Ok, guys. I've officially recovered from the Independence Day weekend. It was a fun weekend and I got to see loads of fireworks! I was with family out of town and I've been back since Sunday. Toledo's Red, White, KaBOOM! firework show was so massive, it felt like we were driving in fog at around 1:30, 2:00 in the morning Sunday! It must've been a great show.
Anyway, I wanted to give you guys the blog I promised you I'd give you last Friday, but as I said, I was with family out of town for four days. I wanted to talk to you about two topics that everybody struggles with, but Autistic people seem to struggle with a bit worse (I'm a nineteen year old with Autism, so I've got a glimpse of how regular people and Autistic people deal with these issues). Those issues are trying new things and coping with change.
First, I want to talk about trying new things. I've tried numerous different things, like activities and FOOD, my whole life. I've always seemed to struggles with trying things that are new. For example, when I was in eighth grade, I went to Camp Marengo. One stormy night, they had chicken with sausage gravy. I had to take the plate because I do not like peanut butter and jelly sandwich. I was hungry, and I had to eat. I ended up eating, and I discovered it didn't taste that bad. I've tried different foods my whole life. Some were good, most were bad. As an Autistic person, it's hard to open myself to trying new things because of the fear of failure. I've got a more recent example, and by recent, I mean the past week. I've been watching YouTube baking videos from Rosanna Pansino, KawaiiSweetWorld, and Cupcakes Cookies and Cardio. They inspired me to take up baking as a personal hobby. Before I watched their videos, I did NOT wanted anything to do with it, because if I didn't like it, I ain't making it. So, I tried it. I baked for a week. I have to say, it was actually fun. I actually enjoyed it! I just had to let go of the fear and negativity that was holding me back.
The same fear and negativity concept applies to the "c" word, change. Change is not my friend. Autistic people seem to do things every day like a routine. Some days, their routine is different than the rest of the days. They adapt in this routine that if one little thing changes, let's say last minute trips to the store, or a last minute visit to a family member's house, it screws the routine up, and the Autistic person doesn't know what to do and their mind is all over the place. It gets to a point where they freak out (again, I'm Autistic, and I've been there on a huge number of occassions) and they are confused, upset, and scared. The routine is like clockwork for them, and one little change, they get upset. This is because change is new. Autistic people are more comfortable with the old than the new. Change can be scary, but my mom had to help me step out of my comfort zone, and she had to help me embrace the changes going on around me. Change happens, you cannot stop it. But you can try to help the Autistic person you know embrace change as a good thing. Inform them on all the positives, NOT the negatives. I know, you're probably wondering why I just said that. That's because if you do tell them about the negatives before hand, that will make them feel more upset and more afraid than before. I had to embrace the change of going to college, and I'm trying to embrace the big changes in my life as I turn 20 August 10th, trying to get the book published and out by late summer, mid to late fall, my second job as an advocate for Autism, weddings, parties, more nieces and/or nephews in the future, getting NEW glasses after FIVE YEARS tomorrow. I don't adjust well to change, but as Eric Idle said: always look on the bright side of life (da da, da dum, da dum, da dum), always look on the bri...just had myself a little sing along going on there. There's always a good thing that can occur during change. Just look on the good side of things, and let that negativity and fear go. You'll be alright, I promise.
That's what I wanted to talk about today. Hope you guys enjoyed reading it.
Wednesday, July 8, 2015
Monday, June 29, 2015
Echolalia and Special Attachments?
Sorry I haven't been on here blogging lately. I've been super busy running around all last weekend. Also, I was enjoying my summer vacation, and looking for a publisher to publish Meet My Autism.
I was asked by a mother whom I've been talking to quite a bit if I have any echolalia and/or special attachments to anything. So, I'm going to start this week off with this subject.
For those who don't know, Echolalia is when an Autistic child repeats what is being said to them or what they hear. For example, a person may say; "Why don't you go over there and ask politely for a turn?" And the autistic child would say; "Okay, I'll go over there and ask politely for a turn." Things like that, or movie quotes. I do recite a few movie quotes here and there when I'm by myself, but I do NOT have echolalia. I'm more of the "Okay, mom," "Okay, dad," and simple answers type of girl. I don't repeat movie quotes unless I'm in my room all by myself. That's all part of my own world. I didn't put it in quotes because I LOVE my own world. I'm always acting out my own every day adventures, and I truly am in my own state of peace in my own world. My world is a place for comfort, peace, and fun (I just noticed I went off track. I'l make a separate blog post about my world in a few...).
As far as special attachments, up until I was 11, I was way too overly attached to the famous purple dinosaur, Barney. Yeah, I was obsessed with Barney for the first eleven years of my life. I also liked VeggieTales a lot, too. I still have an attachment for sleeping with a stuffed animal at night. Reason being is because every time I do sleep with a stuffed animal at night, it just feels so right and so comforting, I don't exactly know why, it just does. I'm also have grown quite attached to my home, which might explain why I get so easily homesick if I'm away for more than 7-8 days. My mom will say that I'm VERY attached to my iPod because I'm always on it, and I agree with her. I had this doll of Molly from The Big Comfy Couch when I was little, and I took her everywhere around my house. One day, Molly was gone, and I was so upset. That was the start of learning something very valuable; sometimes you just need to let go. As I got older, my Barney toys were donated, most of my toys are in the attic (except a few dolls AND my Care Bear collection), clothes donated (some I really was attached to), and in their place came more things that seemed more appropriate for my age. The attachments I did end up giving away was really hard to let go. One attachment that I have still to this day from when I was six is Jesus Christ in my heart and in my life. That is one attachment I'm keeping forever.
So, that's what I have to say about this topic. Hope you guys liked reading it.
I was asked by a mother whom I've been talking to quite a bit if I have any echolalia and/or special attachments to anything. So, I'm going to start this week off with this subject.
For those who don't know, Echolalia is when an Autistic child repeats what is being said to them or what they hear. For example, a person may say; "Why don't you go over there and ask politely for a turn?" And the autistic child would say; "Okay, I'll go over there and ask politely for a turn." Things like that, or movie quotes. I do recite a few movie quotes here and there when I'm by myself, but I do NOT have echolalia. I'm more of the "Okay, mom," "Okay, dad," and simple answers type of girl. I don't repeat movie quotes unless I'm in my room all by myself. That's all part of my own world. I didn't put it in quotes because I LOVE my own world. I'm always acting out my own every day adventures, and I truly am in my own state of peace in my own world. My world is a place for comfort, peace, and fun (I just noticed I went off track. I'l make a separate blog post about my world in a few...).
