Interview with Nancy H, Julianna's School Teacher

When I heard that Julianna's amazing teacher, Nancy H., was retiring this year, I knew I needed to sit down with her and ask what she has learned from her impressive teaching career. I have seen amazing progress in Julianna since she's been with Mrs. H., and so appreciate her hard work for those students. During our interview, she also told me that Julianna is now giving her compliments about her clothing, which is a new thing. Almost every day, Julianna will tell Mrs. H. that she likes her clothes--there was one sparkly silver sweater in particular that Julianna liked so much that Mrs. H. said she might give it to Julianna at the end of the year. Thanks so much, Mrs. H., for your diligence and passion as a teacher! You will be missed!

How long have you been teaching? What drew you to the profession?

Total, 38 years. I have wanted to be a teacher since I was little. When I would go to friends' houses, I would play "teacher" with their younger siblings. I thought it was weird when people didn't know what they wanted to do in college, because I always knew what I wanted to do.

What types of classes and students have you taught?

I've done a little of everything--infant care at college campuses--I opened an infant center at UC Riverside. I've taught early childhood education at a community college, and all grades except high school. I've taught headstart programs, regular elementary school classes, and adult classes. But I've always been drawn to the inclusion classes.

Tell me about your own children.

Of my three children, my oldest is very "normal," but did have some minor issues with dyslexia. My son had much worse dyslexia and auditory discrimination issues and was placed in special education classes. This is where I learned to take a stand and defend him and make sure his class settings were right. This is what opened my world to special education. He has disabilities, but he's like any other kid.

What have you learned from doing the inclusion class?

I feel like teachers should accept any child that walks through the door. I make sure to modify the class for every student. To me, there shouldn't be the divisions. Every child deserves to learn, and it's my job as a teacher to adapt my curriculum to reach their learning. When they began doing inclusion classes, I volunteered, because I wanted to prove that it could be done.

I was sent to a inclusion training with another teacher, and I saw that students were helping other students in wheelchairs, and I remember thinking, "YES! Why can't it be that way?" It should be that way! I also learned more about autism, and my eyes were opened. It really is different for every child on the spectrum. I've taught the inclusion class for 5 years, but before that, I was the mainstreaming teacher, because they knew I liked having children from special education sent to my class. I've done that throughout my entire career, actually. This has allowed me to teach many different children.

What do you love about being a teacher?

What I love is sharing that experience when a child or adult gets that "a-ha!" and you see the light go on. I love that I get to be a part of that. Even smaller things, like a child that never takes his jacket off. I tell myself, by the end of the year, that jacket's coming off. When it does, it's like, "Yay! I did it!" The curriculum isn't as big a deal for me, because they can learn math or reading from anyone. It's all about those life-changing moments, when the child might say, "I can't," and then later can say, "I can." It's about the connections.

What do you not like about teaching?

When generalizations are made. I hate that they're separated just by age. I wish they would separate by subject, and have rooms with just writing teachers, and another room for the math, and then another room for being creative. I think more individualized help could be given. I don't like when students are made to fit in a box, or when teachers don't want to teach a certain student. I can feel my patience slipping, and I knew I needed to retire. I make sure to apologize to my students when I snap at them, or warn them if I'm having a groggy day! I like to be real with them.

What is the biggest challenge that teachers face now?

Being asked to do things that we know we can't do. A lot of the curriculum isn't developmentally appropriate, but some is. I love common core, and I've noticed that education cycles around. It's coming back to what we used to do when I first started teaching, where you try different methods to learn the same thing. Before common core, teaching used to be scripted, where all teachers had to teach the same page every day, and you had to move on even if they didn't learn it. It wasn't about mastery--it was more surface teaching. Now that we are doing common core and teaching 10 ways for math concepts, it can feel overwhelming for some students, but it's a change from what we are used to, and it will get better. Common core is helping kids learn more deeply, rather than the surface teaching. The testing has been so challenging, and some problems take 30 minutes to complete, but I think it will get easier. It's more than memorizing--it's finding what makes the connection.

How has being a teacher changed you?

I don’t think being a teacher has changed me. Instead, I think it has made me more aware of the differences in children’s life experiences and family make-up. Some students come to school prepared and ready to go, whereas others need lots of support.  My goal as a teacher is more on the social/emotional development, rather than the academic curriculum.  I feel if students are sound emotionally, then they can learn.  I feel it is my job, my duty, to make sure they feel safe, loved, respected, and nurtured, then true “learning” can take place.

Have you ever wanted to quit? What would you tell new teachers that are struggling?

I have never wanted to “quit.” I just have, over the years, developed new goals or tried new things. If I became bored, I would switch grade levels or incorporate new ideas. I would never “quit” the profession.  Facing retirement is kind of scary to me now.  I would tell new teachers to just hang on-- things will get easier as time passes. Also, to focus on one area each year and strive for as close to perfection as you can get, but also realize that with each class, you need to change and adapt to their individual needs.

What are your feelings about special education in general?

This has been my “baby” for about the last ten years.  I have a special needs child myself (minor disabilities) but a struggle none the less. This gave me a personal connection as to how these students are perceived and treated. I think, as a whole, we have come very far. My child was one of those that did not “fit” into a program. General education moved too fast for him, but special education was too low. It was a struggle. I feel that all students, with the exception of violent behavior issues, should all be placed in general education classrooms, with pull-out services, as needed, on an individual basis. I have had students, however, who are just “overwhelmed” by the size and pace of a general education classroom and benefited from smaller, more tailored programs. This is the main point--individual needs should be met for each and every child.  It should not be determined based on financial reasons.

What is the biggest thing your students have taught you? What do you hope to have taught them?

The biggest thing they have taught me is the diversity of their families. It has made me think before giving assignments so I don’t set them up to fail, meaning, if they do not have a supportive family, or extra funds to spend on projects, I don’t assign them. We do those in class, and I provide the supplies. I never want a child to resent their family because their classmates “have more.” Family is first and should be that way. I hope I have taught them, first of all, that I truly care about them. Next, that anything is possible, that the things that have happened in the past can be changed, that things that are hard can become easier, and that they need to make their dreams come true by working hard and
finding support, whether that support comes from home, school, or their community. NEVER GIVE UP! That seems simple, but for some, it is their hardest obstacle.

Do you have any regrets?

Not really. I tend to think things happen for a reason and the changes I have made throughout my career have happened because they were supposed to. I feel some students have been placed in my class because I have been meant to help them. I have had some real challenges, but they all have had some positive results. There have been students, in the past, where I have feared for their futures or their safety. Those are the hardest to lose contact with. I have wanted to take some home. This is where being a teacher is very difficult--there is only so much we can do.

What legacy do you want to leave as a teacher? What do you want others to remember about you?

