I Won’t Give Up

We’ve had quite a week. G has had a rocky time of it in PE. He’s got motor issues, he’s at least one full year younger than his classmates, he’s competitive to the extreme and when he’s frustrated, he still struggles not to react by hitting. You couldn’t put together a more combustible combination. The school OT attends PE with him once a week to help him in all these areas. She also attends with kids on IEP’s the first year of Intermediate school because the gym teacher there is, “Old School.” Apparently he’s been in this position for several decades and can be rough on the kids he doesn’t understand. So she attends with the student in an effort to smooth the way.

The first trimester, G hit kids so often that a contract/reward system was implemented. When G had 10 recorded classes without hitting, he earned a trip to the ice cream store with a friend and the school psychologist, on school time. Big reward for a big undertaking. But by the end of the first trimester, he’d earned his trip! Second trimester started out wonderfully – G was participating to the best of his ability and his outbursts were greatly diminished. When he did get frustrated, his meltdowns were verbal in nature. Not great in the context of a typical 4th grader, but outstanding for G! On the weekly reflection sheets his class fills out on Friday’s, G consistently wrote that he planned to work the following week on his behavior in PE. He was highly motivated and we were getting nothing but good reports.

Then last week while at work, I got a call from the OT letting me know she’d be late for her time with my student. Because she needed to stay with my son, who was recovering from a rather severe meltdown. She’d been with him at PE where the activity was Dodgeball. (told you, this gym teacher is old school) G couldn’t follow the strategy and stood in the front of the group. He got hit, got frustrated and sat down where he was instead of moving off the floor. Another boy didn’t realize he was already out and hit him again. That was it for G, he went completely off and started screaming. When the OT stepped in, he started screaming at her and said rude things. But – and here’s the big thing – he never hit. Never even tried to hit, never faked hitting, just screamed and yelled. So the OT and I celebrated, as well we should!

Then report cards came. G failed PE. In a trimester where he made so much progress. DH and I were stunned, G was disappointed, but overall my attitude was to blow it off because it’s just PE and it’s just 4th grade. Honestly, my attitude didn’t change until our trimester conference with his classroom teacher. The kids write out a script and run the show. When G ran down his list and got to what he was most proud of, he said, “Well, I wrote that I was most proud of my work in PE, but that was before I got my grades.” On the way home, he asked if 0’s exist for report cards. When I said no, he made a remark about not needing to try hard to keep from getting lower grades in PE.

That started a slow burn in me. I went home and wrote a very polite and proactive email to the OT and school psychologist, letting them know to watch out for G the next week, as it seemed he’d given up trying to behave in PE. In our discussions, it became clear the grade was assigned because of the one bad day rather than the trimester as a whole. They were both shocked and not shocked that the teacher had reacted to G’s screaming meltdown so drastically. Somehow, the idea that this was typical for the teacher made it even worse for me. I went to bed very irritated. I woke up at 3am feeling mad and was awake for an hour until I could calm down and fall asleep again. When I woke up at 6, I was just plain furious.

I met with the school psychologist and vented about how angry I was. I’m never combative, I’m always willing to discuss and negotiate, to work together to achieve a particular goal. Not this time. We wrote up language for G’s IEP to prevent this from happening again. I told her that was good, but not enough. I was calling the principal to demand the grades be changed. On my way home, left a message requesting an appointment with the principal to discuss a problem with the gym teacher. This is big, because we’re a small-town, ‘I’ll just pop-in’ kind of system. But I didn’t want to risk being blown off. The admin assistant and the principal took this very seriously.

By the time I got to the school to talk to the principal, the psychologist had already talked to him. He was very attentive, went over my concerns, gave me an initial agreement and asked for time to talk with the PE teacher. When I asked for the grades to be changed, he told me he couldn’t promise anything because he didn’t have the authority to question teacher’s evaluations. But the next morning at drop off, he pulled me aside to let me know that he had spoken with the teacher and G’s grades would be revised by the end of the day!

They didn’t go up much, but it was enough for G to feel he’d made progress instead of failing. And that was all I wanted. G is proud of himself again. He’s motivated to keep trying. Isn’t that all we want of our kids? A new system, that is still being determined, will be put in place where G will know that 0-4ish outbursts (of any kind) in a trimester is a 1 (A) for sportsmanship, 4ish to 8ish is a 2, etc. And G’s skill development grade will be determined by observing him for two weeks as a baseline first, instead of comparing him to older, neuro-typical peers.

