong. We endure. We are resilient. We may take damage, yet here we stand, even so. We may have come through bruised and broken, but still we stand, and still we stand fighting.

Because we are strong.

We are so strong, that here we stand together against google and against a huge majority-we're only 1 in 88, after all, and many of our number old enough to have blogs don't know the word "autism" applies to them, or they don't have access to computers because of poverty or because they live in institutions. So here we stand, a tiny minority of the population, with precious few allies who belong to the majority, saying "you need to stop this".

Because we, Autistic people, are incredibly, amazingly, strong.

A thank you to my basketball coach. Or, sports inclusion for realsies.

So I am writing this in reaction to this godsawful inspiration porny video that's going around. I'm not linking to it because I will not have that filth on my blog. Basically, a high school basketball coach put in the team manager, who has an intellectual disability, and every damn person on the court-his team and not his team-passed him the ball until he made a basket.

This is not inspiring. This is not inclusion. This is patronizing and yuck.

So, I feel compelled to write about middle school basketball. Yep, I played team sports in 6th-8th grade: basketball, volleyball, and soccer. But I am going to focus on basketball because that is the sport of the day, and because that is the sport where I think the school's coach did it best.

My mom really wanted me to be good at standard sports, so in 6th grade-middle school sports were no cut-she signed me up for basketball. And. I was shit awful. I wasn't exactly afraid of the ball; it's big and orange so I can get out of the way. I couldn't really catch yet, the ball didn't always go exactly where I threw it, I had that kind of autistic quality to my movement in that I'd get where I was going but look funny doing it. I could in theory make a basket. Sometimes. Ish.

Really? The beginning of my first season? The only things I had going for me as a player were that I could get from one end of the court to the other faster than average and I had no fear of being run over by larger players.

And Coach C could have decided to not play me, or to give me some patronizing role, but he didn't. I ran all the drills. I ran suicides. I ran three person weave (a passing drill). I learned all the fancy ways to dribble. I played more games of Horse and Knockout than I can imagine. We shot freethrows. We scrimmaged.

And you know what? In 6th grade? I kind of totally sucked. I made a few baskets, but my primary role was getting rebounds and being another warm body on the court between the opponent and the basket. 

But I worked hard in practice. I was part of the team. I was weird. I needed different directions sometimes. There are things I couldn't do, and we were all aware of that; I'm really short to have been a forward and a center rather than a guard. I just don't have that particular skillset. But Coach C worked within my skillset. I was considered competent. I learned the skills. We had a really tall point guard who didn't have the plant-yourself-in-the-paint ability I did. She is able. That's what you do as a coach-you work with your athlete's abilities.

And then a funny thing happened. In 7th grade? I was a starter. Yeah, that's right, the kid who couldn't dribble a year ago was starting. Because I was competent. Because I was part of the team. The buzzer went off & my hands were over my ears, but I was part of the team. Halfway through the season I sometimes stayed to play in the 8th grade games as well-small school meant small teams & that was allowed. I scored every seventh grade game I played in, as I recall, and in one 8th grade game. I even scored a basket when half our team fouled out & we only had 3 left on the court.

Eighth grade? I started. Usually I jumped, even. As a team we sucked, honestly, what with being a combined 7th-8th team of I think 8 players. But I had improved as an individual. By the end of my basketball career, I legitimately had basketball skills. I can dribble between my legs, shot 85% on freethrows, all that jazz. No one who saw me on the court would question that I was an athlete.

And if Coach C had taken the attitude towards players with disabilities that so many people take, I wouldn't have learned any of those skills. Yes, Coach C took a chance playing me in the game. He may have "wasted" coaching resources on me-but he didn't seem to think he did. He treated me like a real person, like a real athlete. He took my differences into account, but ultimately he had the same high expectations for me as for every other athlete on that team.

And that is where my problem lies with these "heartwarming" videos. There's no dignity in them. None. I may have sucked my first year of basketball, but I knew damn well that when I scored, I scored. People played defense-they saw me as enough a person to be a legitimate contender. And that's way better than being the charity case of the night. Any day.

This leaves a bad taste in my mouth because everyone conspired to be all heartwarming and charitable and shit. It's just so dehumanizing. If his team had gotten him the ball and set the mother of all picks? That would have been kinda rad. I could have lived with that. But when the other team is passing you the ball that is an insult.

In 7th grade there was a girl who knocked me down repeatedly at one game. It's just how the sport goes, you know? And she kept helping me up. And I was angry. "She doesn't even think I can get up by myself".

If she had been handing me the ball? Oh god! That would have been the one time Coach C had to treat me differently, because I would have gone absolutely ballistic. I was not 'disabled' on the court. I was another player, and wanted to be treated as such.

I am so, so glad that I did sports in a tiny little league that had no choice but to actually play me, with a coach who had the philosophy that hard work is more important than natural ability. I don't want to be anyone's feel good story for a moment. I learned real skills, I was part of a team, and that felt way better for way longer. I won't ever look back and wonder about them passing me the ball-I know it wasn't motivated by pity or some feel good thing. It was because I was their teammate, I was open, and I had developed skills with them.

So, thanks, Coach C. I'm no one night wonder inspiration superstar. And I thank you for it. Thank you for letting me be just another player instead of a vehicle for some feel good garbage.

Autistic people should flashblog

This post is part of today’s “Autistic People Should” flash blog where Autistic bloggers are writing about positive things that Autistic people should do. Why? Because if you type “Autistic people should” into either Google or Bing’s search engine query box, the autocomplete results–the most popular searches starting with those words–are disturbing and upsetting, especially if you’re Autistic or love someone who is. 

Autistic people should...

be heard.

We say things. Those things? They should have a platform. That platform should get equal time to the things people say about us, if not greater time.

be listened to.

Not only should the words we say be given air time, but people should give them consideration. People should take them onboard instead of dismissing them out of hand. Our communication, whatever form it takes, should be taken as valid.

be understood.

Take the time to figure out what we mean. Understand meaning, not style. You don't have to grok every facet to understand what we mean. I don't have to understand deep in my soul what it is to be a musician to understand that not all of the "same instrument" are the same. Just so, you don't need to know with every fiber of your being how I feel when I spin to accept that it does great things for me. You don't need to 100% grok to understand, I promise.

be embraced.

We are valuable members of our families and our communities. Treat us as such.

be welcomed.

When you see us in your community, be a source of welcome. Be that source of light, be that safe space. Be that warmth in the scary, cold world. Show us that the world isn't always horrible. We have a lot to offer. So do you. Bring us into communities like you know we're real people.

be able to live a life without fear. 

I have written about fear, recently. The fear we all live in. It shouldn't be that way. This flashblog is a response to yet another thing that proves we have a lot to fear. It should not be that way. Not at all. But you, and I, and everyone, we can make it better. You, yes you, can help reshape this world to how it should be.

Autistic people should live life fully, fearlessly, and wonderfully. Make it so.