As far as special attachments, up until I was 11, I was way too overly attached to the famous purple dinosaur, Barney. Yeah, I was obsessed with Barney for the first eleven years of my life. I also liked VeggieTales a lot, too. I still have an attachment for sleeping with a stuffed animal at night. Reason being is because every time I do sleep with a stuffed animal at night, it just feels so right and so comforting, I don't exactly know why, it just does. I'm also have grown quite attached to my home, which might explain why I get so easily homesick if I'm away for more than 7-8 days. My mom will say that I'm VERY attached to my iPod because I'm always on it, and I agree with her. I had this doll of Molly from The Big Comfy Couch when I was little, and I took her everywhere around my house. One day, Molly was gone, and I was so upset. That was the start of learning something very valuable; sometimes you just need to let go. As I got older, my Barney toys were donated, most of my toys are in the attic (except a few dolls AND my Care Bear collection), clothes donated (some I really was attached to), and in their place came more things that seemed more appropriate for my age. The attachments I did end up giving away was really hard to let go. One attachment that I have still to this day from when I was six is Jesus Christ in my heart and in my life. That is one attachment I'm keeping forever.
So, that's what I have to say about this topic. Hope you guys liked reading it.
Sunday, June 14, 2015
Seventeen Years Since...
I've been trying to hold this post off until the date of my actual 17th Anniversary I was officially diagnosed, but I honestly don't remember the actual date. I only remember June 1998. So, I decided that today would be a perfect time to reflect back on a lot of things that happened over the past 17 years. I'm going to reflect on the memories of that hot, June day I was diagnosed, the things I've accomplished, the things I still have yet to accomplish, and where I'm going from here.
But first, let me give you a little background story that started ten months before the diagnosis.
The incident happened at my second birthday party in August 1997. You'd think that a regular two year old would be more than overjoyed about everyone singing to him/her and them making that all-important birthday wish. I wasn't. When the cake was brought out to me, I was so scared. I still have the horrific image of those two flames so close to me in my head. I crawled away as fast as I could. So, mom came in and offered me a present. In my mind, I automatically jumped to the accurate conclusion that if there were presents, there was cake, and if there was cake, there was fire. So, I threw the present away from me and that gift hit the wall. That must've been a point where my mom began to worry if something was wrong.
Here's where all the reflecting begins.
After that incident came many more. I would throw tantrums at the grocery store and my mom didn't know why. So, after ten months since that first sign, mom made the appointment for us to see a doctor to figure out what was going on. In June 1998, I still wasn't talking. I still wasn't walking. I still wasn't potty-trained. I had to be carried everywhere. We went into the office. I don't remember all the questions asked and the answers my mother gave. He told her that I had Autism. She must've been so confused and worried for my well-being and development. He explained to her that it's a developmental disability located in my brain. He went on to tell her that I would never walk and that I could never talk. She was told I would remain in diapers. He suggested that an institution (nursing home) was the best possible option for me. This is the part where I remember the most from that day. My mom stood up, looked that man straight in the eye and said this: "I don't care. She's my daughter, and I'm keeping her. I'm going to raise her and teach her. I'm keeping her and I'll do anything to help her." That was the first time out of many, many times my mother stood up for me. The doctor who helped my mom a lot said to lock me in my bedroom, and she moved to Columbus.
The key thing my family did to help me was praying. We are a family of faith and we are a Christian family, so they just prayed for me that I would get better. My mom and dad prayed for me every single night. At age three, I began to walk. In December 1999, I spoke my first words: "I love you, mommy." Around that same time, I was potty trained.
I went to normal schools, I started making friends (which ended up taking a while as I explained in my post "When I Was In School..."), I was doing average in school. It wasn't until I was in high school when I began asking questions to my mom. I felt so different and alone, that in November 2011, I developed a brief depression. Having depression was not fun, and I knew God would not wanted me living that way after all He has done for me and all He has blessed me with. After three or four months, my depression went away.
That was a time I realized that I need to set my focus more on my goals. In May 2012, I went from an IEP to Section 504, graduated high school, got accepted into college, I'm getting good grades in college (only one C of all the grades I'v gotten), and I've made The Honors List Twice, The Dean's List once, and The President's List twice.
It wasn't until January 2015 in my Child Psychology class where I was assigned to do a presentation and paper about Autism where I realized that this could be my chance to show my true colors. By the end of winter quarter, I now understood and realized why God gave me my Autism. To educate people about it and help parents by providing an insight so valuable. I decided that my second job next to Graphic Designer is Autism Advocate. I made a public Instagram profile, Twitter page, and Facebook page to connect with people. From this, I've made a friend who also has Autism and has almost the same interest as I do, as well as help provide insight to a mother for her daughter. I spoke publicly about my story and my faith for the first time on April 19, 2015. I was told throughout my life that I should write books about Autism for parents, teens, and children alike. So, I started right around February 2015, and I was completely finished in April 2015. It's called Meet My Autism. It's written by me, someone with Autism, who has used NO medical research or medical professionals at all. All information is all from my experiences and observations, and how I act. I figured that a book with only the view of someone with Autism would be so valuable. I'm still trying to find a publisher for the children's book, but I may begin writing another one over my summer break.
I've accomplished so much over the past seventeen years, but I still have plenty more left to accomplish. I'm still paranoid of bees and wasps. I still don't do the birthday cake at my birthday parties, and I go in another room if I'm at a birthday party when it's time for cake. I still get over whelmed by big crowds, loud noises, flashing lights, and I still cant fully handle a trip to the grocery store. I still have my moments where I laugh at things that aren't supposed to be funny, I have a weird sense of humor, and I have mental overloads frequently, as well as a normal meltdown sometimes. I still have a long way to go. There still so much work to do. But I'm going to spend my life with Autism trying to help people and provide a voice and advice that only an Autistic person can give. My only hope is that YOU guys can join me on this incredible journey.
Happy 17th Anniversary, Autism. Thank you for giving me the voice, creativity, and the personality that has shaped who I am. Here's to eighteen more years.
But first, let me give you a little background story that started ten months before the diagnosis.
