Mothers' Day

We win.
No one knows it but us.

But we do.

We are the parents of kids with disabilities who get to see the true value of our children. Though it can hurt, we get past what we thought our children would become. Though it’s painful, we get beyond whatever society decides what our children can or can’t do. And, no matter what we used to think, we stand up to build the life our children need, want and deserve.

We go beyond our past ideas, to the gift of the child that is. Our world view explodes... and then expands.

We struggle. We worry. Sometimes we rage. Sometimes we cry.

And…

We are the lucky ones.

We get to know miracles. We know just exactly what it takes to learn. We know just how many muscles must respond to make a person able to walk or talk. We know just how the process of language unfolds and what it really means when it works or when it doesn’t. Reading, writning and arithmetic are more than assumptions for us.

We get to figure out what really matters. We know about justice (and injustice.) We know stuff we never thought we would or could.

We treasure moments.

And, no matter what society sees or understands, we know that love is not about ability or response to intervention or any other standard or value. We know the meaning of and the reasons for ‘fierce.’

We change the world.

Unconditional is us.

It's not easy, but we get to see behind the curtain.

We are challenged. We are stressed. We fight like tigers and sometimes we are frazzeled to the bone.

And we are blessed.

Happy Mothers’ Day to all of us!

Movie Review: Wretches and Jabberers

Larry Bissonnette, Jenn and I

I know it is the month of Down syndrome awareness, but I hope you will indulge me a few minutes discussion of the WONDERFUL, EXCELLENT movie I had the opportunity to see this weekend.

The movie, Wretches and Jabberers, premiered this weekend at the Syracuse International Film Festival so Jenn and I went on a roadtrip to see it.

It was directed by Gerardine Wurzbur who also co-produced it with Douglas Bilken, PhD from Syracuse University (and the marketing director is a NYS Partners in Policymaking grad, Jennifer Russo!) It tells the story of two men who have Autism, Larry Bissonnette and Tracy Thresher. The two men were believed to be unable to communicate until adulthood when they both learned to type. The movie chronicles their trip to three countries, Sri Lanka, Japan and Finland, where they go to share their message that there is more inside people with disabilities than the world knows.

The movie is totally engaging from beginning to end.

The paradox and the challenge of autistic behaviors that obscure the wit and humor, depth of feeling, and sense of connection (yes, you read that right--conection!) these men express, is by turns fascinating, tragic and, as a disability advocate, envigorating.

Every moment was interesting. Each person's daily life, the interactions with the men who provide communication support, the challenges of new countries, customs and foods, the absolute hunger for connection of the young people with autism in the other countries each could have been their own movie. The humor... the art... the poetry... the advocacy. Endless layers of meaning.

I can think of about a thousand telling examples to share, but I will give you two:

In Finland Larry, Tracy, their team, two students with autism, their parents and a translator went out to dinner. This meant there were four people communicating by typing on their computers and then handing them to the translator to be read in both languages. Many people would decide that this was too much trouble. This crowd was undaunted. Hearing each other was just so important.

Another favorite moment was a conversation between Tracy and Larry. They were sitting on a bench typing to each other. Tracy wrote that he was enjoying the friendship and fellowship of being together on this once-in-a-lifetime journey. Larry replied, "Feasting on my friend's company I store up memories."

I wrote this down--I want to write it on my wall.

Breath-taking!

There is so much more in this film that could be explored: spirituality, civil rights, homelessness and beyond. How they packed so much into a 90 minute movie and left me wanting more I do not know. This is why they are filmmakers and I blog!

The movie was followed by a panel discussion that included Doug Biklen, Ph.D., Larry Bissonnette, Pascal Cheng, Harvey F, Lavoy, Tracy Thresher, Gerardine Wurzburg and was moderated by Lakshmi Singh a newscaster from NPR. The insights, humor and fascination continued in real time!

I was also impressed by the accessibility. I noted sign language interpretation, real-time captioning and Write Out Loud. The event was welcoming for a wide spectrum of people--very profesionally done.

During the panel discussion Gerardine Wurzburg announced that the soundtrack from the movie will be available soon--trust me, this is a good thing! They had original music, much of which came from things Larry and Tracy typed. And they were sung by such people as Ben Harper, Judy Collins and Norah Jones.

In the panel discussion Larry wrote that they were meant to be movie stars and walk red carpets to share their message.

And either in the movie or in the panel discussion (I can't recall which) Tracy wrote that he and Larry could become a sideshow, but that their goal was to go beyond being a sideshow to get out the message that all people should presume competence.

This is a story of AND.

"Severe" Autism AND Relationships.

Behaviors AND Intellect.

External Challenges AND Interior Depth.

Needs to be met AND Gifts to share. 

AND it is a thing of beauty.

Bring it to your town, you will be glad you did.

Reluctant Book Review Because My Silence Will NOT Protect You!

I admit I am nervous about writing this post. I know that this is a topic that makes a lot of people uncomfortable. And I know the spam this post will draw is bound to upset me... But this is a topic that is just too important to avoid.

The Book: Teaching Children with Down Syndrome about Their Bodies, Boundaries and Sexuality: A Guide for Parents and Professionals by Terri Couwenhoven, MS.

Yes, I am going there!

Safe and appropriate knowledge and behaviors regarding our bodies and our sexuality are necessary for anyone to be successful and happy in this world. Yet a number of factors often work together to deny this essential information from being successfully taught to people with Down syndrome.

Many people believe that people with cognitive disabilities are eternal children therefore teaching appropriate boundaries, etc doesn't matter... others believe that information about sexuality and relationships is just too complex for someone with Down syndrome to learn. Then there are myths like the one that people with Down syndrome can't be taught safe boundaries because something in them makes them hug (ugh!!!)