I feel as if I fought a dragon and won! I know we’re so lucky to be in such a wonderfully supportive school system. This was one icky teacher in a system of great ones, with a principal who truly puts the student first. Still, on the way home from school, I put this song on my ipod on a continuous loop. It’s supposed to be a love song, but to me it’s become an anthem for fighting for our kids.

Published in: on March 2, 2012 at 6:58 pm  Comments (1)  

Motives Vs Methods

There is a series of posts at the Thinking Person’s Guide to Autism discussing the role of parents and self-advocates in the disability rights movement that is quite fascinating. I have opinions, but not particularly passionate ones, so the debate in the comment section has been both clarifying and thought provoking at times.

In particular, there is a post written by a woman with autism who discussed how it made her feel to realize her parents had stacks of books about parenting just for her and how she felt going to various therapies. It contrasted what her parents were doing with how it made her feel. It gave me a lot to think about in the context of a conversation I recently had with G.

We were at the dinner table, discussing an incident at school that day. G was at recess when the teacher started calling kids to line up. G ran for the line and passed a boy who was sitting on the ground, still playing. G told him it was time to line up. The boy, who hadn’t heard the teacher, refused to comply and continued his activity. G, who becomes intensely frustrated when the rules aren’t followed, kicked the boy in the head. Hard. Like the boy’s head was a soccer ball. The incident was severe enough that the boys parents had to be notified.

So naturally, we were discussing what had happened, how G felt and how he should have appropriately responded to his feelings. G kept arguing that he couldn’t help it and would have to react the same way each time. It was not the first time, or even the hundredth time, we’d had this conversation on hitting. I admit, I got frustrated to the point where I told him flat out that he was wrong, that his job as a student was not to enforce the rules but to follow the rules. After a few minutes, G said quietly, “I know you don’t like my autism brain because you’re always trying to change it. But I can’t help the things my autism brain makes me feel.”

It was a stab in the heart. I love my boy more than anything and I firmly believe that with G’s intelligence and unique way of thinking, he can change the world. And I believe to have the successful life of his choosing, he’ll need to learn certain social skills to navigate in society. I always equate it to living in a foreign country. If I were to move to Poland tomorrow, I’d have to learn to speak Polish. I could relax and speak English at home with my English speaking family, and I might be able to find some English speaking Poles to help me from time to time, but the majority of my time in Polish society, I’d have to work my brain to translate my thoughts so I could get my needs met. But in my zeal to teach G Polish, had I pushed too hard and damaged his self-esteem?

The article on the Thinking Person’s Guide to Autism has made me examine my methods vs my motives. In the particular example I gave with G, I feel comfortable with how I handled it and can forgive my frustration. Because physical violence as a manifestation of frustration is clearly wrong, and not taking a firm stand on that now may land him in jail later. But what about the larger context of my parenting style? Am I doing enough to show G how much I love his unique differences? Am I taking the time to celebrate his autism brain the way I should? Am I praising and rewarding G when he reacts ‘appropriately’ in social situations or only criticizing his ‘mistakes?’ Am I creating a home environment where he can relax after a day in school, or am I forcing him to speak more Polish? Am I spending enough time simply enjoying G’s company instead of getting swept up into the early-intervention paradigm that teaches parents a day without therapy is a day wasted?

I wish I’d asked myself these questions earlier. I can see now that I need to work harder at creating a loving, validating, safe environment so when we need to have discussions on the black and white issue of hitting, it doesn’t feel like I’m adding to an already huge pile of criticism.

I’d recommend checking out the series on the Thinking Person’s Guide to Autism. Even if you don’t agree with much, there’s sure to be something there that will make you think.

Published in: on September 29, 2011 at 10:36 am  Comments (2)  

Self-Advocating

We had friends from our old town come visit us for the weekend because our town had a music festival. They have two children, one G’s age and one about 5 years younger. They come up a few weekends each winter for skiing so the kids are used to each other and generally get along well. I volunteered to watch the kids on Saturday so the adults could go take in some concerts and watched them all play together nicely, even doing some great imaginary play. That evening, we had a babysitter come in so we could all catch the nights headliner and go to dinner.

The next day, our friends returned the babysitting favor so the hubs and I could go to lunch. DH and I were in the car, backing out of the garage, when the door to the house flew open. G stood there, shoes on, jacket in hand, trying to get our attention. We stopped and rolled down the window, and G demanded to come with us. We explained that he was staying to play with his friends but he was insistent that he was coming with us.