When I chose the inclusion class, I always looked at that as my legacy. I knew I was going to be retiring fairly soon, and I wanted to leave that mark, that it can be done, and very easily and successfully done. Don't let disabilities or medical challenges define the child--every child deserves the best they can get, whatever that best is. For some kids, it is a special education class, because it just won't work, but inclusion is worth trying. You make the school fit for the child, you don't make the child fit for the school. And you never leave any child at the door--you welcome them all in, with whatever they bring. That's what a true teacher is to me.

One of my college professors told me that you can be a teacher for 30 years, or you can teach the same thing 30 times. I have been in this profession for 38 years. Hopefully, I have changed and adapted to always meet the needs of my students for 38 years, especially on an emotional level and with positive, memorable, and motivating experiences.

Guest Post: Susan S., Autism and Mastocytosis

Susan S. reached out to me on my facebook page to share her story with all of you. I was happy to do so. Read on to hear about her experience being diagnosed with autism, and also mast cell disease (or mastocytosis). As you can see, she found my page for a reason! Having a child with autism and another with mastocytosis, I'm sure glad she found me, and that she could share her story.

I was 33 when I finally received my autism diagnosis. There were just a lot of things that led up to it. I always knew I was different. So did my mom. But getting a diagnosis in the 80's was probably harder than pulling teeth from a crocodile.

As for how it made me feel, at first I was like WHO AM I? Then as I learned more about it, I realized a lot of things suddenly made sense that didn't make sense before and I came to accept it as part of who I am.

Symptoms.... I call them signs. There was the speech delay, the delayed walking, just the lack of truly functional verbal communication, the social awkwardness, the desire to fit in and belong and have friends but the inability to actually do so. Did we suspect autism? Not in the beginning because we truly did not have the information we now have.

My challenges: I need routine. A break in routine can throw me off. The weather changing can throw me off. Too much noise or color or texture can throw me off. It's like living on a roller coaster.

My blessings: Just being able to know more about why I am different from others. It helps me to know there is a reason. Plus I feel more connected to God and to nature as well. I feel like autism gives me a unique perspective of the world that others lack. I am able to see more of the beauty of the world.

Other challenges I have are with regard to being able to get and keep a job. I somehow can practice an interview and do fine, but when I get into the real interview, I flub up. I wish that I could have someone do the interview for me in place of me.

In terms of helping others understand autism, it has not been easy, but the biggest thing I think has been teaching them that autism never goes away and as such, no one should be aging out of services and programs for autistics.

I also use a lot of identity-first language. I want people to know that's okay. In my advocacy for autism, I emphasis that adults still need access just as much as children and that we need early intervention and diagnosis. One of the biggest success stories in my advocacy so far has to be the fact that my state autism agency finally lifted the age cap on tennis clinics making it possible for more to be able to attend and one of the individuals to stay with it. One of the boys loves it so much but he was turning into an adult and aging out. It made no sense for that to happen.

I also discovered I have mast cell disease. I will be honest, we are still in the early testing stages, but all these years of losing immunoglobulins and being allergic but not having my IgEs agree that I was allergic now make more sense. The allergist was testing for venom allergy due to some concerns we had raised in clinic about my having been stung by a wasp the year before. And when he tested it, he also tested the serum tryptase level. It came back slightly elevated. So he said he wanted to test it again. Again, it came back slightly elevated but higher than the first time. But one of my doctors took the leap and started me on cromolyn sodium oral solution while he looks into what biopsy we need to do for me, and so far it is helping a lot, especially with my gut issues. That's what was impacted the most - my gut.

My daily life has gone from constantly having to interrupt meals to find a restroom and from constantly having to be in the restroom to being run by a strict medication schedule, but I am going to stick it out with that medicine because for the first time in a long time, I am not having to see the restroom so much (at least with regard to the gut, the bladder is a different issue). What I have learned is that a lot of systems can be affected. It's more than just skin, but can also be systemic. And never rely on what you think you knew about allergies either. One day, I can literally have no issues, but the next be all itchy and tongue ulcers.... It's a long journey though, and I have only just begun with the mast cells.

Another thing, and this is kind of the perplexing thing is that both mast cell disease and immune deficiency are pretty rare and somehow I have both. They tend to go in equal but opposite directions. I'm no longer just a zebra. I'm a zebra-corn! (Zebra/unicorn)

One thing for people to know about autism? That's a hard one, but maybe I would just want them to have a simple understanding. So, one thing about autism is this: Being autistic is like being a Mac computer in a PC world. We eventually do the same tasks, but we take different routes to get them done. One thing about mast cell disease: Fight. Do not let a doctor say to you that they can do nothing for you or that they refuse to do anything for you. While my state has no specialist, there is a specialist they can communicate with. So fight.

Guest Post for World Autism Awareness Day: Derek's Story, by Nicole C.

 

1. What was your pregnancy and delivery like with your child? Were there any complications?

My pregnancy with Derek was uneventful. It was very similar to my pregnancy with my older son. The only thing that was notable was that he wasn’t as active as his brother. He was born 5 days before his due date via repeat cesarean after a failed induction. The induction wasn’t for any medical reasons. It just so happened that I was due the Monday after Thanksgiving, and my husband’s company was shutting down for the week of Thanksgiving. Vacation days being sparse, we asked the doctor if she would do an elective induction at 39 weeks (the Monday before Thanksgiving) so that my husband could be with me. As much as I tell myself we were doing what was best for our family at that time, I sometimes wish we had waited for him to be ready on his own.

2. When did you start noticing that something wasn't quite right with your child? How did this make you feel?

Derek was a very relaxed baby. The type of baby you would sometimes forget was in the swing or bouncer or laying under that little baby “gym” on the floor. He was quiet, happy, and just seemed to be taking in everything around him. I think having an active older brother who is only 19 months older than him allowed him to settle into that position. Most of his milestones were a little delayed (from a medical perspective), but nothing we weren’t used to, as his older brother didn’t walk or talk until between 18 and 19 months old. We became concerned shortly before his first birthday. He refused to hold his bottle or take a sippy cup. He was unable to feed himself. He raked his food up with his whole hand instead of using the pincher grasp. He wasn’t babbling the same way the kids in my mommy groups were at that age. Around 11 months old I self-referred him to our county’s early intervention program. We were already working with them for our older son, so when I voiced concerns about Derek they offered to do an evaluation.

Early intervention set him up with an occupational therapist and a feeding specialist. His feeding issues quickly became a thing of the past, as we witnessed when he stuffed his face with birthday cake at his 1st birthday party! Soon the feeding specialist was replaced with a speech therapist. He ended up walking around 16 months, but to this day (at almost 3 ½ years old) he is still mostly nonverbal.