That's right, it's a myth.

There are also circumstances related to disability that create what the author calls 'altered scripts.' For example, your non-disabled children learn about privacy because once they become independent, adults no longer go with them into the bathroom, for example. A child that needs assistance with hygiene tasks longer, or always, does not learn about privacy the same way or in the same timeframe as other children.

And, let's face it, it can be really uncomfortable to read about the particulars about things like intercourse in relation to our children, and terrifically difficult to think about teaching these and the more abstract sexuality concepts to someone who is a more concrete thinker or who needs a lot of support to learn.

But none of this makes avoiding sexuality education acceptable.

A lack of correct information--or any information at all--about how their bodies work or how to take care of themselves, how to seek attention and how or when not to, and how to say 'no' can have terrible consequences. People who do not learn to appropriate behaviors and boundaries can end up completely isolated, can be negatively labelled, abused or can even be arrested. This is tragic and largely preventable.

This book is both overwhelming and excellent. It is overwhelming because it becomes clear early on that ABSOLUTELY EVERYTHING you have ever done, taught or modelled (on purpose or not) has an effect on your child's understanding of these materials! It also makes you realize how important correct information about the body, sexuality and relationships is to having a happy, healthy life.

The book is excellent because each chapter breaks down an important topic into manageable chunks. Each chapter has a combination of background information, a number of concepts to think about and teach, teaching strategies, activity suggestions and stories from the author about people's experiences. There are chapters on the body itself that include teaching names for body parts and teaching hygiene, chapters on puberty, developing relationship skills, privacy, dating and more. And there are helpful hand-outs in the appendix that can be copied to support many of the chapters.

I like the way the book addresses concrete things like how to trouble-shoot issues with hygiene AND more abstract concepts like "how to tell if someone is not interested in you." The book talks about how to have a healthy relationship and how to avoid and handle exploitave situations. It doesn't minimize or avoid the challenge or the necessity of teaching any of this information. The author has a daughter with Down syndrome herself and years of experience teaching sexuality and her understanding really shows.

In one respect I think that every parent of a child with Down syndrome would benefit from this book. I think parents of younger children would benefit from having a big-picture view of where seemingly little things like lack of privacy and indiscriminate hugging can lead and some tips for addressing these things early.... In all honesty though, if this book had been available when my daughter was younger it would have sat unopened on my shelf. So much of the book is geared toward older children--and so many of the topics are things that NO parent considers very deeply for their small children that it would have remained on my 'manana mountain' for a long time. (I do think that parents of younger kids could use an introductory level book to start them on the right road though. And if the author writes one I want you all to remember that it was my idea!)

I think that by the time your child is 8-10 years old this book is extremely helpful and pertinent. That will seem early to some, but as Ms. Couwenhoven says, "Puberty happens in all people, whether we are ready or not!"  Better to be ready, I say!

By the same token, I don't think it is ever too late to start to use some of the information in this book. Life is a process and better understanding of self and relationships would enhance anyone's life at any time. Parents and professionals working with teens will find this book an ideal resource, and those working with adults will find lots of helpful information as well.

Read author Terri Couwenhoven's Top 10 Questions on Down Syndrome and Sexuality.

I Hear Quacking

You may have heard this saying before: If something walks like a duck and quacks like a duck, it's a duck.

I really like it. To me it's about cutting through the nonsense that people spew to distract you from their bad behavior... or to get you to sanction it... or something...

I have written before about the phrase "trust me."

Well, this week I have heard two more to add to my list of warning phrases.

The first was said by a teacher about a child whose needs are not being met in his classroom:

"But we LOVE Bobbie!"

Quack! (Then do what he needs!!)

The second?

"This isn't political."

This was said...

 in NY.

By.  A.  Politician.

I know, I couldn't stop laughing either! Quack, quack, QUACK!!!!

I don't know the ins and outs of that situation, but it seems that one net effect will be removing a large group of people with disabilities from a person-centered model of care and putting them into the medical/agency model.

The only good thing is that these people have been empowered by years of self-determination. They may be in a position to push  these agencies to drastically improve their services--I hope they will accept nothing less!

Picture by Alexander Kinks from here.

"I Do Believe, I Do Believe, I Do, I Do, I Do...."

I told you last year that after a school career that was always to some degree inclusive (at least half the day), we moved my daughter to a special education program at a special education school... This was a huge change. It was a big change for my daughter and it was a seismic shift for me!

The good news is it is going great! Jenn LOVES her school. She loves her teachers, she loves her friends, she loves everything except math (which she didn't like before either!) She loves going out on the town for social things and for work experiences. She is a cheerleader and she's active in everything they have going.

She is more independent at so many things.  She self-advocates much, much more. And she is making academic progress. It has been a very good move.

And yet...

Sometimes I feel pretty guilty about changing... and sometimes I feel completely misunderstood. One friend who has never believed in inclusion shocked me by saying "Terri used to believe in inclusion, but now she's seen the light!"

GRRRRR!! And all I could do was stammer and stutter ineffectually finally coming up with with, "Nu-unh!"

(So there!)

Can I have a do-over? Please?

First of all, more than I have ever believed in inclusion, I believe in choice and individualization.


Secondly, I absolutely do still believe in inclusion. I have always believed that people are healthier, happier and safer when they belong, when they are known and cared about in their community. And how can one become known or cared about without being present--at the very least, visible--in that community?

This hasn't changed. Honest.