We were perplexed. G had never, ever gone through the separation anxiety phase so we had no idea what to do. I tried being firm and telling him he was staying and we were leaving. We tried reminding him of all the fun activities planned. Our friends tried to cajole him into staying with them. Nothing worked. I took him back to his room for privacy and tried to talk with him. All he would say is, “I just want to be with you,” in the most pitiful tone of voice.

DH took him back to his room to talk with him and had more luck. Apparently, G was overstimulated from all the socializing and needed a break. As soon as we realized this, we changed our plans. G came with us to lunch and our friends went to lunch on their own. As soon as we told him what we’d decided, he broke down. He started crying and saying, “Thank you – thank you so much for listening to me.” It made me want to squeeze the stuffing out of him!

It was as if the stress trying to get us to understand what he needed kept him from being to express himself effectively. Once he knew we were taking him with us, the words poured out. He told us about how the girls were so talky and chatty that he just couldn’t handle it anymore. He was overwhelmed by the noise, chaos and disruption to our usual quiet weekend routine. He was so grateful to have a break that he let us choose the restaurant, so we were able to get the nice lunch we’d planned on. We had a lovely, peaceful outing.

On the way home, we talked about the need to be good hosts for the remainder of our friends visit, especially since they’d been so understanding about going off on their own. He was very open to that idea because he’d had the time he needed to decompress. We told G how proud we were that he was able to ask for what he needed. Even if it took us awhile to really understand what he was trying to tell us, he didn’t give up, he kept insisting he go with us until we could work out the reason. I think this could be a major turning point for G – as long as DH and I remember to listen to what our son is trying to tell us.

Published in: on September 18, 2011 at 7:22 pm  Comments (3)  

IPads for Asperger’s

We’re looking to get G an Ipad because it was recommended by our school’s autism consultant.  The theory being that if we can get him comfortable with using it now, it will make typing notes and organizing his work in the future much easier.  We had friends in town with an ipad and he absolutely loved it – for playing games.  I got him to type some quick messages but he wasn’t motivated.  He desperately wants an ipad though, so I got him to understand we wouldn’t be purchasing one unless it was used primarily for school.  (that almost broke my husband’s heart, he wants one as badly as G)

Before making such a major purchase, I started looking into apps that would be appropriate for G and quickly became overwhelmed.  I’m looking for some that will help him organize himself, type work at school and practice math facts.  He doesn’t need it for facilitating communication, although perhaps an app to help him identify or practice expressing emotions would be nice.  An app for his daily schedule would be great.  He seems to be in that middle area where some apps are too sophisticated and others not sophisticated enough. 

Then I wonder about keyboard accessories and protective cases and realize this ‘simple’ idea is becoming more complex by the minute.  Anyone been through this and have any advice?  My husband is ready to pull the trigger as soon as the ipad2 announcement, hoping that means the original ipad prices drop.

Published in: on March 1, 2011 at 9:33 pm  Leave a Comment  

Not Letting Go Yet

A couple weeks back I was worrying if I was properly advocating for G or needlessly clinging to his accommodations because I wasn’t ready for things to change.  I was afraid I was overreacting to the news that he hadn’t completed some book reports because other ‘typical’ kids were having similar issues.  In the two weeks that followed, G ever-so-helpfully weighed in on this issue by escalating the amount of work he refused.  We found out the day before the conference.

That pretty much decided the issue for me. We didn’t let G completely off the hook – we had a lengthy and very firm talk with G about his responsibility to be a good student.  Each student was to come to the conference with three possible academic goals and three possible behavior goals.  We worked with G that afternoon to develop his, which all related to cooperating and getting his work done.  We tried to talk about the reasons for the refusals to make sure there wasn’t some aspect of his disability we were overlooking, but didn’t get very far.  It’s possible we’ll come up with these answers during the next trimester.  Meanwhile, in the conference itself, we worked as a team to develop a motivational system that will earn him points and reward him for getting work done, with the big reward being dinner at his favorite steakhouse.  We also developed a punitive system that involves having unfinished work sent home so I can make sure it gets done.  (he knows I won’t let him get away with much)