3. When did you seek out answers for your child? How did you get them?

Early last summer, when Derek was about 2 ½ years old, I had been reading about sensory processing disorder. He avoided certain foods – fruits, vegetables, and pasta are 3 big ones that he still avoids to this day. He was uncomfortable with walking on different surfaces – it took him awhile to transition from carpet to linoleum; he avoided grass like it was hot lava. He even refused to walk on concrete for some time (even with shoes on). After doing some reading and talking to other parents, I reached out to his occupational therapist. While I had my concerns, she was the first person to flat out express that she thought Derek had autism. Her words exactly – “The thing with sensory integration is that all kids with autism have sensory processing issues but not all kids with sensory processing issues have autism.  For Derek, I see it being the first since he struggles with more than just input such as the social/engagement piece.” I remember feeling like someone had just laid me out on the floor when I read that. As parents we all know what it’s like to question things about our children, but to have someone independently express those concerns – it can be like a punch to the gut. That is when I began to actively pursue a formal evaluation.

4. What is your child's diagnosis? How did having your child receive a diagnosis make you feel as a mother?

Derek’s diagnosis is mild to moderate autism spectrum disorder. It was approximately a month or two wait from the time I scheduled his evaluation to the time he was actually seen. In that time my husband and I did a lot of observing and researching. By the time we received his diagnosis it was pretty much a foregone conclusion in our minds. Which made it easier when the doctor very bluntly told us, “well, let me just tell you, he definitely has autism. No one stims as much as he does and doesn’t have autism.” We knew a diagnosis was the gateway to getting him the help he needs. 

When I let myself be overtaken by everything, then the self-doubt begins. What could I have done differently? Was it something during my pregnancy? Was it the induction? The Pitocin? But I know I can’t be my best for him if I let these questions take over my mind. I have my pity party and move on. I have to be mentally strong to take care of him, advocate for him, and be the best mom I’m capable of being. 

5. What have you learned from your child? What do you want others to know about his/her diagnosis?

Derek has taught me patience and that looks can be deceiving. He may be nonverbal, but he sure knows how to get what he wants! And he’s smart – don’t let him fool you! He has this big, beautiful brain that’s just wired a little differently. For me, he is joy personified. His smile, his giggles, his big blue eyes . . . they give me hope. Hope that he’ll be the best person he’s capable of being, whatever that means for him. Hope for acceptance. Hope that someday he’ll understand just how much his mama loves him.

Derek is now almost 3 ½ years old. In the short time that we’ve been on this autism journey I’ve learned how much the idea of a “spectrum” really suits an autism diagnosis. Every person with this diagnosis is unique. You will never meet two the same. I’ve also come to realize that this isn’t just a learning disability or something that can be taught out of him. There is something truly different about his brain that we may never understand. 

So today, as we raise awareness and acceptance, I want people to open their minds and their hearts. Listen and observe a little more, talk a little less. When you spend time with an autistic person, you can’t expect them to enter your world. Enter THEIR world and I guarantee you, you will be amazed. Don’t pity them, appreciate them and love them for who they are. Don’t expect them to conform to your norms; take immense joy in allowing them to march to their own drummer. You will learn something new—
I know I do every day.

Guest Post: Sue's Diagnosis Story

I've reached a "discovery" in my life as you'd call it, and I figured I'd start a blog to tell my story and perhaps share some interesting, funny and exciting experiences along the way. Here goes...

 

On Wednesday, March 19th, 2014 I was diagnosed with Asperger's Syndrome. For those of you who look at this and think "huh, what the heck does that mean?" I'll make it simple. It's a part of the autism spectrum. No, it does not mean I'm like "Rain Man" or any of the stereotypical impressions you see about autism in the media. It simply means my brain is hardwired a little differently than most.

 

 

See, I was a little "different" from day one. It became apparent when I was in preschool that I wasn't quite like the other kids. While they would sit and follow the lesson and listen to the teacher, I'd be off doing whatever my heart led me to at the moment. I remember running around, playing in the playhouse, sitting on the slide....I was one rambunctious little kid! My teacher suggested my parents and I meet with a psychologist to look into my hyperactive behaviors. This ended up fruitless, as after a handful of appointments, the doctor lost touch with my parents. I was also a lot more well-behaved starting in about 1st grade after still continuing to "do what I wanted to do" as my kindergarten teacher reported, so no one really gave it a second thought.

 

The rest of elementary school went without incident, and I had no difficulty with my grades. Something still seemed just a bit different, though. I'd try and joke with the other kids, yet there was something that just didn't click. I managed to have friends and acquaintances, however. I just felt like I wasn't always in on some of the things they were. One thing I went through was what I would later learn to be OCD, as I would deal with endless worrying on and off. I'll save this for another post so as not to make this any longer than it's already going to be.

 

Fast forward to middle school. It was then I started to get picked on for my interests, especially video games. Because you know, playing Sonic the Hedgehog at 12 is such an abnormal thing to do...(insert sarcasm)...anyway, I again did very well in school, and was one of the kids the teachers appreciated. I was conscientious and eager to learn. I did begin to recognize, though, that it seemed difficult to remember the things I needed to bring home to complete my homework and I would get things mixed up. I learned of something called ADD, and thought right away, "that's me." Since I was doing well, though, everyone around me was convinced that nothing was wrong. I was a little unique. In 7th grade, I was the kid who sat at the lab table with the animals in my science class. Doing what the other kids did just didn't always appeal to me. I remember learning about peer pressure and why I should avoid it, all the time wondering "why would I want to do these things just because everyone else is, anyway?" There was just something about my place amongst my peers that was a little off, and this would continue to be more evident the older I got.

 

I'll move on to high school. What I observed was that more than ever, I was not concerned with being like the other kids or fitting in. It seemed like the other girls were suddenly preoccupied with how they looked, being "cool," self-consciousness, and what boys thought of them. I stood back, o n the outside looking in, wondering "WHY?" Why is everyone suddenly changing? What happened to when things were simple? Why are they worrying about this stuff if it makes them miserable? A lot of this fueled my OCD as I took it to mean my friends weren't interested in the same things as I was anymore and were moving on without me. To this day, I still can't figure it out. I've never worried about my appearance. As long as the clothes FELT comfortable, what else mattered? So what if they're a little wrinkled? So they don't match. Big deal? My hair doesn't have to be perfect. Makeup? I wouldn't be caught dead in that stuff! You get the idea. I've always been more of a tomboy, anyway. I've also never been concerned with dating or being in a relationship. It's something I have absolutely no desire for. I continued to do well in class, and graduated high school in 2001.

 

Now on to my late teens/early 20s. College went relatively well, and I changed my major from Bio Ed to Social Work after my third year. It was the best decision I could have made. I did notice that I still struggled with what I recognized as ADD characteristics, but I managed to keep my GPA in the high range. I was still the kid who always sat in the front of the class and took care to do my best. I graduated with my Bachelor's in Social Work in 2006.

 

It was when I started working full-time that my difficulties became more apparent to me. I reached a point when after forgetting to do tasks and being confused time and time again, I finally investigated whether or not I had ADHD, as I later learned was the correct term for it. I went to get evaluated, and sure enough, I was right! I started medication and saw a difference right away. It has been very helpful and allowed me to stay "in the zone." I've been working in the mental health and developmental disabilities fields and absolutely love it! I've met a lot of people who are very accepting of me for who I am, and with whom I can relate to.