Inclusion is a process, not a religion that one can be excommunicated from (exclusion from inclusion, really??) We believe Jenn is becoming more 'includable' because of the education she is currently receiving. That's why we chose it. We absolutely will have to work harder for relationships in our community to happen for her, and we know this.

What I truly wish is that I could name and quantify the very positive things that are happening at this new school so they could be applied in other places....

Here's what I have noticed so far:

• The prevailing culture seems to be about growing the kids' world. It is much easier to build a smaller and smaller world for kids like Jenn, but that is NOT what we want. They seem to start with what she can do and then ask how could she do more. It is much more common to hear things like "she does well in small groups so let's give her lots of small group stuff."  Here they seem to say "she does well in small groups, how can we enlarge that?"
• They work hard at having a safe environment, but they are not obsessed with protection (protection is the consummate small world maker--it's also an illusion, but that's a post for another day!) They also work hard on teaching strategizing, self-advocacy and resilience. It's a good balance, I think.
• They aren't afraid of the kids' emotions. When I toured the school the principal told me "Drama is where social skills are learned!" This is the absolute truth, if you think about it! The idea of sharing is easy, sharing when you REALLY don't want to is what really matters!  Values/principles become real only through being challenged. I have to say that at our district school there were no real challenges--if Jenn had taken someone's seat or something the adults would intervene, but the kids would pretty much say it was ok... She's seen as a more of member here, I think, so she's fair game!
• They practice differentiated learning and have not yet asked me, "But why does she need to learn that..." Some kids there are much stronger academically than Jenn, and some are not and the expectation is that they will all participate in every lesson I have seen.
• They seem to take a facilitation approach instead of either 'letting her be there' or 'taking care of her.'

I do know the place isn't perfect. And Jenn has definitely experienced many of these things before...  I am just trying to analyze what I see. What are the ingredients that make a program work for you or your child?

It Doesn't Go Away... But That is OK

I talk to a bunch of parents whose kids are diagnosed with NVLD (or NLD) and because my son is 18, and because he was diagnosed when he was young (which makes us experienced), and because he is pretty successful with his accommodations in place, there are a lot of parents who see him as "cured."

Well, he's not. (And he has given me permission to tell you so.)

We went to visit a college last week. Yes, this is late, but not as late as the visit we will make this week! (The decision must be made by May 1.) We were riding in the car and started talking about the Autobahn... and, thinking I was being cute I said, "Not to be confused with Audobon..."

"Audobon?" My son asked.

"Yeah, he was an artist in the 1800s. He painted birds."

There was a really long pause...

"I... don't understand," my son said.

"You don't understand paintings of birds?"

Then he got hysterical.

Yeah. He was imagining painting ON birds.

Too funny!

He can still be a bit literal (I say this knowing that that phrase will really bug him... one of the joys of motherhood!)

And organizational skills and processing time, and handing things in, and a few other things are still a big part of the way he is. The beauty is that he knows this and has a bunch of strategies that he knows how to use to help himself.

I expect he will have some struggles related to his diagnosis at some points in his life. I also expect that he will approach them with his trademark good humor and analytical processes. I expect he will take the things he knows and apply them to the things he needs... I expect he knows how to self-advocate and will ask for help sometimes. I expect some times he will muddle for a bit. And I expect he will figure out his own way in the world...

With his disability.

This phase of life is an adventure for everyone. He does have some different issues to contend with...

And he will be fine.

Picture from here.

Love This

Oh wow! I just saw this video on this blog. And I just LOVED it. Must share!!!



So, what do you think???

The 20th Anniversary of the ADA is This Summer And Yet.....

Barbara sent me to this link. And it is appalling. A young boy who uses a walker visited the playground at The Galleria Mall in Dallas in 2010 and the security staff REMOVED HIS WALKER from the play area because it is supposedly a hazzard. (The playground equipment is NOT a hazzard, but his means of mobility IS...)

These security guards are 20 years behind in their profession. Yes, that's right--the ADA has been the law of the land for 20 years (this July.)

In Dallas, Texas (not some tiny town.)

Lovely. Who else has a chance??

So, what can we do?

• If you live in Dallas, a phone call or letter to the mall's administration letting them know that you find this unacceptable and a suggestion that all of their security guards receive training about the ADA and their responsibility in upholding it would be lovely. Bonus points for anyone who writes a letter to the editor!
• There are many Galleria Malls around the country. A call or letter to the mall administration in your city referencing this incident in Dallas and asking what sort of ADA training is required for their staff (and suggesting where they can get some if  you happen to know!)

Situations like these are why I wrote my 'manifesto' ... and they are the reason this blogger, and this blogger are in Washington this week.



Twenty years is long enough to wait for access, rights and respect. This little guy should grow up in  in a world without this blatant discrimination--and we can help.

Leave a comment if you decide to take some action!

I've Gone and Done it Now

I have written a manifesto. It's short as manifestos go... and I think fairly low on scary ramblings (edit, edit, edit!!! :)

Here it is:

I believe in the Disability Rights Community.

That is to say, I believe that disability is a natural part of the human experience that is often misunderstood by our culture and I believe in the people with disabilities and their allies who recognize that human beings are undiminished by disability. I support these people who strive for respect, recognition and rights.

We are a minority--there are very few of us.

We are extraordinarily diverse--in diagnosis, in capacity, and in interests. A linear approach where we will all take the same steps at the same time is not for us.

Yet I believe.

I believe because there is an ADA and an IDEA--there wasn't always.

I believe because the Paralympics exist--and any gets televised. More than last time (and there will be more next time, if we work on it.)

I believe because the Community Choice Act, the CLASS Act and Medicaid are all discussed in our nation's capitol.

