Some Thoughts About The Various Ways of Being Excluded

Filed Under (Advocacy, Autism and The Media, Celebrity Advocacy, Communication, Contributions to Society, Critical Disability Studies, Discrimination, Inclusion, Parenting, Politics, Research) by Estee on 10-07-2012

I have a comment on comments, either in comment boxes or full blog posts about other writers and bloggers. Usually I won’t write about it, but I decided to write in my own defence. In so doing, I’ve had other thoughts about the various ways of being excluded, as either autistic people, or as autistic allies.

Recently, I did a self-search on Google. I am sad to say that I get used to disrespetful commenters who seem to create a narrative about me that is unfamiliar to me. I am also delighted, however, by comments that build upon a constructive dialogue about autism and disabiltiy and how we can remove the barriers for autistic individuals. I happen-stanced upon a post from 2008 about my blog — that mostly I “get it right,” but advocate for doing “nothing” for the autistic person.

If you’ve been reading my blog since 2005 I’ve done nothing but critically evaluate everything that Adam and I have come across in terms of therapy, education, autistic/social value, and opportunities, and the lack thereof. While the nature of blogs has changed since 2005, many of which have become syndicated journalism, I’ve kept mine in journal-mode, writing about my own growth and development as an autism parent to my beloved Adam.

Adam has been in “therapy” since he’s been 20 months of age and I have reams of notes and binders I have taken to create his programs, track his progress, develop his plans. I have created his programs along with other professionals that use ABA, RDI, Floortime and other methods. I have a decade of experience of autism education and various therapies, many of them dubious. I’ve witnessed improvements in the field where I continue to have a watchful eye. I predicted that we would be forced into an ABA program, and here we are, in an segregated school for autistic children. Not that it’s a “bad” thing. I am actually grateful not to be in a system that completely disregards him, but is set up more for him. Adam, for now, is happy there and he is learning, but it’s a fact that it’s still exclusion which we mitigate with other inclusive programs.

ABA is something that we’ve had to contribute to improve upon because it’s really hard to change the system. To me it is in part a method and in part a label for a type of education that in some schools, uses other methods in addition to it. Adam and I have to “fit” into a mold and make it the best for him — those are our barriers and limitations for now. We work to fill in the gaps ourselves. I learned and taught Adam how to type…by myself — by reading, studying and consulting others who have other expertise to add. Now his school builds upon what I started. Recently, I was asked to write a book about it, and may do so after this year of finishing my M.A. in Critical Disability Studies. I have now five years of typed dialogues between Adam and myself, methods and back story of how it all began. He would never had had this opportunity had I not taken his education and communication upon myself, and I’m not shy to admit it because I hope it will become more mainstream. I am not alone in this among many autism parents. We make our own roads and other parents will share the work they’ve done.

We still work towards Inclusion, but when I made a recent query within the public system, as predicted, it ended up that Adam would be put in the “lowest functioning class” (their term, not mine). His cognition and “capacity” was determined by his limited verbal ability and results on standardized tests (which we know do not befit the autistic person as much as a dyslexic person cannot read typical text). How many students in these classes, no matter what their label, are not getting the education they deserve? Whose to decide on someone’s functioning level and “capacity” when we give unsuitable tests? Who has the right to decide who is normal and abnormal and how do semantics and labels effect people’s lives? Finally, if we decide to write off a “class” of people from the get-go, where do we end up? We are all effected, autistic or not. How we treat our collective members of society is a reflection of how we think about ourselves.

It seems there is a group of people who don’t understand (or want to set others astray) on the meaning of neurodiversity, which basically acknowledges that different people have different neurologies that make them learn and interact in the world in various ways. Myths are spun because it is assumed that if we “embrace” autistic people (some of us have been labeled “Neurodiversity Advocates” in a negative context) it will not serve their politics. I suppose, in the system we currently have which are so exclusive and politically limiting to us, we can understand the method, but I think it’s ultimately detrimental. An exclusive, “tragic” and medical approach to disability limits community membership and opportunity. Until recently, as autism parents, we have had to feed into the “autism tragedy” model in the belief that this is the only way to garner financial support and services. Despite inroads against the medical and disability-is-tragic models, there are many new parenting studies which seem intent on proving that autism causes families to break apart, which to-date, cannot be proven. This is another way of excluding autistic people and their families — by seeking something to blame, researching etiology and causation instead of spending money on understanding autistic individuals and bettering their quality of life.