 

It was about 4 or 5 years ago when I stumbled upon a blog written by my now friend on Facebook, who has Asperger's and was writing about her experiences. Now, I had heard of the disorder when I was about 22, and all I knew was that it was a mild form of autism, and sure sounded a lot like asparagus to me! Upon reading my friend's blog, I started to realize "this sounds a lot like me. I understand this stuff." I connected with her and have been in contact with her ever since, and we share a LOT in common. Through talking to her and meeting others on the spectrum via Facebook groups and in person, as well as doing a lot of research, I concluded that I was most likely on the spectrum. I finally decided to investigate it, and went to the same psychologist who diagnosed me with ADHD just 6 years ago.

He determined that I am indeed on the spectrum, in the Asperger's range as I suspected! What a feeling of confirmation I had after learning that I was right! I'm pretty good at figuring myself out, eh? ;)

 

So this is where I'm at. I have the knowledge that I am where I thought I was after all. I have no shame in telling people about my discovery, and see it as a part of the person I am. I'm proud of who I am, and wouldn't want to be any other way! I wouldn't be me if I was :) 

Autism Educational Series—Birthdays—"Autism in Our House"

Kristi is an autism mommy blogger (ack!), part time preschool teacher, stay at home mom, finder of socks, and reader of books who has the soul of a musician without the talent to back it up. You can find her on Facebook at Autism in Our House. This post originally appeared on her blog, www.autisminourhouse.com, and also on Autism Speaks.

Birthdays in Our House

These beautiful babies are about to turn ten and eight. This brings me to a time of serious reflection. I've been watching the endless slideshow of photos on our computer, sobbing, remembering, loving, feeling grateful, all those emotions and more at once.

It makes me remember our constitutional towards an autism diagnosis for BigBrudder. You may or may not know BigBrudder was born with a cleft lip and palate. We thought this would be our primary area of concern for him. For a long time it was. It still certainly occupies quite a bit of our parental thoughts and concerns, but little did we know that autism would become our main focus.

BigBrudder from very early on only liked to be held in a certain way. I would describe it as snug. He loved being swaddled and held firmly. He was always alert. Looking around and sometimes through you it seemed. He progressed normally and hit his milestones on time, mostly. Except language. Here he was hyper verbal. He didn't really babble much, perhaps because of the speech therapy he received for his cleft lip and palate. Or, it could be that we didn't baby talk. He spoke in complete sentences and loved showing what he "knew," which was a lot.

Beginning at his two year well check, I asked every year about autism. He was a toe walker, he had a compulsion about lining up his toys a certain way, he would get lost in his own little world for hours at a time and not hear us, his food aversions were severe, and the meltdowns...they could last for days. I was told every year "He's too social." They didn't see him at home. Yes, he interacted with us, but it wasn't reciprocal. Until we had the WeeOne.

The other day, the WeeOne was in the midst of a rough patch (thanks full, super, harvest moon). We talked through it, and then I told him this: "You know how BigBrudder sometimes (okay a lot of times) seems lost in his own thoughts. Well, when he was almost two and you weren't quite born yet, it was much more severe. We could call his name, we could talk to him and it was as if he couldn't hear us. All of that changed when you came in to the world. Suddenly, BigBrudder was connected to someone in a way we hadn't seen yet. He loved you more than he loved anyone before. I tell you this not to give you a burden but a gift. That is how much you are loved." The WeeOne had tears rolling down his cherubic cheeks. I said, "Baby, what's wrong?" The WeeOne Replied, "They are tears of joy. I want to tell this story to BigBrudder." To him I said, "Baby, this story is for you to hold in your heart. Hold it close now and always. Remember it when BigBrudder doesn't seem to be listening. You are his best friend, forever."

Happy Almost Birthday, my loves.

Autism Educational Series—Four Kids on the Spectrum—Brianna A.

Brianna has four kids: Jack (8 and in 3rd grade), Joseph (soon to be 7 {my halloween baby} and in 1st grade), James (4 and in preschool) and a step-daughter, Tyla (11 and in 6th grade, who we usually don't have during the week). You can find her at her blog, AutismHowWeRoll.

AUTISM...A DAY IN THE LIFE

I thought I would give a little insight into what a typical morning looks like in a house with four kids on the autism spectrum. Quite interesting is an understatement, to say the least.

 

A typical morning in our house looks something like this:

 

5:00-5:30---I hear one or more boys playing angry birds or constructing random creations with all the colored construction paper known to man (don't forget the tape, glue and any other possible craft item in the house), or even someone (usually the 7 and 4 year old) sawing the kitchen table with steak and butcher knives. Sometimes, only if I'm super lucky, this starts as early as 4:30...

 

5:30-6:00---Consists of me lovingly shouting in my best morning voice that the "sun is not awake- so neither should they be" (cursing under my breath and praying that this is all a dream) and even maybe convincing Dad he should get up since he has to get ready to go to work anyway and reminding him how much of a morning person I am NOT!!

 

6:00-7:00---Now it's time to "feed" the boys breakfast, which by the way is a daily battle. Having to convince the 4 yr old he can NOT have mashed potatoes or Doritos for breakfast or cooking the exact same Eggo chocolate chip pancakes with chocolate almond milk for the 8 year old is an every day occurrence. Every.Single.Day. Bribing the 7-year-old (who weighs as much as my toe soaking wet on a good day) to PLEASE at least eat a pop tart or two is also a morning ritual.

 

7:00-7:30---Now it's time to tell boys to get dressed 3,982.5 times. Guess what happens? Yup, we dress the kids. Did I mention my 4 year old loathes clothes? Oh yeah, and school. He claims sickness every day. Luckily, Dad stays on task while I pack the same lunch every single day.

 

7:30-7:50---This consists of finding that one shoe that somehow got up and walked away times three. My 8 year old has been working on tying his own shoes for the last three years. So we "encourage" him to do it all on his own. (I *might* get impatient but try to remain encouraging.) Then we celebrate when he actually "ties" his shoes but we have to help him "fix" it so it will stay (which is the equivalent to actually re-tying it). It's a long process before even getting everyone in the car (which is equivalent to herding cats, uphill, in the rain)

 

7:50-8:00---I patiently wait for everyone to buckle "themselves" all the while I try like crazy to contain myself in the front seat and not just do it myself to get it done faster.

 

8:00-8:10--- I navigate through the CRAZY parking lot at the elementary school to drop off the 8 year old. I also enjoy honking the horn at the 8 year old every day as he forgets his backpack/water bottle/chewy necklace or whatever other critical item he needs that helps him get through his day.

