Awareness Again – Can’t we do Better?

It’s April, again. Autism Awareness Month. Now that autism numbers are estimated at 1 in 88, shouldn’t we already be aware? Shouldn’t we as a society be moving on?

Moving on beyond awareness means learning about each other, neurotypical or on the autism spectrum. Even under the old numbers of 1 in 166, the estimates indicated so many children and adults with autism that “normal” needed redefinition.

Awareness, people, is not enough. Awareness is a low form of knowledge, and knowledge itself sits down low at the base of the learning pyramid. Awareness means knowing that the student sitting next to your child in class might have autism. Knowledge and understanding come around when that child responds to gestures of friendship, perhaps awkwardly, yet making a step toward joining the social peer group in some way.

Awareness? Awareness means slapping a multi-colored puzzle-design ribbon magnet on the back of the family minivan. Understanding means that when the minivan next to yours at the red light is moving back and forth propelled by the rocking of the teenager in the front seat, you notice but don’t judge. You might offer an understanding smile to the driver if the opportunity comes up. By refraining from negative comments, a parent provides a role model for the rest of the minivan passengers.

The “R” word is also still active, unfortunately. The word Retarded hasn’t been in active use for educational professionals in decades, but it still turns up in verbal put-downs. Awareness means knowing the label Retarded is unacceptable. Knowledge and comprehension would show that anyone with limitations in learning faces enough challenges without getting their diagnosis tossed around as a playground insult.

I wore my “R” Word t-shirt on the appropriate day. That’s my awareness activity. To bring it to a higher level, I vow to stop and comment when I hear the word used: stop and educate those who would otherwise redefine a person in narrow boxes.

Now it’s time to take Autism Awareness to a higher level, too.

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The Holiday Roller Coaster finds a Level Track

We, the whole family, have been on a roller coaster of emotions in the last month. This is one of those roller coasters that turned us upside down, swung our feet in the air, brought our stomachs to our throats and then suddenly dropped them down again. Then came a holiday weekend.

We decided to keep it simple. No travel, no major dinners, no large family gatherings.. Comfort food. Relaxation.

Chuck, the family Iron Chef, agreed on keeping it simple. He planned to get out the grill, weather permitting, and create a surf and turf. I baked a plain yellow cake in two rounds, and then Chuck made it into a bunny shape. Amigo enlisted La Petite and her friend to dye eggs. And that, my friends, was plenty.

Bunny!

Bunny!

Sometimes the best way to handle a potentially stress-filled weekend is to simply step away from the madness. We took a collective deep breath, said No to anything complex, and took care of ourselves.

That, my friends, is priceless.

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Art Unexpected

You never know what kind of artistry will turn up at the O.K. Chorale. Easter brought a cake of Chuck’s design.

Bunny!

Bunny!

Bunny! Bunny!

Bunny! Bunny!

La Petite and Amigo and company colored eggs.

Eggs-actly perfect

Eggs-actly perfect

La Petite and company created a Jackson Pollock inspired work using the melting snow and the egg dye.

Performance Art, Ever Changing

Performance Art, Ever Changing

Easter was entertaining. I wonder what Mother’s Day will bring?

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The Back Story in Storage

Chuck enjoys watching Storage Wars. I have mixed feelings. The “stuff” they find can be fascinating, and yet – these collections of stored possessions once belonged to someone, someone who  cared enough to stash their possessions in a “safe” place. I always wonder about the back story on the abandoned units.

Tonight a unit contained a small kiln and a pottery wheel, neither looking very used. Did an artist make the investment and then have a financial disaster? Medical crisis? Self-employed artists aren’t known for having good health insurance coverage. Job loss? Maybe the day job that paid the rent fell through, downsized, or went out of business. Loss of space, home? That’s possible, too. A pottery wheel and kiln wouldn’t fit into a homeless shelter or transitional housing very well. There’s no way to know, and I wonder.

Another unit contained a unique set of tools for ice carving.The ice carving tools looked nearly new and must have cost the original purchaser a fair amount of money. An investment in their future, they may have thought at the time, never dreaming the tools would be lost due to non-payment on a padlocked storage facility.