The incident happened at my second birthday party in August 1997. You'd think that a regular two year old would be more than overjoyed about everyone singing to him/her and them making that all-important birthday wish. I wasn't. When the cake was brought out to me, I was so scared. I still have the horrific image of those two flames so close to me in my head. I crawled away as fast as I could. So, mom came in and offered me a present. In my mind, I automatically jumped to the accurate conclusion that if there were presents, there was cake, and if there was cake, there was fire. So, I threw the present away from me and that gift hit the wall. That must've been a point where my mom began to worry if something was wrong.
Here's where all the reflecting begins.
After that incident came many more. I would throw tantrums at the grocery store and my mom didn't know why. So, after ten months since that first sign, mom made the appointment for us to see a doctor to figure out what was going on. In June 1998, I still wasn't talking. I still wasn't walking. I still wasn't potty-trained. I had to be carried everywhere. We went into the office. I don't remember all the questions asked and the answers my mother gave. He told her that I had Autism. She must've been so confused and worried for my well-being and development. He explained to her that it's a developmental disability located in my brain. He went on to tell her that I would never walk and that I could never talk. She was told I would remain in diapers. He suggested that an institution (nursing home) was the best possible option for me. This is the part where I remember the most from that day. My mom stood up, looked that man straight in the eye and said this: "I don't care. She's my daughter, and I'm keeping her. I'm going to raise her and teach her. I'm keeping her and I'll do anything to help her." That was the first time out of many, many times my mother stood up for me. The doctor who helped my mom a lot said to lock me in my bedroom, and she moved to Columbus.
The key thing my family did to help me was praying. We are a family of faith and we are a Christian family, so they just prayed for me that I would get better. My mom and dad prayed for me every single night. At age three, I began to walk. In December 1999, I spoke my first words: "I love you, mommy." Around that same time, I was potty trained.
I went to normal schools, I started making friends (which ended up taking a while as I explained in my post "When I Was In School..."), I was doing average in school. It wasn't until I was in high school when I began asking questions to my mom. I felt so different and alone, that in November 2011, I developed a brief depression. Having depression was not fun, and I knew God would not wanted me living that way after all He has done for me and all He has blessed me with. After three or four months, my depression went away.
That was a time I realized that I need to set my focus more on my goals. In May 2012, I went from an IEP to Section 504, graduated high school, got accepted into college, I'm getting good grades in college (only one C of all the grades I'v gotten), and I've made The Honors List Twice, The Dean's List once, and The President's List twice.
It wasn't until January 2015 in my Child Psychology class where I was assigned to do a presentation and paper about Autism where I realized that this could be my chance to show my true colors. By the end of winter quarter, I now understood and realized why God gave me my Autism. To educate people about it and help parents by providing an insight so valuable. I decided that my second job next to Graphic Designer is Autism Advocate. I made a public Instagram profile, Twitter page, and Facebook page to connect with people. From this, I've made a friend who also has Autism and has almost the same interest as I do, as well as help provide insight to a mother for her daughter. I spoke publicly about my story and my faith for the first time on April 19, 2015. I was told throughout my life that I should write books about Autism for parents, teens, and children alike. So, I started right around February 2015, and I was completely finished in April 2015. It's called Meet My Autism. It's written by me, someone with Autism, who has used NO medical research or medical professionals at all. All information is all from my experiences and observations, and how I act. I figured that a book with only the view of someone with Autism would be so valuable. I'm still trying to find a publisher for the children's book, but I may begin writing another one over my summer break.
I've accomplished so much over the past seventeen years, but I still have plenty more left to accomplish. I'm still paranoid of bees and wasps. I still don't do the birthday cake at my birthday parties, and I go in another room if I'm at a birthday party when it's time for cake. I still get over whelmed by big crowds, loud noises, flashing lights, and I still cant fully handle a trip to the grocery store. I still have my moments where I laugh at things that aren't supposed to be funny, I have a weird sense of humor, and I have mental overloads frequently, as well as a normal meltdown sometimes. I still have a long way to go. There still so much work to do. But I'm going to spend my life with Autism trying to help people and provide a voice and advice that only an Autistic person can give. My only hope is that YOU guys can join me on this incredible journey.
Happy 17th Anniversary, Autism. Thank you for giving me the voice, creativity, and the personality that has shaped who I am. Here's to eighteen more years.
Thursday, May 28, 2015
The "S" Word...STRESS!
I thought that this post should be about my least favorite "s" word, stress. It's going to be about what happens when I have stress and what I do to lower my stress level if I get too stressed.
As a nineteen year old with Autism, I always believe that the best perspective and source of information about Autism is from the Autistic person. I thought that since I'm currently stressed out right now about something, I figured I'd talk about it.
Stress is not my friend. Stress is my enemy. When I feel stressed, I tense up ten times worse than the average person. It's even worse when I'm tired and only have 4-7 hours of sleep (that case is today, did not sleep too well last night). How I react to stress is different than how the next Autistic person may react. Some might yell. Some might cry. Some might actually get violent. However with me, I have a meltdown. I cry for a while and squeeze my fingers. If I'm not crying, I'm rocking myself back and forth (which I am currently doing as we speak). I bite my fingernails. I feel like I want to pull my own hair out. I feel tense. I don't want to be messed with. It's a horrible feeling. And all the information that is being sent to my brain all day, every day, as well as my intense senses, do NOT, I repeat, DO NOT, help one bit. Again, some people are more and/or less Autistic than I am, so everyone reacts differently.
Since I'm so sensitive and vulnerable, it's hard for me to feel 100% better in 10-15 minutes, half an hour, or an hour. It sometimes goes on to three hours, happens off and on throughout the day, sometimes it can make feel stressed and grumpy all day and all night. In my life, I did manage to discover a few tips and things I can do to lower my stress a little bit. For example, a stress ball is great. If you do not have a stress ball, I HIGHLY recommend Play-Doh. I use Play-Doh as part of my "self therapy," but I mainly use it for stress. It works great because you're able to squeeze it and it works like a stress ball. Next thing I do, I punch a pillow. I don't punch my stuffed animals or my stuffed horse, Midnight Sheffield, that's not nice and I'll hurt their feelings (I was a kid when I first said that, don't judge me). I use a pillow. I want to take out my frustrations and stressed and take it out on my poor pillow, and that helps. Listening to music helps. That's all when I'm at home.