 

8:10-8:40--- I now get to enjoy more drive time as I take the 7 and 4 year olds to their autism school (yes it's a 30 min drive one way- some days the longest 30 minutes ever). Listening to fart noises, singing made up songs, the 4-year-old telling his brother "that's not funny," "stop looking at me," "we keep our hands to ourselves, Joe," "I HATE school! I need to stay in the car," "Mom, I'm sick and I need to stay home with you," and of course the "STOP SINGING!!" battle cries luckily take up most of the 30-minute ride.

 

8:40-8:55--- I try to unload boys from car quickly (epic fail daily) realizing we are late once again since school started at 8:30. I walk them to their classrooms while constantly telling the 7-yr-old to stay out of the puddles, don't pull the flowers off the bushes, and KEEP UP! I finally drop off 4 yr old first and take the "long cut" to 7 year olds classroom because he "doesn't take short cuts on Wednesdays" while also watching the ants walk in a straight line. And, did I mention, him being totally amazed by it EVERY. SINGLE. TIME.

 

9:00-9:30---I sit in the QUIET car on the nice long drive home!! I try not to think about what needs to be done, then of course I ….

 

LATHER, RINSE AND REPEAT the rest of the week...

　

　

 

Autism Educational Series—Anxiety—"Momtisms"

Kimberly runs a Facebook page called Momtisms and can be found at her blog as well, http://momtisms.blogspot.com/. She is also a talented crafter! Check out some of her projects on her page. The following post was originally published on her blog on August 19, 2014.


Autism & Anxiety - "Tomorrow is Death.."

It is a well-known factor that anxiety often exists in correlation with autism. Perhaps all of us, to a degree, have experienced some form of anxiety during our lifetime for whatever reason. Maybe you are late for an important appointment or job interview, maybe you know you will not have enough money to pay your mortgage that month. That uncomfortable feeling comes over you. Your entire body tenses and you just can't shake this overbearing sensation of feeling stressed out and uptight. Your heart rate increases. You might even feel nauseated and start talking to yourself, as if you are trying to find a solution to this cause of your anxiety. Maybe you are even yelling to blow off some steam. Eventually, you say to yourself, "I'll be OK," or "it'll work out," as your brain is racing trying to figure out a solution. The tense feeling in your body starts to loosen up, you start to relax and your heartbeat returns to it's regular rhythm. You now feel relaxed and back to your normal self within a short matter of time.

Often times, children with autism and anxiety do not have this "automatic" self-soothing skill. It must be practiced and taught during calm periods and in small doses. In addition, the cause of the anxiety becomes almost an obsession of worry, and a vicious cycle starts. They change their habits to avoid the stressor, or cause of the anxiety. In fact, they avoid it at all costs. It is painful to feel this way, a sense of doom if the source of anxiety, or even the thought of it, is present.

Nugget, my nine year old son (now 10), has a diagnosis of autism and general anxiety disorder. His anxieties are a daily challenge for him and they can occur everywhere at any time, with any person. Imagine feeling like that. The things you fear most can happen at anytime, and by any person. Well that almost sounds impossible, doesn't it? How can something that creates such anxiety strike anytime and any place? How is it possible that another person can be the instigator of his anxiety?

Nugget has word aversions, rather a deep in-grained phobia of certain words being said. The difficulty with this particular phobia, is that nobody knows all the words he fears. Not even me. Not only is this a major stressor for him, but this also creates a significant challenge when trying to teach social skills. You can't make many friends, or even socialize, when you freak out because somebody said the word, or in fear that they will say the words "pregnant"; "inhalant";  "venomous"; "smurf"; "algebra"; "sobbed"; or "plasma", and that is just a few mentioned from the "black-listed" word list.

Back some time ago, I started keeping a list of all the words we knew he didn't like the sound of. Curious, I wondered if he was doing some negative visual association with these words. After explaining what I was going to do, I found a book and showed him a picture of a pregnant woman and asked if that bothered him. It didn't, in fact he was looking at the word pregnant. He said that didn't bother him either, but he immediately reminded me to not say the word. He was tearing up and I could see the fear on his face. I quickly rewarded him for his cooperation with a lollipop and grabbed the next item - an inhaler. Same thing, no reaction to me pretending to use it and no reaction to the word "inhalant," written on the bottle. However, Nugget reminded me again not to say the word. This time he was not as anxious or worried, since it seemed he trusted I would not say the word. Curiously, I returned to the "black-list" of words, trying to find some pattern, or something that made it clear why he could not stand the sound of these words. Nothing....they didn't sound the same, they did not start with the same letter, they did not have the same amount of letters, etc.....

I started looking on the internet. I did, in fact, find that their is something called "Word Aversion." However, this was just a study that had been conducted at a University in Pennsylvania on the "most hated words." The only thing I found from this was that the word "moist" is the most hated word amongst people with word aversions. Ironically, Nugget does not have a problem hearing this word. This was going nowhere. Nobody could give me any insight, or had even heard of this aversion, with it being such a phobia. School was of no help, the doctors Nugget was seeing did not have the answers. I needed to help my little boy. How can he go through life with this phobia, this stress and anxiety?

A year later, we finally got word that Nugget would be able to see a well-known, respected doctor in the autism community where we live. He has worked with ASD children for years, and we had finally reached the end of the waiting list. I figured this was our last hope in getting Nugget the help he needed. A week later, we were in for our first appointment. I was pleased. We set up a plan to target Nugget's anxiety. We would start one word at a time, slowly "de-sensitizing" him to hearing the word. I made up a chart at home. It consisted of 4 steps. The first step involved me giving a warning that I would be saying the word. I would immediately reinforce him for staying calm. We started with the word "plasma." After 10 successful trials, we would move to the second step, also consisting of ten successful trials. He would need to say the word. The third step would involve anyone else being able to say the word at anytime. Once he was OK with this, I set it up so he would "graduate" this word by earning a bigger reinforcer of his choice. That would be the fourth and final step.
So far, this has been going pretty good. He is now graduated with the word "plasma," but is still in phase one on "pregnant" as it appears he is having some difficulty with step two and three. His phobia is so bad that he fears his weekly visit to the doctor. A couple of days before the appointment, he will say he's going to die. Tomorrow is his next appointment. "Tomorrow is death," he says. He starts worrying because he thinks we will "bombard" him with all the words he fears. Tomorrow, I know he will try to barricade his bedroom door. I know I will have to do some serious redirecting and reinforcing.

So why am I doing this to my son? Why do I put him through this? Well if you have ever seen the Temple Grandin movie, you would know that she also had significant anxiety issues growing up. Her mother realized, that you still have to push your children out of their comfort zones, intensively but gently, in order for them to be functional both as a child and as an adult. The thought of my son having these fears throughout his entire life is more painful to me than dealing with it right now and helping him to learn how to independently cope with his anxieties in the future. Hopefully, we can accomplish this before his "black-listed" list of words gets even longer. I am hoping we will not have to endure the whole list of words and that he will generalize what he is learning from this, that he "survived" hearing "plasma" and that he will be able to tell himself, "it'll be OK."