I believe because I have seen kids and adults speak up for better treatment--for respect.

Because disability advocates met in the White House

Because movements started by people like Ed Roberts and Justin Dart continue against the odds.

There is Closed Captioning and Assistive Tech and Dragon Naturally Speaking and voice output apps for iPhones.

Do I think any (or all) of these things are ENOUGH? Are we DONE??? Have we created the situation where people with disabilities have a fair shot at a decent life throughout our land??

Umm, no.

Can I follow, jump into and address every single disability related issue? Do I even want to?

No.

But I believe. And if your work advances the understanding that ALL people with disabilities are complete human beings and full citizens NOW (not once they've jump throught some normalizing hoop), I claim that we are on the same team.

So, if you encourage moms, parent your own babies (or teens, or adults), train youth leaders, promote sports, take on the bioethicists or the lawmakers or health practitioners... (or if you are one of these!)

If you try to to improve the lives of people with disabilities one word at a time, one conversation at a time, one story or history at a time, one potluck at a time, or one protest at a time....

If you promote equity, understanding and inclusion through activism, authoring, through caregiving or on the airwaves...

If you focus on children, or teenagers, or adults or the elderly, or parents, or professionals... advocate, self-advocate, or allies...

If you work with acquired or lifelong diagnoses, if your issues are cognitive or mobility, or illness related, or if you know most about blindness, or paralysis, or amputations, or deafness, or autism, or aging--or something else entirely, I AM FOR YOU.

If you advance functiion or philosophy or legislation... from within systems or against systems...

Or any combination thereof...

I believe in you and in what you are doing!

We may never be unified, but we can unite. And where I can unite with you I will.

The world IS different for people with disabilities today than it was even 10 years ago. While our approaches may never be the same you will NEVER hear me say that you are wasting time, I will not minimize your efforts or concerns. You won't hear me call your work PC or useless. We may not always have the same priorities, but we will find ways to work together.

I am proud to be on your team and I applaud the work you are doing in this world!

That is all.

(See my blogroll for examples of all of these types of advocates!)

Note to Self: Never Read the Comments!

I read this post last week about a British woman who was shocked by a comedian's remarks about people with Down syndrome. It is a great post--she has a beautiful daughter and I really like her non-confrontational, explanatory approach.

Naturally, I couldn't stop there. I forgot myself and read the comments--and it was truly painful.

There were many comments  supportive of the woman's experience, but the rest were pretty vile.These are not folks that disagreed with her opinions, these are folks who were furious that she voiced an opinion at all. Disagreement keeps things interesting, but these people didn't say that they saw things differently, they verbally assaulted her.

First there were the folks who feel that people who don' t like something should NOT say so... have you noticed that these folks do not follow their own advice?

Then there were some who needed to blame the victim--her pain is her own fault.

Some shared the comedian's stereotypical view of people with Down syndrome.... and tried to prove themselves right (really???)

Still others made the case that if she wasn't a perfect person she had nothing to say--another group who should show us how this works by example... but they never do, do they?

Lots of forms of  "Just Shut Up!"

Ugh.

My opinion? If someone hurts you, you have the right to say both 'ouch' and 'stop it.' You do not have to just lie there and take it, whether anyone else likes it or not.

Now some might say don't just skip the comments, don't take a stand at all, but I don't agree. It may be small comfort, but there are a whole lot of people talking about disability respect today because of this event who had never thought about it 2 weeks ago...

And, while reading the comments may give you an ulcer, activism actually makes people happier.

Plus, there is a really great disability-blogging community. (We're wonderful... just ask us!)

I hope these small facts will help this mom hang tough!

Words Hit Like a Fist image from Rolling Around in my Head.

1840 Part Two

This is the post I'd have written first if I were a better person... sigh...

My son got his SAT scores this week and there is a crowd of people I should share that with--because of the help and support they gave. There were some notable stinkers who I really want to TEACH (not slap, teach!) about kids and their potential. In the beginning believers were few and far between--but remarkable--and in recent years there have been more and more.

I would start with our family--we have a large and diverse family who have always seen Tom as having potential. I know a woman with a son not unlike Tom in many ways whose family treats him... badly. We are lucky and I am grateful.

Then there was Jenn's OT. I went for quite a while with a stomach ache about why Tom couldn't zip a zipper. I had an OT in my house every week, but she was there for Jenn. One day I finally did ask and she was really helpful. Gave me some ideas, language to use when talking to professionals and strategies for building progress (lots of crawling... tunnels, etc...)

I would also have to thank the Down syndrome community because they taught us enough about living with disability that we were ready to go when Tom was diagnosed. The Advocacy Center in our town who teaches advocacy skills gave me the understanding of the systems that were available and how to access them--great allies to have!

The developmental pediatrician who evaluated him, and then took my tearful call when the literature she gave me said that my son had a sad and limited prognosis. She told me outright not to believe that. She said to use his language strengths to meet his other needs, build accommodations when needed and NEVER give up. She told me to think about what early literature said about people with Down syndrome and what they believe now... Be informed by the literature, then use that information to build the life he wants.

This developmental pediatrician moved away some years ago--wherever she is, they are lucky to have her.

I would thank Mrs. T. from one of the children's programs in our area. They used to offer little 'courses' about science: under the sea, geology, anmimals, etc. Tom loved that stuff so I put him in one that did not work AT ALL. He was with all girls and they made little pictures and crafts all class. I picked him up and he had this little wrinkle in his forehead that didn't go away for hours. I spoke with the program director who moved him Mrs. T's class because Mrs T. had an 'active teaching style' (aka WILD!) What a difference! Lots of facts, lots to do and see and touch, much to learn. Those classes turned a lightbulb on in Tom. Love of learning was ignited and has stayed with him.