When I'm in public, let's say at school or at the grocery store, that's a whole different story. The messages being sent intensify. The noise is too much. So much is going on. I have to take very deeps breaths if I'm stressed out. I also count to ten in my head. Sometimes, I go up to 50. No matter where I am, one thing that really does help is talking to my mom, because she knows what stress is, and she can help me feel better. Even a hug from her would make me feel a little better. My dad is a great help, too. I also color and draw when I'm stressed, and it makes me feel a bit better.
Like I said, that's all how I feel and how I cope. Calling all Autism parents: what do YOU do when your Autistic child gets stressed? Leave comments below on the blog.
Thanks for reading this, guys.
As a nineteen year old with Autism, I always believe that the best perspective and source of information about Autism is from the Autistic person. I thought that since I'm currently stressed out right now about something, I figured I'd talk about it.
Stress is not my friend. Stress is my enemy. When I feel stressed, I tense up ten times worse than the average person. It's even worse when I'm tired and only have 4-7 hours of sleep (that case is today, did not sleep too well last night). How I react to stress is different than how the next Autistic person may react. Some might yell. Some might cry. Some might actually get violent. However with me, I have a meltdown. I cry for a while and squeeze my fingers. If I'm not crying, I'm rocking myself back and forth (which I am currently doing as we speak). I bite my fingernails. I feel like I want to pull my own hair out. I feel tense. I don't want to be messed with. It's a horrible feeling. And all the information that is being sent to my brain all day, every day, as well as my intense senses, do NOT, I repeat, DO NOT, help one bit. Again, some people are more and/or less Autistic than I am, so everyone reacts differently.
Since I'm so sensitive and vulnerable, it's hard for me to feel 100% better in 10-15 minutes, half an hour, or an hour. It sometimes goes on to three hours, happens off and on throughout the day, sometimes it can make feel stressed and grumpy all day and all night. In my life, I did manage to discover a few tips and things I can do to lower my stress a little bit. For example, a stress ball is great. If you do not have a stress ball, I HIGHLY recommend Play-Doh. I use Play-Doh as part of my "self therapy," but I mainly use it for stress. It works great because you're able to squeeze it and it works like a stress ball. Next thing I do, I punch a pillow. I don't punch my stuffed animals or my stuffed horse, Midnight Sheffield, that's not nice and I'll hurt their feelings (I was a kid when I first said that, don't judge me). I use a pillow. I want to take out my frustrations and stressed and take it out on my poor pillow, and that helps. Listening to music helps. That's all when I'm at home.
When I'm in public, let's say at school or at the grocery store, that's a whole different story. The messages being sent intensify. The noise is too much. So much is going on. I have to take very deeps breaths if I'm stressed out. I also count to ten in my head. Sometimes, I go up to 50. No matter where I am, one thing that really does help is talking to my mom, because she knows what stress is, and she can help me feel better. Even a hug from her would make me feel a little better. My dad is a great help, too. I also color and draw when I'm stressed, and it makes me feel a bit better.
Like I said, that's all how I feel and how I cope. Calling all Autism parents: what do YOU do when your Autistic child gets stressed? Leave comments below on the blog.
Thanks for reading this, guys.
Sunday, May 24, 2015
When I Was In School...
First off, my allergies and mucus nightmare are GONE (THANK GOODNESS)!!!! So, I'm almost completely well. Second of all, I want to say a big congratulations to Wildwood Environmental Academy's graduating Class of 2015, more specifically, my little brother. He got his diploma last Friday, and I couldn't be more proud of him.
Alright, so I asked you guys on my Instagram page on Friday what I should write about for this blog post. I was asked to write about my experiences going and being at school, and how I was treated by peers. So, I'm doing just that. WARNING: I'm not going to sugar coat it and I'm not going to make it horrific. I'm telling it like it is. How I remember it. The 6-7 transfers I had to make. Both the good and bad will be mentioned. You have been warned.
So, in 1998, my mom got me in a preschool which deals with special needs children. I spent two years there. I remember my teacher, Miss Tammy, bless her heart for putting up with me. The reason I say this: the first year and a half, I couldn't talk! So, I couldn't tell her what was wrong or what I wanted to do. From January until about June, I was talking and potty trained, which might've made the year a bit more easier.
I loved it there. Then I started kindergarten at Old Orchard. Old Orchard is a PUBLIC school, so it wasn't a school like my preschool. My kindergarten teachers worked wonderfully with me. They became my favorite because at five, I had this Barney obsession, and they would turn on Barney VHS Tapes! The teachers were awesome, but a majority of the students, not so much. I was much more severe than where I am now, and I was constantly being pointed at, laughed at, teased, and bullied. One kid even ripped up a ghost picture I brought to class on the bus. I was coloring and drawing pictures, and almost every kid said I "scribbled scrabbled." I don't remember having one friend in kindergarten, other than the teachers, who have worked effortlessly to make sure I felt okay and safe and that I learned.
After that, I transferred for the third time to Elmhurst Elementary. I still remember the slogan: "Learn all you can, believe that you can, and be all you can." I'll never forget my teacher, Mrs. Bigham. She was so warm and loving. I, again was teased and made fun of, but this time, I had two friends who had my back, Britney and Kaitlyn (if you girls are reading this, I'm so sorry if I spelled your names wrong). First grade was when I was introduced to tutoring and OT to help me with my learning. Second grade, I transferred AGAIN for the fourth time, but this time, I stayed for second, third, and fourth grade. I went to Larchmont Elementary. My principal, Mr. Hanthorn, always made me feel like he was more like a friend than my principal, which was something I've never had before. Mr. Hanthorn, if you are reading this, I want to say that now every time I see frogs, I think about you! I also want to thank you for always making me feel welcome and for working with me for so long. I'll treasure you kindness forever.
It was there I found my love of music (Thank you, Mrs. Solether), and my love for art (Thank you, Mr. Louse [sorry if I spelled your name wrong]). My second grade teacher, Mrs. Damato, and my third grade teacher, Mrs. Gibbs, were so warm and understanding. They kept encouraging me and putting up with every tear, every meltdown, and every outburst I had. Again, I was teased by kids, most of them in higher grades than I was. They would make fun of me for watching Rolie Polie Olie, Barney, and my favorite at the time, Stanley. They also called me a baby for still believing in Santa Claus, the tooth fairy, and the Easter Bunny. A girl even tricked me by saying her phone number was 911, and I ended up calling the police. I talked to myself because I literally had no one to talk to in second grade, and they'd make fun of me for that. Third grade, I became friends with Rachel Benham. I'm proud to say we've talked to each other a couple times because of Facebook. I also became friends with Lauren, Deidra, April, and Cierra, and thanks to social media, I been able to reconnect with them.