Autism Eduational Series—IEPS and School Accomodations—"Our Autism/Bipolar Journey"

My name is Janice. I am the mother to three children including a 13 year old who has Autism, Bipolar Disorder and other diagnoses. I am the Chairperson of our town's Special Education Parent's Advisory Council and volunteer for an online agency that supports families who have children with mood disorders.  You can read more about our journey on my blog at Our Autism/Bipolar Journey or on Facebook at Our Autism/Bipolar Journey.

 
School Accommodations and IEPs for Children with Autism:
There is a quote from Rod Paige (Secretary of Education) which states "There is no more powerful advocate than a parent armed with information and options." Looking back throughout the years, my son has taught me more than I ever imagined I would know about the educational system. The summer before he began kindergarten, I spent that summer studying the federal laws and state regulations, because I knew he was going to need accommodations. I read somewhere that "informed parents make the best advocates." Those words became etched in my heart. I knew he needed me to advocate for him. I became determined in getting him the help he needed. When he was in first grade, I became involved with our town's Special Education Parent's Advisory Council. After a few years, I was nominated as the chairperson. Honeybunches is now in 7th grade, just beginning our new journey of middle school. It's like a whole new world for both of us.

Here are 10 of the most important things I have learned about Educational Advocacy as a parent:

1. You can agree to disagree. If the school district refuses to give your child accommodations you know they need, you can partially reject the IEP and request an Independent Evaluation.
2. You know your child best. It's important for you to inform the school about your child's needs. (Giving an "All About My Child" portfolio to new teachers/professionals is important.)
3. "Informed" parents really do make the best advocates for our children.
4. It's okay to jump over heads. If you don't get what you need from the teacher, it's okay to let the special education director know what's going on. If you are not satisfied with communication on that level, it's perfectly okay to jump over their head to the superintendent. Honestly, I've found that CC'ing the Superintendent on emails with other school personnel gets answers much quicker. Yes, that might make some people who aren't doing their jobs properly frustrated. That's okay and leads to the next point:
5. It won't matter in 5-10 years who you pissed off along the way (Besides your children). I used to worry about making people mad at me. I know the school likely thinks about me as "That Momma."  What will matter is that I've advocated for my child and got him the help he needed.
6. FAPE: Free "Appropriate" Public Education. The school district does not have to give our child the "Best" education possible. They're only required to give them an "Appropriate" one.
7. If it's not written, it didn't happen. Send all communications in writing via email or even better handwritten, but bring them to the office having the secretary initial, date and stamp "received". Then have her make you a copy. Talking on the phone or even in person isn't as "legal" as the written word. Follow up on all telephone communications in writing.
8. Ask for more than your child really needs. Throw in some things that would be nice to have, but not absolutely necessary. That leaves "negotiating" room.
9. Remember teachers are not the "bad guys". The majority of them have good hearts and would like to see the children they teach succeed. (They surely aren't in it for the $$$$$!) Honestly, I praise my son's teachers. With his lack of participation, refusals and other issues at school, he's a difficult child to educate. Teacher' can be good advocates for our children. When they don't provide accommodations, it's not because they don't want to.
10. Don't let emotions get in the way of your advocating. Listen. Ask questions. Stay Calm. Take deep breaths. Try your best to stay "regulated." Laugh to keep from crying if you have to. Drink water (it's impossible to drink and cry at the same time).

My Favorite Resources:

 

Some of the books about special education that I have found helpful are:

• Wright's Law Special Education Law, 2nd Edition by Peter W. D. Wright & Pamela Darr Wright (Wright's Law also has a website at http://www.wrightslaw.com/bks/selaw2/selaw2..htm)

• Wright's Law From Emotions to Advocacy by Peter and Pamela Wright

• The Complete IEP Guide by Lawrence Seigel (**This one is my favorite because it is easiest to read and has many sample letters**.)

Some websites that I have found helpful with alot of information about Special Education are:

 

http://www.specialed.us/pl-07/pl07-ieppro.html (This one is the easiest to understand)http://www.ldonline.org
http://www.bridges4kids.org
http://www.wrightslaw.com
http://www.schoolbehavior.com/Files/tips_mood.pdf.  http://www.schoolbehavior.com.  (I love the accommodation lists on this one)

Parent Reports to help the school get to know your child:

http://www.conductdisorders.com/community/threads/parent-report-updated.225/#axzz3gHKHcrVM
http://www.spanadvocacy.org/sites/g/files/g524681/f/files/All%20About%20my%20Child%20Guide.pdf

Claire Gagan said "Knowledge will bring you the opportunity to make a difference." Educate yourself on the things it takes to advocate for your child. You can make the most difference in their world.

Janice, from MA aka "Honeybunches' Momma"

Autism Educational Series—Routines—"Quirks and Chaos"

Lisa Smith is the fifty-two-year old mother of seven children ranging in ages eleven to twenty-seven. Lisa's youngest two children have special needs. Lisa's blog called Quirks and Chaos entertains and educates as she discusses parenting, autism, adoption, Fetal Alcohol Syndrome (FAS) and ADHD. Find Lisa on Facebook at Quirks and Chaos.

 

 Routine is something most parents know about. Infants often fall into a schedule of eating and sleeping that a parent can set the clock by. Toddlers need routine so they will be well rested and feel secure. A parent might arrange their schedule around the child’s nap or feeding schedule, knowing just how much “wiggle room” they have before their child goes from happy to irritable. But as the child ages, the routine can be altered more with less of a price to pay. Times and routine can be changed without huge consequences. And eventually the words “change of plans” or “spur of the moment” do not strike fear into that parental heart at all. Their older child can be flexible in ways the younger child never could be. Life becomes easier for the whole family then. Unless…. Unless your child never outgrows the need for a strict routine. And the routine becomes even more important to them. And those irritable times the baby had when their routine was changed are NOTHING compared to the meltdown the older child with autism has when his routine is changed and he cannot count on the predictability his schedule offers him.

One of the first things we hear about when we set foot into the world of autism is routine. A child with autism often “needs” a strict routine. It is true that a huge percentage of children with autism have far less anxiety if they know what to expect next. Many children with autism do much better if they have a routine they can count on and their routine is kept. Unscheduled events, unfamiliar surroundings and unexpected happenings are met with resistance and even the dreaded meltdowns we in the autism community know so well. Something that seems so small to us might be a deal breaker to a person with autism. They “need” to be able to know what comes next.

Sometimes a caregiver can set a precedent for a person with autism before we even know what happened. Driving the same route several times in a row to get to your destination is one example of this. Sitting in the same seats around the kitchen table at every meal, using the same door every time you enter and exit your home, always using the same color or style of cup (or almost anything else), these things can become “set in stone” for the person with autism. Once a precedent is set it will not be easily changed. If you have a child with autism and have not experienced the rigidity and importance of routine then count yourself very lucky. Some of us have had the experience of negotiating with autism for even very small changes in our child’s routine and come out of the negotiations feeling victorious if we even got a concession as small as our child accepting a different color toothbrush or a different blanket on the bed.