Having dealt with the issue from G’s side, I turned to my concerns on the schools side.  We discussed G’s inability to bring home information to his parents and I asked for more communication from his classroom teacher.  We discussed what he is doing during his resource time and how that could be better structured to support his classroom work.  During the course of this conversation, they volunteered an extra 30 minutes of resource time each week, which was really wonderful will be very helpful.  We discussed moving book reports to resource time since it involves multiple aspects of G’s disability.  We also discussed doing book reports at home and I explained how we had no idea he was supposed to be doing book reports as an example of what we don’t learn from G in the course of a day.  When his teacher said all book report info was outlined in the homework section of the parent information packet, I pulled mine out to show her that, in fact, it wasn’t mentioned in the packet at all.  (I’d heard this line from another parent and was concerned that I’d missed something – very unlike my anal-self – so I came prepared)

I still have confidence in his school and think overall his general ed teacher is doing a very good job.  There were some kinks to be worked out and I feel they were adequately addressed.  I’m not second guessing myself anymore – as much as G has improved in the past year, he still needs support and it’s my job to ensure he gets that support.  There’s a parent support meeting next week where I plan to bring up the issue of classwork refusal to see what else we can be doing at home.

As accomplished as I felt after the conference, the best part of the entire experience was when DH and I returned home and were discussing the outcome.  We were going over the changes and how to track progress when DH commented, “You know, G couldn’t have a better advocate than you.”  Nothing in the world feels better than being appreciated by your spouse!

Published in: on December 3, 2010 at 9:49 am  Comments (1)  

Family Understanding

This month DH and I celebrated our 10th anniversary with a getaway.  Dh’s parents flew in from Florida to take G to school.  We’d created a notebook of G’s morning and afternoon routines, notified the school of potential difficulties and prepped G for the visit.  MIL is very good about following our instructions but she doesn’t fully get it.  She tends to make comments about G’s time being too structured, being expected to do too much on his own, having too much homework, going to bed too early without any downtime.  She’d really rather let him do whatever he wants, whenever he wants, doing whatever she can for him so he doesn’t have to lift a finger.  Basic grandmother spoiling, but with a kid on the spectrum it can seriously set us back.  However, I get a vacation out of it so as long as she follows the instructions we leave, I try to grin and bear it. 

This visit was an interesting one because the BOCES had invited a guest lecturer to talk about educating kids with ASD, particularly HFA and Asperger Syndrome.  It was the same day DH and I were leaving on our trip, but we were able to attend the first half, which was a broad overview of how autism can manifest in students.  What was really cool is that my in-laws attended with us and a lot of the information was particularly pertinent to G. 

Prior to this conference, we’d been getting some subtle pressure to move closer to MIL, who left our state in the past year to move to back to Florida.  She mentioned her friends telling her about some great charter schools in her area.  When I asked about how these schools accommodated kids on the spectrum, the idea that she’d need to ask about that had never occurred to her.  There wasn’t any real understanding that G needed special services, she never argued that he has autism but she didn’t really accept it either.  She also didn’t understand that we were in a magical school system for G and simply finding a similar setup in a state closer to her wasn’t a viable option.  As the interventions and options for educating students like G were discussed, and as she started to meet all of G’s teachers who were specifically attending this conference to learn how to help G, she started to understand.  We live in a motivated and progressive town of educators that really want all students to reach their full potential and are fully supported by their administration.  How often does this all come together?

But another really fascinating thing came out of this conference.  DH has a brother that we’ve suspected of being on the spectrum from the first day the possibility was raised regarding G.  Everything we learned as we researched G rang similar bells about his brother.  But DH’s family wasn’t open to that possibility so DH’s attempts to talk about it never got anywhere.  As my MIL absorbed the information presented during the overview session and read my library of books throughout the week, she started wondering if BIL, who has seen several mental-health type professionals and has gotten a variety of labels over the years, had in fact been mis-diagnosed.  She even commented on how she can see how some of the skills we’re trying to teach G, the same skills she thought we were pushing when she leaned toward babying, would have helped her son when he was a child.  It’s way to early to make predictions, but it will be interesting to see how this all pans out.  I think we’ve sewn the seeds of genuine understanding.

Published in: on October 13, 2010 at 11:20 am  Comments (1)  

People Suck. School is Awesome.

A week ago (it took me that long to calm enough to write about this) we took G to a music festival in our town that had a section with kids activities like inflatable slides and bouncy houses.  G was well rested, well fed, had calm time before we left and we had our bag stocked with earplugs and his video games.  DH took G to the bouncy house while I stayed behind with some friends. 