Second and third grade were great. Fourth grade is a WHOLE other story (this is where I'm not going to sugar coat it. This is reality). The friends I had were in the other fourth grade classroom, and I was in mine. I was alone, literally. The kids in my class, who sort of accepted me, also made fun of me. I'll never forget my fourth grade teacher, but it's for a horrible reason. She was a teacher who has continuously treated me in a bad way. She's called me a fat-faced liar, she would always send notes to my mom, all were the bad notes. She's even twisted my mom's own words. My mom said that I'm having trouble, and this teacher told me my mom said I was troubled, and I know with the loving mom I was blessed with, she never said I was a troubled kid. When the school year ended, I never wanted to go back to Larchmont, for that year alone.
In fifth grade, I was enrolled to a learning academy which started by a church friend of ours. I was enrolled, but then the school didn't start up. So, Wildwood came up as an option, but we couldn't get enrolled in at the time, and it was a small school at the time. So, the nightmare of going back to Larchmont came true. The only thing I was excited about was seeing Mr. Hanthorn and my friends again. Fifth grade ended up being okay, and the teacher was wonderful. Also in fifth grade, we had a day where we all stopped and honored a woman in our social studies class. We watched Rosa Parks' funeral that day.
I wanted to stay, but I couldn't. The school system, TPS, at the time, has told my parents that after 6th grade, or middle school, my IEP, OT, and tutoring would all be taken away. Shocked didn't even justified how they felt. So, we toured Wildwood Environmental Academy, and we found out that the school works with students with IEP's and special needs. It was a perfect fit, but I didn't like it at first. After the first day, I loved it.
Then WEA had another building for middle and high school. Seventh grade almost seemed like a repeat of fourth grade with my teacher. Eighth grade got better, because of new teachers, who have all stayed when I graduated. High school was tough for me emotionally, with my grandpa passing and the bullying. Ninth grade up until eleventh grade was great. In tenth grade, the bullying and terrible things got to me, and I ended up with a seven month depression. In eleventh and twelfth grade, I was bullied, yet again. This time, it hurt worse. I understood the words, I felt the shoves, I felt the fear. Luckily, my mom worked at the elementary school, so I was able to talk to the assistant principal. I will forever be grateful and appreciative to Mrs. Brimmer for allowing me to talk to her. Mrs. Lauer, my specialist suggested I write everything down in a journal to help heal the pain. Let me tell you, that helps.
The final months of twelfth grade, I decided to leave the hurt behind and look ahead. I gained more friends those months, I had wonderful memories in those months. And guess what. In May, at my senior prom, this Autistic girl (me) was crowned 2013 PROM QUEEN!! Then, on June 1, 2013, I graduated. I proved everybody who's doubted me wrong by walking across the stage and accepted my diploma.
So, overall, from kindergarten to fifth grade, it was pretty rough. However, because of being in a charter school from sixth to twelfth grade, the rest of my school days were pretty average and okay. I loved that charter school so much, I stop by from time to time to say hello and see old friends and old teachers. School gets tough at first, but over time, it gets easier and more manageable. You just can't give up and you have to keep being strong.
So, that's the blog. Sorry if it's a tad long, but I hope that my tales of experiences in school are relatable. I honestly want you guys to chime in by commenting on the blog. Again, please keep it nice and appropriate. Thank you guys.
Alright, so I asked you guys on my Instagram page on Friday what I should write about for this blog post. I was asked to write about my experiences going and being at school, and how I was treated by peers. So, I'm doing just that. WARNING: I'm not going to sugar coat it and I'm not going to make it horrific. I'm telling it like it is. How I remember it. The 6-7 transfers I had to make. Both the good and bad will be mentioned. You have been warned.
So, in 1998, my mom got me in a preschool which deals with special needs children. I spent two years there. I remember my teacher, Miss Tammy, bless her heart for putting up with me. The reason I say this: the first year and a half, I couldn't talk! So, I couldn't tell her what was wrong or what I wanted to do. From January until about June, I was talking and potty trained, which might've made the year a bit more easier.
I loved it there. Then I started kindergarten at Old Orchard. Old Orchard is a PUBLIC school, so it wasn't a school like my preschool. My kindergarten teachers worked wonderfully with me. They became my favorite because at five, I had this Barney obsession, and they would turn on Barney VHS Tapes! The teachers were awesome, but a majority of the students, not so much. I was much more severe than where I am now, and I was constantly being pointed at, laughed at, teased, and bullied. One kid even ripped up a ghost picture I brought to class on the bus. I was coloring and drawing pictures, and almost every kid said I "scribbled scrabbled." I don't remember having one friend in kindergarten, other than the teachers, who have worked effortlessly to make sure I felt okay and safe and that I learned.
After that, I transferred for the third time to Elmhurst Elementary. I still remember the slogan: "Learn all you can, believe that you can, and be all you can." I'll never forget my teacher, Mrs. Bigham. She was so warm and loving. I, again was teased and made fun of, but this time, I had two friends who had my back, Britney and Kaitlyn (if you girls are reading this, I'm so sorry if I spelled your names wrong). First grade was when I was introduced to tutoring and OT to help me with my learning. Second grade, I transferred AGAIN for the fourth time, but this time, I stayed for second, third, and fourth grade. I went to Larchmont Elementary. My principal, Mr. Hanthorn, always made me feel like he was more like a friend than my principal, which was something I've never had before. Mr. Hanthorn, if you are reading this, I want to say that now every time I see frogs, I think about you! I also want to thank you for always making me feel welcome and for working with me for so long. I'll treasure you kindness forever.
It was there I found my love of music (Thank you, Mrs. Solether), and my love for art (Thank you, Mr. Louse [sorry if I spelled your name wrong]). My second grade teacher, Mrs. Damato, and my third grade teacher, Mrs. Gibbs, were so warm and understanding. They kept encouraging me and putting up with every tear, every meltdown, and every outburst I had. Again, I was teased by kids, most of them in higher grades than I was. They would make fun of me for watching Rolie Polie Olie, Barney, and my favorite at the time, Stanley. They also called me a baby for still believing in Santa Claus, the tooth fairy, and the Easter Bunny. A girl even tricked me by saying her phone number was 911, and I ended up calling the police. I talked to myself because I literally had no one to talk to in second grade, and they'd make fun of me for that. Third grade, I became friends with Rachel Benham. I'm proud to say we've talked to each other a couple times because of Facebook. I also became friends with Lauren, Deidra, April, and Cierra, and thanks to social media, I been able to reconnect with them.