Having said all of that, it is very important for the person with autism to learn flexibility, which is much easier said than done. My son Tate is my sixth child. Because Tate had so many older siblings involved in many activities, his schedule as an infant and toddler was nothing like I had adhered to for his oldest siblings. Tate had to take many naps in his car seat instead of in his crib. He spent many evenings in a stroller sitting at a ball field. He visited their schools for parties and other events. He was held, touched, crowded, kissed, talked to, and played with all day long in a variety of setting by a variety of different personalities. Long before I knew Tate had autism I was providing “therapies” that were teaching him to be flexible. However, even with that lack of unbending routine, Tate managed to develop some need for it. A detour sign when driving from one town to another could cause Tate a lot of anxiety. Changing the location or the style of the Christmas tree we used one year almost ruined everyone’s Christmas because Tate was so miserable about it. A parent being out of town for a few days can be torturous for my son. These things may seem like small adjustments to make for most of us but the anxiety they can cause a person with autism is far too real and painful to be counted as small. Routine equals security for the person with autism. Knowing what comes next and being able to count on that sameness can keep anxiety at bay. Unpredictability is the proverbial fingernails on the chalkboard when you live with autism.

Autism Educational Series—Empathy—"It's Brock's World and We Just Live in It"

After her son received an official diagnosis of autism and sensory processing disorder, Lindsay was handed some paperwork with a pat on the back followed by a "good luck you got this." She was confused as to where to go from there, so she did endless research and took to her pen and paper, thus starting "It's Brock's World We Just Live In It." She's been featured on The Mighty, Good News Network, Godvine, and Fox News, when my son's love of The Men in Blue turned into him inviting our whole local police department to his 7th birthday party. You can find Lindsay on Facebook at It's Brock's World and We Just Live in It.

 

 

Autism Vs. Empathy

 

It all started at a park one day a few years ago. My son Brock, who is on the autism spectrum, met a new friend while playing on the slides. Everything was going well until his new friend fell down and got hurt. Everyone crowded around the child, asking if he was OK, as tears were filling his eyes, except for Brock.

 

I heard it first—a loud bubble of laughter erupted from his chest—and then all eyes were on him as he fell to the ground in hysterics. I rushed to Brock as fast as I could to try and remove him from the situation, but not before a few parents started yelling that my child was extremely rude. Which, if I didn't know Brock I'd have to agree—laughing when someone is crying is rude. But what they didn't notice were Brock's nervous ticks while he was laughing. He'll usually start sucking on his clothes, pulling his ears, and sometimes pacing back and forth. I knew Brock wasn't laughing because he thought it was funny—he was scared for his friend and showing it in the only way he knew how.

 

When Brock was going through testing to see if he was on the autism spectrum I had to fill out tons of questionnaires. A lot of questions had to do with emotions such as: Does your child's facial expressions coincide with what's going on? Check yes or no. I obviously checked no. Does your child express empathy properly? Again, I checked no. Laughing or sometimes walking away wouldn't be considered expressing empathy properly, or so I thought.

 

One of the questions I'm asked frequently is if Brock lacks empathy, or if it's even possible for someone on the autism spectrum to have any empathy? If you're not looking closely it may appear that way, but if you look a little deeper you'll see that it's entirely possible to be empathetic while not expressing it in the conventional way.

 

Society expects us to all act a certain way, and if we don't we're considered to be different. We're all expected to conform to society's standards, and not look at life through other peoples' eyes. It's expected that because Brock has autism, I'm going to teach him basically not to act autistic. Sure, I want him to know right and wrong, and what's appropriate and what's not, but I think it's unrealistic to want me to change my child completely because he doesn't "fit" with what everyone else does.

 

Empathy is defined as the ability to understand and share the feelings of another. I think Brock fully understands what others are feeling, but he just can't express it the way some may be looking for. I can count on one hand the number of times he's told me "I love you" with words, and I'm not going to lie, it used to hurt. But since I've gotten to know my son in the seven years he's been alive I can say with 100% certainty that he is able to express his love without words. Sometimes it's in a high five, other times he pats my back just a little bit longer, or squeezes my shoulder. There is no right or wrong way to express ones feelings. So to answer the question: "Is it possible for someone on the autism spectrum to express empathy?" As a mother who has spent the last seven years raising a child on the spectrum, and learning everything there is to know about him up to this point, I'd have to say without a doubt, yes.

Autism Educational Series—6 Things I Want You To Know about Non-Verbal Autism—"Stories About Autism"

James is a dad of 2 boys, Jude and Tommy, who are both autistic. Originally from London, they now live in a little place called Burnham-on-Crouch, in the UK.

 

Recently he's decided to use all the extra time he gets during those sleepless nights to write a blog about his family's life called Stories About Autism, talking about the rollercoaster they find themselves on.

 

If you like his post you can also find him on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram, where he'd love you to come and say hello! He also had an article published recently on The Mighty.

 

6 Things I want you to know about Non-Verbal Autism

 

I’m a proud dad to my two boys, Jude (7) and Tommy (4). I had huge and wonderful plans for what our lives would be like, what being a dad would be like, and the sorts of things that we’d do together.

 

So far, I’ve not so much had to adapt those plans; instead, to rip them up and start all over again.

 

Jude and tommy are autistic, having both been diagnosed at 18 months old. It’s a word and a world I knew next to nothing about back then.

 

The last 6 years have been an eye opener to say the least, as I’ve desperately tried to learn as much as I can about autism to help them have better lives. They have sensory issues to deal with, anxiety, sleep problems, and self-harming issues.  But the one thing that makes all of this more challenging is their communication problems. You see, they are both currently non-verbal. I never once thought that 7 years down the line I still would not have had a two-way conversation with them, or even that I’d never have heard them say 'Dad.' So trying to find a way to understand what they want and how they feel is everything to us, and a daily battle.

 

Most people who I meet who know little about my boys seem to be shocked by that fact. I explain that they are autistic, but when they discover they are non-verbal too, it takes them aback.  So here’s 6 things I want you to know about non-verbal autism:

 

1) Non-verbal is not that rare.

 

Let’s be honest, it’s not the autism most of the world is familiar with. It’s not the Rain Man, slightly strange, gifted type of autism people expect. Instead, it’s the less media-friendly, extremely difficult, severe end of the spectrum that people know very little about.  Yet latest research suggests being non-verbal applies to nearly 25% of people who are on the autism spectrum.

 

2) Being non-verbal is really challenging.

 

Think about it for a second.

 

Imagine being 7 years old, and wanting to tell someone that you really need a drink. You can’t say it out loud; the sounds you make don’t seem to be understood. You can’t write it down, holding a pen is too much of a commitment, let alone trying to make a mark on a page. Every other communication method your parents have tried so far just doesn’t seem to make sense. All you feel able to do is lead somebody by the hand and thrust them towards the area where you think there might be a drink. Maybe if I push them towards the tap they’ll understand, but even that can feel overwhelming sometimes.