According to DH, he was watching G do very well bouncing with other kids.  It was relatively empty, with maybe 5 kids there when G bounced into a small girl.  It was clearly an accident.  The girl’s mother started yelling at G to watch what he was doing and to be more careful.  G didn’t respond at first, as is typical for autism and G, so she continued to loudly berate G. Then G turned to her and told her to, “Shut Up.”  Not great.  She then started to berate G for rudeness.  DH, who had been trying to intervene throughout this exchange, got G out of the bouncy house, let the lady know the initial incident was an accident and started to get G’s shoe’s on.  The lady demanded an apology, so DH apologized for G’s rudeness.  The lady then told DH she wanted the apology from G because G needed to respect his elders.  At which point, DH told her that G was autistic and couldn’t understand why she was still yelling at him for an accident.  He got G away from her without waiting for a response.

I get that she was upset because her daughter was knocked over.  But it was a bouncy house, that’s going to happen.  I absolutely understand that a child telling an adult to shut up is inappropriate.  However, this is an example of how what is completely unacceptable to one family is great progress to another.  Noise and chaos is difficult for G.  A stranger loudly yelling at G is stressful.  But he didn’t meltdown, shriek wordlessly or strike out at the closest child to vent his frustration.  (which probably would have been this lady’s daughter)   In this situation, he used words instead of action and correctly targeted the source of his frustration.   I’ve mentioned before that for G to replace aggressive behavior with words, the words must feel like a satisfying replacement.  If we tried to teach him to say, “ma’am, please lower your voice, I can’t think to respond when you’re yelling,”  we’d never get anywhere. 

And I have to say, I’m pretty pissed that the woman even thought yelling at G was acceptable.  DH was standing right there, I dare say hovering because that’s what we do, so why didn’t she turn to DH to resolve the issue before yelling at someone else’s child?  G is rude and needs to respect his elders but she can be an aggressive, interfering boar?  What kind of example of the behavior she seeks is that?  People suck.

On the other hand, school is awesome.  G is doing really well.  All kids go to technology class once a week, and at the start of the year they take tests on the computer to evaluate their reading and math skills.  The program used is one where the more correct answers the child gives, the harder the questions get and the scores determine which kids need to go to enrichment.  G’s reading scores were about average for the enrichment group and his math score was one of the – if not the highest.  And this is after skipping a grade!  We had a meeting to discuss his learning plan for the year and I was bursting with pride.  I also got some great tips from an article over at The Thinking Person’s Guide to Autism regarding reading comprehension that I think will really help him succeed. 

They allow some non-fiction for reading comprehension but really stress working on fiction.  So I used the wording from the article to explain social assumptions often used in fiction and how that can be difficult for someone with autism.  It sparked a good discussion on what those social assumptions are, how more straight forward fiction is better and G’s teacher was able to add to the discussion to give examples of where G has trouble retelling the story when motivations are assumed to be understood instead of explained outright.  I feel really good about his plan and think the team really gets where G is coming from.

If only the rest of the world could too.

Published in: on September 27, 2010 at 10:03 am  Comments (6)  

Highs and Lows Part II

I’m having such an emotional day.  We took G to our town’s park to enjoy the nice day and he wanted to ‘ride’ his bike.  I’ve read anecdotal reports of difficulty riding a bike being linked to asperger’s and can definitely say that is true in our case.  DH has taken the pedals off G’s bike so it’s a big strider bike and that works best for now, G needs to get more comfortable with steering and show that he can take his feet off the ground before adding pedals.  He gets lots of looks and stares because he’s this giant kid very awkwardly pushing himself around.  Usually it isn’t a big deal but today it really got under my skin.  I caught myself glaring at people for daring to look at my child.
 
After riding around he wanted to play on the playground and ran into a couple classmates from kindergarten.  He was able to approach the boys and join their game smoothly.  DH and I didn’t have to sit right next to G to make sure he understood all the social stuff, we were able to sit back a distance and enjoy the sun.  We also noticed that while G’s language is still stilted and slower than the other boys, his ability to express himself has really improved this year.  One of the boys got frustrated with him and asked him to stop doing something, which is usually when G would react by hitting.  This time, he just stopped.  No yelling, no meltdown, no hitting – he just stopped and moved onto a different activity.
 