Second and third grade were great. Fourth grade is a WHOLE other story (this is where I'm not going to sugar coat it. This is reality). The friends I had were in the other fourth grade classroom, and I was in mine. I was alone, literally. The kids in my class, who sort of accepted me, also made fun of me. I'll never forget my fourth grade teacher, but it's for a horrible reason. She was a teacher who has continuously treated me in a bad way. She's called me a fat-faced liar, she would always send notes to my mom, all were the bad notes. She's even twisted my mom's own words. My mom said that I'm having trouble, and this teacher told me my mom said I was troubled, and I know with the loving mom I was blessed with, she never said I was a troubled kid. When the school year ended, I never wanted to go back to Larchmont, for that year alone.
In fifth grade, I was enrolled to a learning academy which started by a church friend of ours. I was enrolled, but then the school didn't start up. So, Wildwood came up as an option, but we couldn't get enrolled in at the time, and it was a small school at the time. So, the nightmare of going back to Larchmont came true. The only thing I was excited about was seeing Mr. Hanthorn and my friends again. Fifth grade ended up being okay, and the teacher was wonderful. Also in fifth grade, we had a day where we all stopped and honored a woman in our social studies class. We watched Rosa Parks' funeral that day.
I wanted to stay, but I couldn't. The school system, TPS, at the time, has told my parents that after 6th grade, or middle school, my IEP, OT, and tutoring would all be taken away. Shocked didn't even justified how they felt. So, we toured Wildwood Environmental Academy, and we found out that the school works with students with IEP's and special needs. It was a perfect fit, but I didn't like it at first. After the first day, I loved it.
Then WEA had another building for middle and high school. Seventh grade almost seemed like a repeat of fourth grade with my teacher. Eighth grade got better, because of new teachers, who have all stayed when I graduated. High school was tough for me emotionally, with my grandpa passing and the bullying. Ninth grade up until eleventh grade was great. In tenth grade, the bullying and terrible things got to me, and I ended up with a seven month depression. In eleventh and twelfth grade, I was bullied, yet again. This time, it hurt worse. I understood the words, I felt the shoves, I felt the fear. Luckily, my mom worked at the elementary school, so I was able to talk to the assistant principal. I will forever be grateful and appreciative to Mrs. Brimmer for allowing me to talk to her. Mrs. Lauer, my specialist suggested I write everything down in a journal to help heal the pain. Let me tell you, that helps.
The final months of twelfth grade, I decided to leave the hurt behind and look ahead. I gained more friends those months, I had wonderful memories in those months. And guess what. In May, at my senior prom, this Autistic girl (me) was crowned 2013 PROM QUEEN!! Then, on June 1, 2013, I graduated. I proved everybody who's doubted me wrong by walking across the stage and accepted my diploma.
So, overall, from kindergarten to fifth grade, it was pretty rough. However, because of being in a charter school from sixth to twelfth grade, the rest of my school days were pretty average and okay. I loved that charter school so much, I stop by from time to time to say hello and see old friends and old teachers. School gets tough at first, but over time, it gets easier and more manageable. You just can't give up and you have to keep being strong.
So, that's the blog. Sorry if it's a tad long, but I hope that my tales of experiences in school are relatable. I honestly want you guys to chime in by commenting on the blog. Again, please keep it nice and appropriate. Thank you guys.
Thursday, May 14, 2015
My Thoughts On The Negative News Involving Autism...
Alright, guys. I know it's only two days since my last post, but I have a very good reason. I'm not the kind of Autistic person who always keeps her mouth shut about what's going on in the world. There are some opinions that I do keep to myself for personal reasons.
This is not one of those times. I'm speaking out as someone who has Autism and who has been through tough patches when out in public. I'm speaking as a voice that needs to NOW be heard.
I can't believe I'm about to say this. It's officially RANT TIME!!!
First off, for some time now, I've been hearing quite a few stories about parents neglecting their Autistic children. To those parents: WHAT IN THE WORLD IS WRONG WITH YOU???? Those children need guidance, they need teaching, they need support, they need love and understanding. You're not supposed to neglect them because they "misbehave!" You're supposed to love them, teach them, and help them understand. They're special children and need you for understanding and love. I can't even wrap my head around the whole thing, it's that upsetting to me. These stories make me feel more than grateful I have the parents I have. They love me, teach me, explain things to me, talk to me, and they try to understand me. And they'll always love and care for me, and support me, and be there for me. It's not right to neglect an Autistic child.
Second, I'm pretty sure you've all heard about this. United Airlines kicked off a family with an Autistic teenager off the flight the captain didn't feel comfortable flying with her on the plane. What? Autistic children do have meltdowns, I have meltdowns from time to time. The people I applaud in this whole thing are the mother of Juliette and the passengers of the flight, who showed support toward the family. The people I do NOT, however, are everyone at United Airlines. So, you're telling me that if one of your passengers has Autism, especially if they are nonverbal, you're going to kick them off the plane over a ? Really? It not only makes absolutely no sense, it actually makes me pretty sick. Autistic people do have meltdowns. I still have a meltdown from time to time. We had sensory issues when it comes to food. I don't understand it. I really don't. It's not fair and it's not right. This is coming from someone who DOES HAVE Autism, as well as someone who's a PICKY EATER as well. I don't understand why you kicked them off when in reality, Autistic people have their moments and meltdowns. I just don't think it was the right thing to do if other passengers, paramedics, and police officers didn't see how the child was disruptive. It all comes down to Autism education. The people who've written the negative comments I've seen, as well as the airlines, need a little bit more knowledge about Autism before jumping into this type of conclusion. Well, now I know which airline NOT to use if I do get on a plane in my life.
It all boils down to Autism education. I just think society needs to learn more about Autism before jumping into any conclusions. I'm an Autistic nineteen year old girl, and I am speaking on behalf of every single Autistic individual in the world. We are not bad people, we are not spoiled brats either. We may get spoiled every once in a while because of accommodations, but we are not spoiled all the time. We don't mean any trouble or harm. We just don't understand and we don't know how to express emotions and feelings. We aren't trying to cause trouble or create a scene. We want to be heard and understood. We want to be accepted and welcomed with open arms. I hope to see more positive Autism news stories in the future.