While gradeschool was often frustrating there were always members of Tom's team who were believers--thank heavens! The naysayers were tough but never got the power they could have had because there were others asking questions or pointing out that he did always handle CERTAIN things fine... They kept the momentum going and I thank them.

I want to thank a guy named Bruce. He was part of a consulting group--two men who taught school and also did consulting work. They taught companies to use the potential of their worker and they taught presentation skills (probably among other things, but I really don't know.) I was at a presentation on presentation. They talked a lot about different types of learners and in one of the breaks I was having a conversation with Bruce and something he said made me think about my son. I mentioned that he was considered distractable, did terrible taking notes, etc, but then he would ace tests and frustrate his teachers to no end. He said, "Maybe he just can't produce output and take in input at the same time--see, no one talks to him when he's taking a test. Many people can't juggle."

Best thought ever! Perfect description for a kid he'd never met. Perfect timing too.

7th grade. When taking notes becomes very important. I took that back to Tom's team and that phrase set everyone free. He became one of the better students. A couple teachers even called him a favorite. (He does also have a very strong auditory memory which works in his favor.)

The school psychologist who evaluated him for his last triennial was amazing. She called me part way through testing to ask if she could do a couple more tests with Tom because she had never seen his learning pattern before--and she had already discussed this with him and he was interested too. I said sure! She gave us the best profile about Tom and his learning and thinking skills--and needs. She laid it all out for him beautifully. She told him he would have to manage things always to be successful, but that MANY portions of the world are wide open for him. She explained and answered Tom's questions--he's walked a little taller ever since.

He told me after that he always HOPED he would be ok, and BELIEVED he would, but now he thought he WAS.

Want to see your mom cry? Tell her that.

The junior high and senior high teachers in our district are also extraordinary. A lot of them read the paperwork and worry about having Tom in their class, but to a person they have all come around once they got to know him. He thinks his classes are interesting... I think they appreciate that. (He is a teenager and doesn't always make the best choices about everything, but they quickly learn the difference between a learning issue and a bad choice!)

And the special education teachers in our Junior and Senior High Schools are amazing. Tom got an IEP in 7th grade. The special ed teachers consult with his teachers and work with his accommodations. This means, among other things, that they sit for HOURS proctoring the exams where he gets extra time.

I spoke to one of them about that once and she told me that extra time doesn't help if a kid needs to know more, only if they need to produce more. And that's Tom. Processing time and the mechanics of production are slowed (though keyboarding is certainly faster than handwriting.) This teacher told me she LIKES working with Tom because when they put the accommodation in place he performs... She said that's what she went to school for.

And most of all credit goes to Tom himself. He keeps on keepin' on, no matter what people say to him, whether they work for him or against. He learns and grows and keeps going... Congrats Kid, You did good!

This is a score. Not a guarantee of an easy life or productive carreer. NVLD doesn't go away and I know that, but it is a step toward a carreer that interests Tom... and maybe a bit of a sign that some of the things we have learned along the way about NVLD have been right--at least in how they affect my son.

This and That

Last week, Jennifer approached me to tell me things that Carly, a girl from her class, was doing after school, then she would take my face in her hands to say "And not me!"

Jenn was clearly feeling left out.

At first I would comment that Carly was just a busy girl... Then I asked if Carly was doing this with her family.... Finally Jenn made me understand that there was an afterschool club that she wanted to belong to.

So we asked and Jenn is now taking part....

Excellent bit of self-advocacy, wouldn't you say?

And now for some interesting links:

This post by Stephen Drake about Writers Logjam talks about an NVLD issue that my son runs into too... As do I sometimes.

Deborah at Pipecleaner Dreams talks about the heroes she has met while parenting her kids with disabilities.

And this letter from Deborah to professionals working with her kids should be read by every young professional.

I am really enjoying seeing the Think Beyond the Label ads around the net.

And in case you think people with disabilities are the only ones working to change the language and the message that the world hears about them, they're not!

A Delicate Dance

The relationship between someone with a disability and the people who provide their support can demand some complex choreography.

Since my daughter Jenn started at her new school this year people notice a difference in her ability to converse. She participates more. People notice that she takes more turns and clarifies more when people don't understand what she said.

What changed? Mostly, I think it's that she no longer has a 1:1 aide.

Now, don't get me wrong, Jenn had wonderful, well-trained, supportive aides. They were intent on making her more independent. Their presence made TONS of experiences available to her in our public school that she would have missed without them.

Yet, while the existence of a designated support person creates lots of opportunities, it also creates a tricky relationship. This relationship must be functional if the aide is to provide effective, individualized support. However, this relationship also turns the two--supported and supporter--into a "partnership."

A partnership is a social arrangement with etiquette and expectations. It requires give and take. It's both a useful and complex situation. (And it doesn't just occur in disability, executives and their secretaries contend with these issues on some level, as do couples.)When you're working with someone who is in partnership you are not just dealing with the individual--with either individual--anymore. You are dealing with the team.

I have met people in support situations who try to negate the "partnership" dynamic. I have met a deaf woman and a blind man who instruct people who are interacting with them not to address their support staff. Ever. While the desire to keep lines from blurring and to be addressed as an individual is understandable, it is awkward for observers and almost abusive to the support person to be treated this way. Consequently, this isn't the way most partnerships function.

Others try to treat their support partners more as friends. This works great if both people are compatible and can negotiate the leading-following nature of support--if not it gets ugly.

