The Speed of Dark

M- has done so well the past few weeks with his cellphone–both making and receiving calls–that I didn’t expect a glitch today.    I phoned him when I reached Austin, to tell him I could pick him up at the bus stop west of Northcross Mall, to take him to supper before ice skating, as it was raining.   R-, who rode with him the first times,  had told me which bus stop he got off at.    I thought M- understood and would repeat what he’d done before. Read the rest of this entry »

Last week, M- soloed on Thursday and a wild Thursday it was.  Today was a completely different after-class schedule–two buses, but not the same two buses, all the way out of the city to the terminus at Leander.    We dropped him off, asked him to call when he got to campus, and again when he caught the second afternoon bus…or if he had a problem. Read the rest of this entry »

You’ve probably heard of this movie.   If not, or if, having heard of it, you had reservations about it (I did), here’s the good news: it’s better than you think.  It’s an incredible, brilliant movie that shows Temple Grandin’s triumph over both the problems autism gave her, and the society that did not have a clue and did not believe autistic people had a future.   And it shows the value of her life’s work, her designs for livestock management.  Because of her, half the livestock facilities in the world–not just here–handle their stock more humanely.  And–(yes, there’s more) it shows how she thinks–because it is a visual medium, a movie can show the pictures she thinks with. Read the rest of this entry »

We’d planned to have a parent ride the buses with M- and be available nearby on campus for the first month…but a combination of things (including M- commenting on the way home one night in the second week that he thought it would be more fun when he could go alone)  led to this morning…we dropped him off at the bus station 20 miles closer to the city, where the express bus runs to downtown.  From there he would transfer to a local headed back north and end up at the campus.   He was supposed to call us from campus when he arrived, which should’ve been about 8 am.

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M-‘s second week of college was complicated by other medical problems in the family, but he is still happy to be going and engaged in his classes.   He is taking notes in class, and can usually give a moderately coherent report of the class.   He is working diligently on his homework.  He survived his first in-class quiz (pre-algebra) and made a passing grade (78/100.)   That’s higher than I made on my first calculus quiz and higher than he made on his assessment test before entry, so we’re very pleased.   Read the rest of this entry »

One of the things many parents wonder about–and worry about–is whether their kid with disabilities will be able to go to college.   It’s pretty easy, sometimes, to come up with a firm “No, sorry, this child will simply never be able to attend college” and at that point concern can shift to other ways to prepare the child for adult life.  And sometimes it’s pretty easy to see that a given child will be able to–colleges now accommodate students in wheelchairs, for instance, much better than they did fifty years ago, when simply being unable to walk unaided barred wheel-chair bound students who could not reach classrooms or labs or rooms in the dorms.

It’s the borderline ones–the “maybe” cases–that cause parents the most angst.  I know, because I have one of those.    And yet…in time, with enough hard work from everyone involved…sometimes “maybe” turns to “yes.”   Yesterday we had a taste of “yes.” Read the rest of this entry »

This evening our son came over to the house around 7 pm.    I was polishing silver.  He said “Hi” and I said “Hi” and he wandered around in a vague sort of way.  I asked if he’d eaten supper yet and he said yes, he’d had spaghetti and meatballs.  I finished the spoons I was working on, put them away, and went back to my study to get some work done until Richard came in from the land, since M- hadn’t said he wanted anything and he often uses Richard’s computer (it has broadband.  His house doesn’t.)

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I had a lovely visit to Clemson University earlier this week.  The Speed of Dark had been chosen for the freshman summer reading, and I was invited to come speak to the freshman class (as well as meeting some faculty, trustees, administration, and more senior students.)

Two things in particular impressed me.  One was finding out that Clemson has a student organization for autism awareness, founded by some remarkable students with innovative ideas.  I met three of them–two were pre-med with hands-on experience with disabled kids.  Wow!   The other was hearing that the book opened a dialogue among faculty and administration members who had people on the spectrum in their families, but had previously felt isolated–unaware of the number of people in their community who were affected.

This is not the first “group reading” I’ve heard of that opened the topic among friends and colleagues, and it always moves me to that “blurry screen moment.”   I think, in part, it’s because Lou is not a scary character–he’s someone people can talk about without wincing.     At any rate, I’m grateful to have the book having such good effects, where it does.

So, many thanks to Clemson U. for choosing the book, and inviting me.  I met fascinating people, saw a beautiful campus, and got to speak to over 3000 people…talking about how it was to discover our son was autistic and how rewarding, as well as challenging (probably because it was challenging), the experience has been.   Some of these freshmen will have a child on the spectrum–if they can come to that experience without the fear so many have suffered with, if they can feel free to use their own intelligence and creativity to work with their child, then that’s a great benefit to them, their children, and society.

Sometimes I feel like jumping up and screaming “FINALLY!” at the research end of things.   This summer there have been several really good research reports, some mentioned in national media as well, on autism-spectrum issues.  But what I want to highlight tonight is the one that sparked the “FINALLY!” reaction.

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In another venue someone asked if anyone else’s child on the autism spectrum hated to hear their mother sing.

My answer was yes: when our son was pre-verbal, he didn’t much like singing at all (with the exception of a lullaby I’d made up for him early on) but he did like music…until the 18 months when he didn’t.   For about two years I was choir director for a very small church’s very small choir, and I could not have him in the church while we rehearsed–he’d scream the whole time.

Once he began to talk (a process that took years to achieve) he complained about singing.  He liked music–he liked to have me play the piano, and began playing himself very early–but singing, especially in groups, seemed almost to hurt him.   (His early ability on the piano, combined with being nonverbal, made us consider if he might be a musical savant.  Not many preschoolers will start playing along with very complex difficult classical music.)

Though he gradually came to accept some vocal music, with a single (very good) singer,  things changed again for an 18 month period.   Suddenly (as in, within one week) he could not stand any music at all, even music he had enjoyed before.   Music in the mall, music in a restaurant, music on the radio or TV–none of it.   His language  at this stage was what is called “right-brain”–the way people speak who have had damage to their left-brain auditory processor,  the main language center (Broca’s area.)  Stilted and downright peculiar syntax, little emotional expression, etc.    And music is processed (for most people) mostly in the right-brain auditory processor.  Were the two interfering when both words and music came in together?

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