Ok, rant over.
This is not one of those times. I'm speaking out as someone who has Autism and who has been through tough patches when out in public. I'm speaking as a voice that needs to NOW be heard.
I can't believe I'm about to say this. It's officially RANT TIME!!!
First off, for some time now, I've been hearing quite a few stories about parents neglecting their Autistic children. To those parents: WHAT IN THE WORLD IS WRONG WITH YOU???? Those children need guidance, they need teaching, they need support, they need love and understanding. You're not supposed to neglect them because they "misbehave!" You're supposed to love them, teach them, and help them understand. They're special children and need you for understanding and love. I can't even wrap my head around the whole thing, it's that upsetting to me. These stories make me feel more than grateful I have the parents I have. They love me, teach me, explain things to me, talk to me, and they try to understand me. And they'll always love and care for me, and support me, and be there for me. It's not right to neglect an Autistic child.
Second, I'm pretty sure you've all heard about this. United Airlines kicked off a family with an Autistic teenager off the flight the captain didn't feel comfortable flying with her on the plane. What? Autistic children do have meltdowns, I have meltdowns from time to time. The people I applaud in this whole thing are the mother of Juliette and the passengers of the flight, who showed support toward the family. The people I do NOT, however, are everyone at United Airlines. So, you're telling me that if one of your passengers has Autism, especially if they are nonverbal, you're going to kick them off the plane over a ? Really? It not only makes absolutely no sense, it actually makes me pretty sick. Autistic people do have meltdowns. I still have a meltdown from time to time. We had sensory issues when it comes to food. I don't understand it. I really don't. It's not fair and it's not right. This is coming from someone who DOES HAVE Autism, as well as someone who's a PICKY EATER as well. I don't understand why you kicked them off when in reality, Autistic people have their moments and meltdowns. I just don't think it was the right thing to do if other passengers, paramedics, and police officers didn't see how the child was disruptive. It all comes down to Autism education. The people who've written the negative comments I've seen, as well as the airlines, need a little bit more knowledge about Autism before jumping into this type of conclusion. Well, now I know which airline NOT to use if I do get on a plane in my life.
It all boils down to Autism education. I just think society needs to learn more about Autism before jumping into any conclusions. I'm an Autistic nineteen year old girl, and I am speaking on behalf of every single Autistic individual in the world. We are not bad people, we are not spoiled brats either. We may get spoiled every once in a while because of accommodations, but we are not spoiled all the time. We don't mean any trouble or harm. We just don't understand and we don't know how to express emotions and feelings. We aren't trying to cause trouble or create a scene. We want to be heard and understood. We want to be accepted and welcomed with open arms. I hope to see more positive Autism news stories in the future.
Ok, rant over.
Tuesday, May 12, 2015
My Day In Detroit!!!!!
So, in my last post, Patience Is Tough, I very briefly mentioned my Detroit trip that I had this past Friday (5/8), and I didn't go too crazy into details because I wanted to share this amazing experience on a separate post. I figured since I'm on summer break, and also because I am currently allergy stricken, I'll tell you all about my trip.
We left the school at around 8:35 am, and we drove for an hour to get to the Henry Ford Museum so we can take the bus to the Ford Rouge Factory. Once we got there, some of us had to make a quick pit stop, and then we got our tickets for the factory tour. We got on the buses, and these buses kind of resemble the inside of a subway on the inside. There were metal poles lined up in the aisle of the bus, little grip ropes near the front, and there were seats that were facing the front of the bus, the left of the bus, and the right of the bus. Of course, curious, Autistic little me likes to sit in the back, and I sat in a seat facing the left. It wasn't what I was used to, but I quickly warmed up to it.
When we got to the factory, they told us the rules regarding food, drink, and photography. We first had to see two different presentations. The first was a 10-15 minute informational movie about the history of Henry Ford and the factory. Real quick: you know that expression: "save the best for last?" Well, they did with the second presentation. It was a presentation of the NEW Ford F150! It was a small scaled, white, dull looking F150 sculpture, but what happened, oh it was cool. There's this podium, and this podium has a little door. Side note: I'm being dead serious as I'm about to say this. The door opens, fog is coming out, and the F150 sculpture arises from inside the podium with fog surrounding it. As I said, I'm being totally dead serious. It happened just as I described it. It was that cool.
However, I felt a tad tense. It's not a little bit, just a tad. There were robots involved, and at first I was really worried of the robots. They make these wear noises and movements, and that freaked me out a bit, but I had to remember that these were programmed as part of the interactive presentation and that they weren't going to harm me. They had these different graphics on the little, white sculpture that were so cool! Overall, the second presentation had to be my favorite.
From there, we started our tours. The first place we visited was on the roof (not literally, it's basically the very top story of the building). The tour guide explained to us what everything outside was and where the environmental innovations were, and the view was simply extraordinary. I saw the skyline of downtown Detroit. It was really cool. Then, the factory! We weren't allowed to take pictures of the F150 making process, but I wish we were because it was so cool to see. I was worried a little bit because factories are loud, and I don't handle loud noises too well. It was actually much more quiet than I expected, but how these trucks were made was really fascinating to see. Then, we looked at the cars in the lobby and observed the new F150. If you're a Ford truck person, you'll really like it. It looks so beautiful (I'm not being sarcastic. I'm dead serious).
Then, we went back to the Museum where we ate lunch and explored until 3:30 pm. I ate at the American Dog place, and I see the famous WienerMobile. Of course, I got my picture taken with it. I was walking with my new buddy, Vernique, and we saw all of the exhibits. We checked out an exhibit where it featured different decades which was pretty cool, and we basically checked out every exhibit. They had a section featuring race cars, and it was really cool. The Driving America exhibit was the one I really wanted to see, and it was really cool. The museum featured trains, buses, planes, and mostly cars from different decades. Side note: I'm not a car person, so the fact that I'm saying that it was awesome means it is.