If we accept and believe in our children and don’t get tragically depressed, we are written off (as I have been on numerous ocassions) as being in denial. I have been labled a neglectful parent, and a “mental case,” (a revelation of the prejudiced inclination of the autism “advocate” who stated that about me).”Those who stray from the this prescribed script [the tragic or depression 5-staged model from grief to acceptance] — for example, by not being as depressed as predicted — run the risk of being regarded as in a state of denial and in need of further psychological guidance and counselling (Oliver, 1995; Reeve, 2000; S. Wilson, 2003).” I think life is all about struggle and we have to work with it. Nevertheless, when we write publically, we leave ourselves open to criticism of all kinds. I embrace that too, but I will also take it on.

It has been challenging to write this blog for the past few years. I’m not allowed, according to some autism parents, to take joy in my son for who he is as an autistic person. My own ups and downs are disregarded if I do not publically lament in the same fashion as everyone else. I opted not to do this because I always kept my son and his community in mind. If I were an autistic person, I thought, how might I wish to be regarded? I don’t criticize others for their depression because each one of us has to take our own unique journey. I simply believe that I, personally, have to exercise a discipline in my thoughts and feelings, which is not to say I don’t have the same kind as everyone else. I have imposed this upon myself. I have always kept Adam in mind when writing publically because I believe one day he may read this. I also wish to embrace and listen to the autistic community (that is, autistic people). It’s unfortunate when others feel they have to “spin” for political reasons or their own benefit.

The other political debates and controversies lie in semantics and definitions. Words are important as they reflect our thoughts about the way in which we see ourselves. We work against traditional systems that have to-date, been oppressive and exclusive agianst the disabled. Paul Hunt first challenged what we call today ‘abelism’ (a society that favours the able-bodied), in his 1966 book, Stigma: The Experience Of Disability. He said, “We are challenging society to take account of us, to listen to what we have to say, to acknowledge us as an integral part of society itself. We do not want ourselves, or anyone else, treated as second-class citizens, and put away out of sight and mind.” (p. 158).

The Union of the Physically Impaired Against Segregation (UPIAS) was formed in 1974. They re-defined the distinction between “impairment’ and “disability” as part of their mandate to “criticize organizations control-led by non-disabled ‘experts’ for their failure to address the social barriers central to disabled people’s exclusion from mainstream economic and social activity and their lack of accountability to the disabled community.” (p.29)

impairment: lacking part of all of a limb, or having a defective limb, organisim or mechanism of the body;

disability: the disadvantage or restriction of activity caused by a contemporary social organization which takes no or little account of people who have physical impairments and thus excludes them from participation in the mainstream of social activities. (UPIAS 1976z, p. 14).

This social model approach breaks the traditional causal link between impairment and disability. The ‘reality’ of impairment is not denied, but it is not necessarily a sufficient condition of disability.(p. 30).

Writing about autism as a joy, my absolute love of my son for who he is, my personal struggles without pandering to the pressure to lament in typical ways while embracing other’s need to make their own unique autism journey, is about inclusion of everyone. It begins with the fundamental acceptance and belief, however, that all autistic individuals are worthy and valuable members of our collective. It’s a necessary premise.

The social model is not about showing that every dysfunction in our bodies can be compensated for by a gadget, or good design, so that everybody can work an 8-hour day and play badminton in the evenings. It’s a way of demonstrating that everyone — even someone who has no movement, no sensory function and who is going to die tomorrow — has the right to a certain standard of living and be treated with respect. (Vasey, 1992a, p.44)


Barnes, Colin, Mercer, Geof and Shakespeare, Tom. “Analysing Disability” in Exploring Disability: A Sociological Introduction, pp. 1-42. 1999 Polity Press.

