Labels aren’t Just for Jars: Give Kids the Words to Understand their Lives (reblog)

Labels aren’t Just for Jars: Give Kids the Words to Understand their Lives (reblog)

crippledscholar

Labels

Image Description: a hand places disability label cards onto illustrations of children. Still taken from video in post.

Yesterday, on Twitter someone shared this video and asked me for my thoughts.

Video description: A mostly unnarrated video in which a pair of hands puts labels on illustrated jars like jam, peaches, pickles etc. Then the hands start labelling drawings of children with intellectual disability, gifted, autism, learning disability, ADHD, Tourettes, cerebral palsy and Down Syndrome. The video ends telling the viewer that labels are for jars.

I think talking about my feelings on this needs a wider audience than the one on one exchange I had on Twitter.

I actually completely disagree with the entire video. I think it is important to give children the words to understand and describe their own experiences and that it is also important to teach nondisabled children about disability in a normalized way. I…

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I Abused Children For A Living (reblog)

I Abused Children For A Living (reblog)

Diary Of A Birdmad girl

I abused children for a living. It didn’t look like abuse. It didn’t feel like abuse (at least not to me) but it was definitely abuse. I see that now. Back then, I actually thought I was helping those kids. In fact, it was and still is considered ‘therapy.’ And not just any therapy- the most sought-after autism therapy, often the ONLY therapy insurance will cover. To this day it’s lauded as the only “evidence-based treatment” for autism.

You see, I was an ABA therapist. My official title was ‘Behavior Technician’ which in itself is really telling. I was hired off the street with no background in child development, no knowledge of autism or ABA, and no experience working with children, let alone autistic children. I. Literally. Did. Not. Know. What. Autism. Is. And I wouldn’t find out what autism is in the years that I worked there either.

To…

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Living the ‘lie’ (reblog)

Living the ‘lie’ (reblog)

the silent wave

I’ve written a lot before about acting and masking.  For the cheap seats, it’s a prevalent theme throughout the Asperger’s/autism spectrum community.

The way I see it, “masking” is the idea of putting on a proverbial mask, one that covers up your true personality, your true self, etc.  In essence, hiding who you truly are.  “Acting”, on the other hand, is related, but different; one either adopts the characteristics or even persona of another, or perhaps constructs a new persona altogether.

I’ve acted and masked all my life, from my second year of kindergarten onward (yep, you read that right; I spent two years in kindergarten.  Long story.  Not due to intellectual or cognitive impairment).  Acting and masking are survival traits of sorts for me.  I couldn’t have “functioned” in this world without them.  Masks and acting roles construct a hologram of me that is deemed acceptable by my peers.

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The double-edged sword of labels in the autistic world (reblog)

I dream of a world in which to say that one is Aspergian/autistic conjures up accurate imagery.

I long for a place and time in which someone can disclose their status and be met with acceptance, support, or even a neutral indifference.

I’d like to build a society in which the use of the “autistic” term does not ignite fear and apprehension.

I would love to see a culture in which to tell someone you’re on the spectrum doesn’t change the other person’s perception of you or how they treat you.  A world in which to say you’re autistic isn’t followed by being treated with skepticism or talked down to.

Source: The double-edged sword of labels in the autistic world

How to Support People with Seizures | Purple Day 2017 (reblog)

Little Hux Tales

First of all, thank you for opening this post.

While followers of this blog might know I am autistic, you might not know I’ve had seizures for ten years as well. They developed long before we had an inkling that autism was a possibility, and I was diagnosed with non epileptic seizures. We now know that the mechanism of my seizures is linked to my inability to process emotions in a neurotypical way, and how my body deals with stress and meltdowns.

Unsure how to help people with seizures? No fear, I’m here.

  1. Ask and listen. We know our seizures intimately and can share with you a wealth of information about our own experiences. Ask about their triggers and ask about when to call emergency services – ambulances are expensive and often unnecessary. My line is call an ambulance for me if I’ve clearly injured my head. For epileptic people…

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My Mom Is an Autism Expert and I Don’t Trust Her to Take Care of My Autistic Child (reblog)

Interesting read.

This brings us to the third point which is that she cares about observational behavior, or how similar to neurotypical it is, and ignores health. Because focusing on observational behavior in the moment and ignoring energy levels and a long term perspective on health means that my kid’s health will suffer.

As a consequence of not paying attention to health, she doesn’t acknowledge symptoms of stress, and instead she’s prone to explaining most problems with a lack of motivation. When an autistic kid is dead tired on a Monday morning and crying because the demand of brushing teeth and putting on clothes is too high, she explains this with that he or she (no other genders exist to her) isn’t being challenged enough. No matter how much information I’ve given her that explains that this can happen when the weekend has been too energy consuming, she doesn’t really believe me.

Source: My Mom Is an Autism Expert and I Don’t Trust Her to Take Care of My Autistic Child

why i #BoycottAutismSpeaks (reblog)

why i #BoycottAutismSpeaks (reblog)

Powerful.

a diary of a mom

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{image is a photo of me at a lectern, addressing the crowd at an Autism Speaks dinner in Hartford, CT. I believe it was 2009.}

I thought that I was doing right by my child.

(I didn’t know yet how radically I wasn’t.)

I thought that I was fighting for her.

(I was fighting HER.)

I raised money.

(A lot of it.)

I gave speeches.

(To get other people to give money too.)

I thought that helping my daughter meant finding a cure for who she is.

(Think about that.)

I brought my daughter to places in which she — in all of her beautiful, glorious, tangled Brookeness — was being called a tragedy, a scourge, a casualty of a brutal epidemic.

(I am so sorry, baby. So, so sorry.)

And then I started to get it.

To understand the damage being done to autistic people in the name of helping…

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