At 3:35, we headed to Comerica Park to see the Detroit Tigers take on the Kansas City Royals for first place. At 5:00 pm, we checked into the VIP Tiger Club where we were treated to dinner. I had three chili dogs with a Pepsi. We were given these bands that will allow us to come back during the game. After I ate, I bought souvenirs (obviously), and then I went to my seat for the big game. I've never been in a ballpark that big before, but I was too excited to even think about getting tense and getting overwhelmed. On the fifth inning, with all the yelling and all the people and all the bright lights, I began feeling a tad overwhelmed. That feeling came five seconds before it began to rain. So, some of us headed back to the Tiger Club to stay until the rain stopped. I was so incredibly thankful for that because that gave me the chance to take a breather and recharge until I didn't feel overwhelmed anymore. I think I stayed in there for about 15 minutes tops. After the rain stopped, some of us left the Tiger Club. I went back to see the game after I got out of the elevator.
It's the ninth inning, the game is tied 5-5, Detroit is up to bat. First batter hits a two base run. Second batter, everyone is now on their feet. The second batter hits another two base run, which then leads the first batter to run home and be safe, and that run picks up the victory for the Tigers! It went bananas in Comerica Park. The Tigers won the big game! My first MLB game was officially a success.
Then at 10:30pm, we boarded our rental van, and we went home. We arrived back at my school at 11:45pm and my dad picked me up, and we both went home. During the car ride, my sugar high was gone, and the pain and soreness in my feet and legs kicked in. I was walking a lot that day, and I'm STILL a bit sore. Honestly, the soreness is all worth it from the awesome day I had in Detroit.
Here are some pictures I took and sent from Vernique I wanted to share:
We left the school at around 8:35 am, and we drove for an hour to get to the Henry Ford Museum so we can take the bus to the Ford Rouge Factory. Once we got there, some of us had to make a quick pit stop, and then we got our tickets for the factory tour. We got on the buses, and these buses kind of resemble the inside of a subway on the inside. There were metal poles lined up in the aisle of the bus, little grip ropes near the front, and there were seats that were facing the front of the bus, the left of the bus, and the right of the bus. Of course, curious, Autistic little me likes to sit in the back, and I sat in a seat facing the left. It wasn't what I was used to, but I quickly warmed up to it.
When we got to the factory, they told us the rules regarding food, drink, and photography. We first had to see two different presentations. The first was a 10-15 minute informational movie about the history of Henry Ford and the factory. Real quick: you know that expression: "save the best for last?" Well, they did with the second presentation. It was a presentation of the NEW Ford F150! It was a small scaled, white, dull looking F150 sculpture, but what happened, oh it was cool. There's this podium, and this podium has a little door. Side note: I'm being dead serious as I'm about to say this. The door opens, fog is coming out, and the F150 sculpture arises from inside the podium with fog surrounding it. As I said, I'm being totally dead serious. It happened just as I described it. It was that cool.
However, I felt a tad tense. It's not a little bit, just a tad. There were robots involved, and at first I was really worried of the robots. They make these wear noises and movements, and that freaked me out a bit, but I had to remember that these were programmed as part of the interactive presentation and that they weren't going to harm me. They had these different graphics on the little, white sculpture that were so cool! Overall, the second presentation had to be my favorite.
From there, we started our tours. The first place we visited was on the roof (not literally, it's basically the very top story of the building). The tour guide explained to us what everything outside was and where the environmental innovations were, and the view was simply extraordinary. I saw the skyline of downtown Detroit. It was really cool. Then, the factory! We weren't allowed to take pictures of the F150 making process, but I wish we were because it was so cool to see. I was worried a little bit because factories are loud, and I don't handle loud noises too well. It was actually much more quiet than I expected, but how these trucks were made was really fascinating to see. Then, we looked at the cars in the lobby and observed the new F150. If you're a Ford truck person, you'll really like it. It looks so beautiful (I'm not being sarcastic. I'm dead serious).
Then, we went back to the Museum where we ate lunch and explored until 3:30 pm. I ate at the American Dog place, and I see the famous WienerMobile. Of course, I got my picture taken with it. I was walking with my new buddy, Vernique, and we saw all of the exhibits. We checked out an exhibit where it featured different decades which was pretty cool, and we basically checked out every exhibit. They had a section featuring race cars, and it was really cool. The Driving America exhibit was the one I really wanted to see, and it was really cool. The museum featured trains, buses, planes, and mostly cars from different decades. Side note: I'm not a car person, so the fact that I'm saying that it was awesome means it is.
At 3:35, we headed to Comerica Park to see the Detroit Tigers take on the Kansas City Royals for first place. At 5:00 pm, we checked into the VIP Tiger Club where we were treated to dinner. I had three chili dogs with a Pepsi. We were given these bands that will allow us to come back during the game. After I ate, I bought souvenirs (obviously), and then I went to my seat for the big game. I've never been in a ballpark that big before, but I was too excited to even think about getting tense and getting overwhelmed. On the fifth inning, with all the yelling and all the people and all the bright lights, I began feeling a tad overwhelmed. That feeling came five seconds before it began to rain. So, some of us headed back to the Tiger Club to stay until the rain stopped. I was so incredibly thankful for that because that gave me the chance to take a breather and recharge until I didn't feel overwhelmed anymore. I think I stayed in there for about 15 minutes tops. After the rain stopped, some of us left the Tiger Club. I went back to see the game after I got out of the elevator.
It's the ninth inning, the game is tied 5-5, Detroit is up to bat. First batter hits a two base run. Second batter, everyone is now on their feet. The second batter hits another two base run, which then leads the first batter to run home and be safe, and that run picks up the victory for the Tigers! It went bananas in Comerica Park. The Tigers won the big game! My first MLB game was officially a success.
Then at 10:30pm, we boarded our rental van, and we went home. We arrived back at my school at 11:45pm and my dad picked me up, and we both went home. During the car ride, my sugar high was gone, and the pain and soreness in my feet and legs kicked in. I was walking a lot that day, and I'm STILL a bit sore. Honestly, the soreness is all worth it from the awesome day I had in Detroit.
Here are some pictures I took and sent from Vernique I wanted to share:
The Automotive Hall of Fame
The view of the Detroit skyline I was talking about.
Here's my picture with the WienerMobile. Yes, I was a bit starstruck.
The ACTUAL bus Rosa Parks sat in!
Me at the Driving America exhibit! It was so cool!
My two tickets, and sadly the last pic I took before my phone died on me.
Vernique sent me this pic of me at the game. Yes, that is a Silly Straw, and yes, I did buy it, and YES, I did use it at the game. It's the coolest straw I've ever used and owned.
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