 

If everything you ever wanted or needed during a day could only be achieved with all of this effort it’s likely you’d start to feel frustrated. Frustrated with yourself that you’re unable to find an easier way to be understood. Frustrated with your mum and dad who just can’t get it right first time, every time, frustrated that at times the world seems so confusing. When you have to battle with this frustration day-in-day-out it makes being non-verbal extremely challenging

 

3) Non-verbal doesn’t mean silent.

 

Just because Jude and Tommy can’t speak right now doesn’t mean my house is silent.  Far from it; in fact, they probably make more noise than kids who do speak.

 

Jude and Tommy both vocalise continuously, whether they’re with people or on their own. Their sounds are mainly ways of expressing their emotions, and can be purely for their own enjoyment.  If they’re having fun they’re loud and let the world know about it. If they’re feeling upset or anxious, they’re twice as loud!

 

4) Non-verbal doesn’t mean they don’t understand you.

 

It can be easy to assume that because someone is non-verbal that their understanding of language is limited too. Wrong!

 

My boys constantly surprise me with how much they understand on a daily basis. Just because they can’t say the word doesn’t mean they don’t understand what it means. As long as you keep your language simple and clear there’s a good chance they will know what you are telling them. Whether they want to respond or comply with what you say to them is another problem all together!

 

5) Communication is so much more than verbal.

 

Spoken language is only one part of how we communicate together.

 

Body language, tone, and expression are all just as important. So whilst Jude and Tommy may be lacking in the verbal department, we are able to communicate in so many more ways. They are really able to sense a person’s feelings towards them without the need for words to be spoken. If you spend time in their company, be relaxed, be accepting, and be non-judgmental. They can feel it, and they will want to interact with you when you are giving off these vibes.

 

You don’t need to talk to them to show how you feel, your body language and expressions are more than enough for them.

 

6) Non-verbal doesn’t mean it’s permanent.

 

I’ll never give up the dream that one day I’ll be able to have a conversation with my boys. Right now we’re a fair way behind, but we’re not working to the same timescale as the rest of the world. There’s no rush here. There are hundreds, thousands of stories of people developing language on the autism spectrum, at all different ages of childhood, and adulthood. Whilst we work on finding other ways to help them communicate apart from speech, so that their world will open up even more, I’ll never give up on the dream that one day they will have some spoken language, and we will have a conversation together.

 

Just because they’re unable to speak today doesn’t mean they won’t speak tomorrow.

Autism Educational Series—Asperger's and Violence—"Aimlessly Shameless"

Brian Packard, blessed husband of Anne for 26 years, and proud father of Jeff and Sam.

Jeff "J.D." Packard is a 19-year-old college student diagnosed with Asperger’s since he was 16. He was originally diagnosed at the age of 6 with ADHD and again with the same diagnosis at age 12. A self-proclaimed nerd and pizza delivery guy extraordinaire, he’s studying electronic crime with the hope of becoming a computer technician if he’s unlucky, and a professional writer and Youtube video maker if he is lucky. His blog, Aimlessly Shameless (where this post was originally published), has the stated goal of “increasing understanding to decrease frustration,” essentially intending to keep other families from dealing with 18 solid years of constant argument and struggle like he and his parents did. J.D. has a 15-year-old younger brother (Sam) who is the greatest musical genius the universe has ever known, and he lives in Ames, Iowa, with said genius, his parents and two dogs: Daisy, the basset hound and true boss of the family and Gretchen, a ballistic missile/piranha crossbreed (usually called a miniature dachshund).

Well, this is going to be a bit of an unusual post for me. I don’t normally deal with anything this serious; if you’ve read my blog you know it’s usually me complaining about something for a few paragraphs or so. Much as I enjoy complaining, there’s something a bit more…weighty, shall we say, that I feel needs to be addressed.

On October 1st I was in class when one of the students, browsing CNN during a five-minute break, reported to the teacher that there had been a college shooting in Oregon. Naturally, I and everyone else who had brought a laptop to class immediately hopped over to the news websites to follow the situation. I don’t recall very much else of note happening during the day – I don’t make a habit of following the news and this wasn’t much of an exception, as horrible of a person as that makes me sound like. To be honest, there didn’t seem to be a lot of information available that day anyhow.

After the fact, I talked with my dad about the issue with school shootings. Among other things we talked about the relation between these shootings and autism. At the time, I wondered if the UCC shooter would be revealed to have Asperger’s or autism. Turns out I may have been right – some Googling shows that the guy’s mother at least claims she had Asperger’s and so did her son. Jury’s out on the accuracy of this information so please cut me some slack if that’s not right. I feel what I need to say this anyway.

With this information and also with the Newtown shooting a few years ago, the shooter was linked with Asperger’s. I would like to stress that most people on the spectrum absolutely will not be involved in anything like this. To quote statistics from my criminal justice class, most people with any form of mental illness are in fact many times more likely to be the victims in a criminal act than the perpetrators.

As an example I submit myself and one of my friends – the only two people that I both know relatively well and know to have an official diagnosis of Asperger’s syndrome. Neither of us are particularly likely to do anything like this – my friend is perhaps the overall nicest person I’ve ever met in my life and while I do lose my temper from time to time and it tends to involve a lot of yelling and swearing, I have an extremely long fuse and I absolutely refuse to vent my anger through violence – I’ve done that, and after a broken door, two holes in the drywall and a busted monitor, I’ve decided I don’t care for breaking things, much less people.

That said, I can…well, sort of…make a guess at how someone with Asperger’s could get so far gone as to consider unloading a gun into a school. The disorder’s biggest problem has always been the immense negative impact it has on communication and interacting with one’s peers. Without a group of friends around them to provide support, and with family unwilling or unable to help fill the gap, it’s relatively easy to see the consequences. They may not be murderous, or even criminal, but they’re always destructive.

Finally I’d like to say something, though first I’ll qualify it by saying I do not in any way condone these actions. At all. Seriously, this is some of the most abhorrent behavior I can possibly conceive of and I do not make that statement lightly. But these shooters are people too. They’re lashing out for whatever reason and we as a society can stop it. They may feel like outcasts, like they’ve never had anyone they could call a friend, never had anyone to listen to them, to share a laugh or a smile with. And they don’t just snap all of a sudden – typically, according to a lecture on active shooter situations I attended at my college, they will post something to social media or mention their plans to someone.

Basically what I’m saying is that I believe the best option by far is to reach out and never let anyone fall so far that the only thing they can think to do is to resort to hideous acts like this. I don’t know how – I’ve never been good at reaching out and connecting with people and I won’t pretend to for the sake of appearing competent in a blog post. But there’s a way to stop this. The first casualty of every shooting is the shooter. If we save them, we spare dozens if not hundreds of families unimaginable pain and heartbreak. That can’t be anything but good, right?