And if the supporter is an adult and the supportee is a child the partnership can't be anything but directive. But an adult with a cognitive disability is NOT a child. Providing adequate support AND self-determination requires both intention and attention.

With Jenn her partner status presented as a subtle waiting, a slight holding back and non-ownership of her role in conversation and other situations.

There are trainings and articles on the subject (like this one) but I don't think the questions of support vs. enablement, and codependence vs. interdependence vs. supported independence ever completely go away.

Parent as Support Partner.

When the parent is the support partner the complications of both the partnering and the parenting relationship get piled on even thicker.

When I am the support person my partner should be as self-determined as possible and I am there to facilitate.

When I parent I create the stuctures and expectations for my children...

My daughter needs both of these things, and it's hard to do them both at the same time.

Sometimes it's so easy to over-support because I do know what she's saying, because I know how hard some things are for her, because I'm her mother and KNOW what's best, because I don't have an objective view of her maturity or capability, etc, etc, etc... Beyond this, keeping my support-partner hat on all the time can be stifling for both of us--knowing when or how to remove it is really difficult.

When am I a parent? When am I a partner? And what if I need something?

Recently I turned down an evening swimming program for my daughter because I would have needed to swim with her. The opportunity to swim is good for her, but swimming after supper would disrupt my sleep which I just can't afford. The program director found a volunteer to swim with her... and I still feel a little guilty.

And when do you turn off the "because I'm the mom" mojo? I have seen parents of adults with disabilities subtly and not-so-subtly direct their adult child's choices. A partner who is also mom has undue power. Should she exercise that power?

Yet, NOT being mommish, being professional and detached doesn't work either. People need their parents to be attached and parental. At least sometimes.

And how does this work with the rest of your family members?

So far this is what I try to do: I try to engineer opportunities for my daughter to run alone--in big and small ways whenever possible. When she does need a partner, I work hard to set up situations that are healthy and effective. And when I am the partner I try to keep a balance between parenting and partnering. When things get out of whack I try to change.

How do others manage the partnership dilemma?

Picture from here.

Surprise, Surprise: More R-Word

Yet another public figure resorts to maligning people with cognitive disabilities when the chips are down... there's a shock.

Two thoughts:

First, isn't it fortunate that Mr. Emmanuel chose the r-word and not the n-word or hate words about some other minority to spout when his intellect deserted him?

Political careers have ended over those.

Second, you really can't get absolution for slurs toward seven million Americans and their loved ones from Special Olympics. You just can't.

Especially without meaningful (painful!) penance.

Want absolution?

Do something that matters with the actual community you offended.

And...

Shut. Up.

You can read about the incident here, Special Olympics' response here, Arc's response here.

Unexpectedly Effective Advocacy: The Success-Experience

Since learning about my daughter’s diagnosis of Down syndrome and my son’s diagnosis of Non-Verbal Learning Disorder in the early 1990’s I have embraced advocacy skills—the skills of ‘speaking up.’ I have learned about successful advocacy through workshops, books and mentors and I have used these skills to change my kids’ personal situations, to improve systems and to promote public policies that support the recognition of the full citizenship of people with disabilities. Along the way I have picked up a few tricks that aren’t usually mentioned as advocacy skills, yet they work for me. Perhaps you will find them useful as well.


My Aunt Mary Ann, my father's oldest sister lived in our town when I was growing up. She would always say that she was my 'spinster, librarian aunt' which use to upset me to no end. It was true. She lived alone and she was a librarian, but she was also brilliant and engaged and vital, and words like "spinster" used to offend my spirit when I was young.

I would spend about a weekend a month at her house (overnight!!) Not only would she have picked out the best books in the world for me, but we would cook and sew and work on projects and snack on cranberry juice or tea and homemade cheesecake-brownies or lemon bars (or chocolate chips right out of the bag!) And she would talk to me about beliefs and ideals and her philosophies on education and more.

One weekend nothing we touched worked--sewing projects wouldn't go together, we ran out of supplies for some other project right in the middle, and the recipe we were experimenting with for dinner went up in flames. We were both miserable.

On the way to Don and Bob's (One ground round-ONE!), I said that I was surprised that we were going out.

She smiled at me and said, "Terese, what we need now is a success-experience."

Apparently this was not just her idea, but something written about in education articles at the time. The idea was that to be effective you sometimes need to prime the momentum pump with something positive.

Dinner was delicious, and I had to admit the weekend turned around--the next day's projects weren't nearly as disastrous.

This little nugget of wisdom has stayed with me ever since and it is surprising how helpful it can be--in life and in advocacy.

When my kids were little and things would go sideways, ramping things back and playing a game we were all good at, or taking on a task we knew we could conquer would put us back in the mood to try something more challenging.

It works at school and with programs as well. My friend's son demonstrates some challenging behaviors at school. When the classroom team is overwhelmed and jumping to all sorts of drastic conclusions my friend and I often brainstorm about how to make things better. At one point we chatted about success-experiences and she decided to try it. She listened hard to hear what the teachers were saying was their biggest problem. Then she applied her know-how to that problem--just that problem.

She offered the team strategies for addressing that problem. She created visuals, provide documentation and whatever else it took to iron out this one issue. The team was not exactly receptive to her ideas at first, but when they applied her strategies and they worked, really good things began to happen.

The team became energized and started believing that they could be successful with her son. And my friend's credibility as contributing team-member was enhanced.

This is something we both use as a first-line strategy nowadays.

I think it is more effective if you pick a high-impact success (a fulcrum), but if things are bad enough start with ANY success you can get.