This episode could have been nicknamed “Picking up the remains from the starving, broke artists.” Two artists: one with clay and the other with ice, both lost or broke or homeless or all three. The show’s premise, making money off of another’s misfortune, just isn’t sitting well with me. I can’t keep a potter or ice carver in business, but I can continue to appreciate and buy from local artists. And most of all, I can stop watching this depressing show.

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Re-calibrating

Life changes all too quickly, it seems. Amigo moved home from his training program early and unexpectedly. Now we are searching for other training opportunities so he can enter the working world and be a productive young adult. We have a few leads, and the whole family is re-calibrating and setting forth on a new route.

Teaching in Wisconsin is insecure at best. In the current political climate, none of us are certain if or where we’ll be teaching in the near future, much less the long term. Talks at the lunch table and coffeepot reflect this.

On one hand, I continue to seek out opportunities to teach summer school. I attended an online meeting Friday that explained a lot of the ins and outs and details of teaching online summer school. La Petite, if I get hired, your old room converts totally to office space.

On another hand, a coworker suggested I sign up to review books written for young readers. Every time I review, we get a set of books free. As I submitted my first review, I noticed a check box on the form asking “Are you interested in writing children’s books?” I checked yes. The response was “Please call!” with a phone number.

But on the other hand (teachers have many hands), the latest virus (human, not computer) caused a persistent cough that led to laryngitis.

Re-calibrating! I sent a return email saying I’d call as soon as I could speak and included a potential project idea. At the very least, it will be fun. Even if it’s only a few bucks, the exposure will be priceless.

 

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Nothing to see here, folks, nothing to see or hear.

Sorry for the sorry posts, blog-reading peoples. It’s been both physically and emotionally exhausting around here. A few random updates, maybe.

My television interview for school PR probably didn’t air. My feeling is that it won’t. PR rep claims it already did. I’m okay with it either way.

My cough echoes at least two others in my little cubicle world. I think we’re all coughing a little less. I think. Maybe. Picture me grasping onto straws of hope. 

Three – not one, but three – teachers sent out emails saying their virtual class attendance had disappeared from the printer. My theory: these papers are hiding out with the mismatched socks that disappear from the dryer on laundry day.

Meanwhile, I saw yet another great PR piece for punctuation. Petunia, I know which will be your favorite.

Comma chameleon?

Comma chameleon?

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Signs of Home

You might be in my home if you see a pile of shoes and an overflowing bookshelf. There will be a laptop computer nearby, too. The refrigerator contains several jars of home-canned goodies such as pickles and jams and applesauce and… I’m hungry.

Any place Amigo lives, a singing fish is likely to follow.

In a corner of La Petite’s apartment —

Bitty Bear is a traveler!

Note: since I took this picture, La Petite stenciled birds on the wall in the corner. It’s lovely. The ballooning bear must be very content. 

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Life changes all too quickly.

I’m fighting a virus. Bronchial cough, cold, headache, and exhaustion all together in one package. This is the first major illness since I left the contagion that is regular public school to teach virtual. Based on that, Chuck thinks it’s a computer virus. Ha. Ha. Cough.

My television interview might finally air locally. I’m not sure what angle the reporter will take; she seemed to be a bit scattered. I think I sent her in the direction of the PR that we really wanted, rather than focusing on me.

Amigo is coming home. The Hogwarts program is excellent, but he is simply not fully ready to live and cope on his own. It’s heart wrenching for all of us.

Laundry. These usual chores don’t go away, even when the world is spinning in reverse. I’m sitting next to the humidifier while the washer spins.

Parent-teacher conferences happen this week. At our school, we put in the hours, but we meet or call very few parents. Why? We are in touch with them regularly as it is. Our virtual school’s structure increases communication with students and parents. It’s one of my favorite parts of teaching at WCA.

Meanwhile, I’m looking for comfort food. Chicken soup, perhaps, to soothe the body and all of our aching souls.

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