>An open letter to Oprah and her producers

>Dear Oprah and colleagues;
Thank you for making a contribution to Autism Awareness Month by featuring families of autistic children on your show on Thursday. An hour show has only a little time, and yours opened the window on autism for many viewers.
However, I have some concerns.
I am a mother of a teenager with Asperger’s Syndrome, a diagnosis on the high end of the autism spectrum. I am also the cousin of a more severely autistic adult. And I fill yet another role: that of classroom teacher who has taught several students on the spectrum. Based on my life experiences, both personal and professional, I saw some major holes in the production.

  • The opening was definitely produced with the goal of tear-jerker rather than presenting facts. Facts and concepts can provide dramatic television while providing the audience with knowledge that leads to comprehension.
  • Background knowledge, including your own, seemed to only scratch the surface.
  • Guests and experts were primarily from the Chicago area, and therefore the group was limited in scope.
  • The show didn’t talk about or feature a range of people on the spectrum.
  • Featured guests were parents, not older adults or teens with autism.

As we say in public education, perception is reality. Your show guides perception for many millions of people in the United States. Please consider the points above for future productions. With your opportunities for educating the public, you can expand the perception of autism to include much more reality.

On behalf of many parents, teachers, and people with autism, thank you for your time.

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>Breaking up is hard to do

>A Head Start director once distributed posters that said, “Change is our friend.” In smaller letters, it proclaimed, “Posting is mandatory.” Yes, she had a sense of humor. Change was the norm in her realm, and facing it with a smile was one way to handle the many changes that were thrown her way on a daily basis.
Change can be difficult. It’s not always possible to face it with a smile. I am leaving my current job for a different one next fall. I hope it’s for the better. I still have misgivings, but leaving is the right thing to do. I should have done this sooner, but you know about “shoulds”. In leaving my job, I’m leaving some of the best friends and closest professional colleagues I’ve known. Ever.
In spring of 2002, we started graduate school together. We were nicknamed the Fab Five, all five of us from the same school in the same district. We carpooled to classes and got to know each other during the 45 minute drive each way. By the time we finished the intense program in fall of 2003, we were bonded for life.
On our last weekend of classes, the weekend we presented our final projects, we came out of lunch to find the car pool van full of helium balloons. This forced us (kicking and screaming, of course) to take this picture. We’ve displayed it in each of our classrooms ever since.
Last October, mine fell from the wall behind my desk, shattering the glass cover. I cleaned it up, vowed to get a new frame, and secretly fought back the superstitious thought that this might be a bad omen.
Omen or not, I picked up a new position. With the support of my Fab Friends, I will pack up my classroom and move across town come June. Despite our distance, I know they’ll still be there for me.
Amy, whose loving and generous son picked out balloons and wrote us each congratulations cards, even though he was only in second grade.
Sara, she of the best and funniest camping stories, now a survivor first class after her battle with breast cancer.
Julie, the calm and cool one, the one who traded classrooms with me when I couldn’t do stairs after my foot surgery.
Dawn, she of the musical laughter, the most talented teacher I’ve ever met. She truly has the Midas touch.
Oh, yes, and I can’t forget how the banana, wearing Sara’s boa, got strategically hung on Dawn’s door with Julie’s and Amy’s help. If I get too serious, these ladies might just post a banana on my door — or fill my room with deer droppings once again.

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