The same is true in systems advocacy. Little successes set the stage for bigger successes. Getting simple legislation passed creates relationships within the disability community and with community leaders that can lead to bigger projects and bigger successes.

(Black and white pictue of Don and Bob's restaurant with lots of vintage cars in front from here.)

Holiday Gifts (For the Blog Carnival!)

At our house holidays are wonderful. We like the food, the clothes, the decorations, the gatherings, the music...and presents of course, we like those too!

In fact we hate the holidays to end. Jenn told me yesterday that she wants Christmas music back--and this after listening to the radio station that only plays Christmas music, at top volume, every moment that she was home, from Thanksgiving until last Sunday when they went back to regular music. (Personally I am ok with a break from the 75 versions of Frosty the Snowman!)

For us the biggest holiday challenge is gifts for Jenn. She is 16, but a lot of the things 16 year olds like do not appeal to her at all.

She is not close to driving, likes new clothes but doesn't LOVE them, and has no interest in video games or MP# players because they really aren't all that accessible for her (though if we recorded Christmas music... wish I'd thought of that before now!) She doesn't really understand gift cards until she is standing in a store...

She does like movies, but she has tons because that's what folks get her. She likes CDs and books (but at her reading level without being too babyish can be tough too.)

Frankly, she would love toys, but toys would not help her grow up. And she needs to...

She isn't picky, and thankfully she is mannerly, but people want to get her something she will like and be able to use.

This year she got some clothes from her sister and her aunt who are fashionistas so that was good. She got a movie and some books that she seems to like. She got some fancy bath items. She also got a game (not quite a toy, but still fun.)

This year was actually pretty successful.

Her favorite gift?

A picture of Zac Efron to hang in her room (from very cool grandparents!) She explained to the newbies in the house that he was in the movies High School Musical and 17 Again.

"And he is mad HOT!!" she screamed.

I admit watching people's reactions when she tells them about it is kind of fun.

And I know she is not the only teenager to have a poster of him in their room.

Win, win, win!

I am already writing ideas down for next year...

(Black and white picture of a 1951 Christmas tree from here.)

Disability Simulation Exercises Promote What?

I have a very uncomfortable relationship with disability simulation exercises.

Don't get me wrong, I want to like them. They are always well-intentioned. Designers always hope that getting people familiar with the sensations, experiences or equipment of disability will make them more welcoming and understanding of people with disabilities in their lives.

The idea seems sound and it should work, yet most of these exercises--from riding in wheelchairs, to wearing blindfolds, to puppets and role-plays and beyond--just seem to make most participants feel sorry for people who live with disabilities everyday and relieved to get back to their own lives.

Pity and relief are not what I'm aiming for.

I have been puzzling about this for a long time. I know that information alone does not change behavior, and I believe that making concepts experiential improves the likeliehood of student change... Yet these programs just don't teach the things I want people to learn.

For a long time I thought it was the "how" of the experiences that sent folks down the wrong road--maybe things weren't multi-sensory enough, or structured enough or something. But now, I think it's the "what" of the activities that misses the mark.

I have recently realized that disability simulations create the experience of changing from not having a disability to having one rather than the experience of day-to-day life with a disability. Consequently, I think participants get a taste of the emotions that accompany really big changes in our lives. Participants learn that those feelings are what it's like to have a disability.

Well, the emotions of 'big change' certainly can accompany new disability diagnoses (and can be intense.) There can be fear, anger, embarrassment, depression, denial, bargaining and more. For a while things can be utterly frustrating and baffling.

Many people who acquire disabilities through age, illness or injury go through these feelings. Parents whose children are diagnosed with a disability may experience them as well.

But--and here is the kicker--those 'big change emotions' are temporary in disability just like they are in life's other 'big changes.'

And over time most people respond to disability the same way they respond to other big changes.

They adjust.

Eventually people go from saying "I want my old life back" to "Now I do things this way."

Disability simulations just don't impart that perspective. So how do we create that?

What can we change or add to our sensitivity and awareness programs to make the message of understanding stronger?

Here is a link to a new on-line awareness game. (h/t Media Dis n Dat)

What do you think?

See here for another perspective.

Advocacy is a Lifestyle

My kids have a friend who has trouble with anger management. When things are fine with this kid, they're fine. But when he gets angry, he loses control--and this is a serious problem.

Not too long ago my daughter told me that this young man was no longer going to have this problem. He had decided. From now on, no blow-ups. My kids were very upset when I didn't seem convinced.

"You just don't believe in him!" they said.

"Actually I do," I replied, "but I don't believe in his method."

My kids were mad, but finally asked what I meant. I made an analogy (I'm like that!) I asked them if they thought I could bench-press 200 pounds... they of course said no and rolled their eyes.

"But what if I tell you that I have made up my mind that from now on I would be able to??? Now can I?"

"Ummmm, no."

Of course, there IS a way I could become able to lift heavy weights, but willpower alone won't do it.

If I want to be a weightlifter I need to have a habit of daily lifting--starting with the small weights, and this guy needs to start a habit of dealing with frustrations--also starting with the small ones. (And I do believe he can do it!)

Well, some people approach disability advocacy the same way this young man wants to manage his emotions.

These folks see "ADVOCACY" as a specific set of tools and a linear process that a person implements only during certain (bad) events.

They believe that advocacy begins and ends when a problem arises. They look up a bunch of laws, march in, beat the opponents with a stack of regs, and walk away. They don't like advocacy because battles are painful and draining. While they succeed at punching a hole in the armor of entrenched systems, it results in a lot of turmoil.

While I believe in full-blown legal advocacy when the situation calls for it (and have fully used it when necessary)I also believe strongly in advocacy as a daily building process.