Then the two boys ran off to do something else.  They didn’t try to include G or bring G along with them.  And G didn’t even notice.  He just sat where he was and continued collecting sticks (I think they were pretending to build a campfire) and arranging them just so.  He was content so I guess I should be too, but it twisted my heart.  G has grown so much this year and I’m incredibly proud of him.  But I admit I’m a little discouraged to realize that even with all this tremendous progress, there is still so far to go.
Published in: on May 23, 2010 at 10:18 pm  Comments (1)  

Judgement

Two days ago I read a blog post that stopped me in my tracks.  You may have already seen smockity’s post on a rude, impatient, persistent little girl she encountered at her library.  A girl who, based on her description, was likely autistic.

Smockity has since removed the post from her site, but there is a cached version on Emily’s blog if you’re interested.  However, I really don’t recommend reading it.  I wish I hadn’t.

I’d followed the link over to smockity’s blog to see what had inspired such indignation and anger … and felt like I’d been kicked in the stomach.  The little girl she was making fun of – that could have been my G.  In fact, it has been my G.  G is highly ‘functional’ in that he can speak clearly and can use vocabulary words way above his age level.  Because of the BWS I’ve recently mentioned, he’s large.  This means I have a 6 year old who looks like an 8 year old, sometimes speaks like an 11 year old, but in social situations, acts like a 4 year old.

However, keeping him home doesn’t teach him anything.  So we go out into the world to provide learning experiences.  Where I come in contact with other mothers.  Mothers who don’t understand why G insists on playing tag with their child when the child’s body language clearly says they’re not interested.  Mothers who get irritated with G when he doesn’t let their toddler cut in line for the slide.  Mothers who look at me like I’m an overprotective ‘helicopter mom’ as I closely follow G around the playground, trying to provide the information he needs to interpret and navigate each social situation.

Over time, I’ve grown immune to the looks.  I turn my back on them, tunnel my vision so I only see G.  But to read a first hand account of what they may be thinking, the judgement they’re passing – it really hurt.  Why can’t the other mothers see that G is different, that he doesn’t yet have the skills they expect of him?  Why can’t they see how far he’s come in learning how to socialize with other children?  Why do they write him off as a brat because of my parenting and assume if he were their child they could do any better?  Autism is in the paper everywhere, particularly after the mmr retraction, why doesn’t autism occur to them?  Why can’t they see how hard he’s working just to get by?

I work so hard every day, making sure I don’t miss any teachable moments.  Creating artificial scenarios at home to practice skills.  Thinking years into the future, breaking lessons down into baby steps, always working toward a long term goal of total inclusion.  But reading smockity’s post – it makes me tired.  I read her post two days ago and have been waiting for my righteous indignation and anger to kick in.  But it’s not there.  I’m so tired of struggling to teach G the social skills society requires to be ‘acceptable,’ to make sure he’s not shut out of an experience against his will, only to realize society is coldly unaccepting.

I’ll pick myself up next week and keep fighting for G.  Teaching G what he needs to know to live the happy, fulfilling life of his choosing.  But this week – I’m just tired.

Published in: on March 27, 2010 at 8:50 am  Comments (9)  

Exposure

G’s school has been selected to participate in a pilot program whereby his school was designated as a model school for autism.  It’s done in conjunction with specialists from one or more universities in our state where they observe the ASD students in the school and work to develop new methods to properly support the students.  There is teacher training and parent coaching sessions associated with this program and we are super excited. 

Yesterday, we were approached to sign a release allowing G and his class to be videotaped for training purposes.  Apparently all the ASD students and their classes will need to sign similar releases.  DH was reluctant and read every word of the release before signing.  I was not bothered by it at all and was curious about DH’s reservations.  He told me that when he was in high school he dated a girl with multiple physical disabilities who had been photographed as a child.  That photograph was used in a national charity’s advertising campaign for years and the girl absolutely hated it.  She felt she continued to be used by the charity because she looked pathetic enough to elicit pity donations.

That story has given me lots to think about.  I want any video taken of G to be positive – to be used to show educators that with proper support kids with autism can thrive and achieve anything.  The idea that it might be used as a cautionary tale or that it might haunt him well into adulthood is something I hadn’t really considered.  We signed the release so I guess we’ll just have to see how it all plays out.  I always want to believe that people’s motivations are good and that our school is doing it’s best by G and I plan to maintain my positive outlook until proven otherwise.  But I am glad I have DH on my team to provide a dose of reality when it’s necessary.

Published in: on March 10, 2010 at 11:18 am  Leave a Comment