I hold the belief that disability is fine and does nothing to diminish a person's value or rights.

I assert this belief in big and small ways every day, and my little relationship-building-while-I-advocate steps are every bit as important to my child's success as anything that was ever written in a lawbook.

If I am effective sometimes I can prevent the big battle (without capitulating either,) And when I must have the big battle it's these smaller, more connective efforts that help the battle-scarred team become functional...

It's almost impossible to succeed by just forcing a system to do what you say and walking away.

Getting to know your school's systems (can't just stop at the PTO, I have found!), engaging in your neighborhood, speaking up in the check-out line, writing letters, fostering relationships, correcting misinformation, writing e-mails, helping people understand your child or yourself, blogging, nurturing relationships with other people with disabilities and their families (even when there is no trouble), and more, all count.

Each daily effort not only makes you a stronger advocate it strengthens your child and their position in the world.

Picture from here.

Curing Down Syndrome?

This is a picture of my daughter after her new haircut--she had enough cut off to make a Locks of Love donation.

By now I am sure you have heard the news about the Mouse Study on Down Syndrome.

Actually, Dr. William Mobley spoke about this study at the National Down Syndrome Congress Conference last summer in Sacramento. Dr. Mobley gave a really clear explanation of the study and, probably because he was speaking to families, introduced the researchers who were working on the study.

The science is fascinating... The ramifications--to me anyway--are unclear.

So, will we be medicating our daughter???

Not anytime soon.

I REALLY do not believe in taking new medications--especially new medications based on new science. After all, Hormone Replacement Therapy, Fen-Phen and Thalidomide all seemed like good ideas at the time.

I will, of course, make exceptions when something is life-threatening, but a cognitive delay simply isn't.

And Alzheimers? Not an issue for another 30 years or more (and it's only a risk factor.) By then, Alzheimer's may well be cured for everyone--this study may well point the way.

So we will wait.

This may present some new and interesting opportunities, time will tell.

But there are a few things this is NOT:

**THIS IS NOT URGENT

Cancer needs a cure. Down syndrome? Not so much.

**THIS IS NOT AN EXCUSE TO ACT LIKE A JERK

One of my friends has already been berated and labelled irresponsible and negligent by another parent for expressing her belief that medicine does not hold the answers for her son.

Negligent and irresponsible for having a different point of view about a medication that does not even exist yet???

REALLY???

One woman who really wants me to medicate Jennifer won't immunize her own son...

Yet I'm not calling her names...

Rein it in, parents! LEARN from your experience of having a child with a difference. Diversity and choice are good. And, it's disrespect (far more than any medical condition)that turns a mere diagnosis into a "handicap."

**THIS IS NOT HELPING DISABILITY ACCEPTANCE

I fear that the implication that we'll just eliminate differences like disability rather than accept, adjust to or welcome them is not making the world better--for any of us.

Sigh...

For somethng truly beautiful, read this.

Don't Dis Ability

Back a few years ago, B.B. (Before Blogging!), I was chatting with an acquaintance who was passionate about AIDS/HIV issues. She told me about this thing called blogging and that she was thinking about starting one. After our conversation I went home and set myself up to blog too.

I ran into this woman recently and asked her how her blog was going. She told me she had never actually started one.

Turned out that she had gone home after our conversation and talked the whole thing over with her husband (a web designer.) He had told her that she really needed a website before she started a blog, and before she could have a website she would need to be competent with HTML, and she would need a marketing plan and several other skills and THEN she could write a blog.

Her hubby had told her that YES, she was a pretty good writer, but writing is "just the tip of the iceberg."

She did try her hand at learning some of the HTML stuff, but found it complicated and uninteresting so she had stopped.

So, yesterday I wrote my 200th post and she didn't--despite the fact that I also only had the "splinter skill" of paragraph construction starting out. (No, I did NOT mention this to her!)

The difference is that I VALUED my splinter skill and looked for ways to turn it into something, rather than DEVALUING it because it didn't come in a package with every other skill known to humankind.

And the fact is I have learned several new computer skills from blogging... way more than I would have without it.

How many valuable and exciting things are nipped in the bud by this sort of de-valuing?

Lots. For everyone, I'm afraid. More, if for those with a disability.

When my son was younger there was someone in every team meeting I ever attended who wanted to exempt themselves from dealing with him, or deny him opportunities--in spite of his considerable language-based skills--because of the things he could not manage.

I spent years taking the skills the school labelled as "splinter skills" (and therefore meaningless) and re-framing them as "bridging skills."

I was constantly pointing out that things like language skills, which didn't interest his math teachers, could be used to improve his math skills...

The same with my daughter. She has great decoding skills and comprehension lags, so she isn't actually reading, according to some folks.

Yet, I find that when I am listening to her read and her understanding derails, if I hear her mention something like a character's purse, for example, I can draw a purse for her (adding a visual to her de-coding) and she will orient immediately to what she is reading. Her 'meaningless' splinter skills are the bridge to comprehension.

My friend's son loves to 'show off' according to his team. If his language skills were stronger they would call it 'performing.' My friend, on the other hand, works to use his love of an audience combined with his strong visual skills to insert story elements into his routines... thus turning his 'showing-off' into communication or story-telling.

Another friend, whose son is not diagnosed with a disability "has such great ideas, but he's so immature," according to his school. First of all, he is 17--of course he's immature! But wouldn't implementing one of his ideas be a great way to increase skills and maturity?

Reject the rejection! Embrace yours and your kids' skills--make bridges of those splinters--and see where they will take you!

Picture from here.