Somewhere in between: the truth and fiction behind autism and divorce rates

Filed Under (Acceptance, Celebrity Advocacy, Family, Single Parenthood) by Estee on 04-01-2010

I feel manipulated. Not by a person, but by the many messages I am getting about autism and high divorce rates. Imagine me now looking through new eyes. Adam’s dad and I have been separated for little over a year now. Last night on TVO aired Autism The Musical and the BBC production of The Autism Puzzle (the latter which I found to be a good documentary…it is the second time I’ve watched it) and today on CNN (again) I am confronted with a deluge of autism media and I am sitting in my bed, alone, weeping, laughing at myself — weeping again. I might look to an outsider like Meg Ryan in some Hollywood romantic comedy. It’s not that I didn’t appreciate Autism The Musical. It’s just that I have to think critically of how a general public might view some of the very real comments — so real they made me weep. Take a look at this story before continuing to read:

Lisa Jo Rudy of on all things autism (an autism mom herself) also recollects about Adam’s dad (from the movie — not my Adam):“Adam’s dad, now estranged from his mom, is bitter because of his wife’s obsession with Adam’s autism. Mom, meanwhile, spins out of control when she thinks her son’s cello solo will be cut from the final musical production.”Adam’s dad (in the film) suggests that he believes all autism moms suffer divorce because they are scrounging every ounce of information for the benefit of the child. Adam’s mom and dad are still together during the filming and the mom discusses how dad has had a long-standing affair, and she is clearly overstressed and bitter and I understand all of that.

As I’ve said, I’m looking through different eyes now. Yes, Adam didn’t sleep and I was so grossly sleep deprived. Yes, I was obsessed with finding out every ounce of information in a world that doesn’t accept autism. As a mother who loves their child (or a father — think Robert Hughes, Ralph Savarese among hundreds of other incredibly dedicated dads), this was the obvious choice. As an educated person, I read and study…and go back to university to get a degree in Critical Disability Studies. It is my way of dealing with things. I have a need to help Adam in this world that still does not offer enough programs, services, care, respect and inclusion. And I’m choosing to accept the choice with open arms. I’m choosing to move forward and continue learning from all the lessons on this autism journey.

Truth about divorce lies somewhere between anecdote and statistics. While I have compassion and I feel that this is so real for so many families, I have to question if we are all being manipulated. I am thinking of Jenny McCarthy and her story of feeling alone in her marriage with her autistic child. I think many parents feel alone when they are researching and searching for scarce programs — indeed there is a feeling of isolation that sometimes even extended family members will never understand. I remember the Autism Everyday Video and how the number “eighty percent of all autism marriages end in divorce” was thrown out as a matter of fact, rather than what it is — speculation. I spoke out about the “wanting to drive off the George Washington bridge” with the autistic child comment because it was used in a campaign to raise money for autism by making autism look terrible, not because I don’t believe or do not have compassion for the moments when some parent may be in a moment of despair. It’s all real, you see. The divorce is real too. Some partners do not want to deal with the responsibilities of raising children — particularly disabled children. Some partners do not leave just because of autism. The problem with using these stories in autism promotion videos is that it is used to sway our feelings about autistic people in particular. It uses autistic people as a crutch for the gamut of natural human emotion. People with non-disabled children also get divorced. People with non-disabled children also do unspeakable acts to their children. It is simply not fair to blame autism or disability as the cause for despair and divorce.

There may be some truth to divorce and disability, but statistics don’t necessarily agree. Apparently divorce rates, according to Kristina Chew’s article, are down and I’m particularly concerned when disability is used as the sole reason for a divorce. Kristina also writes: “Citing autism as the reason for a marriage failing can be seen as yet another reason for saying why autism is so awful. Taking care of Charlie is a privilege but it is not always easy. Childcare arrangements are a constant juggling act for Jim and me and we tend always to think of Charlie’s needs first, and of each other’s after that. We both agree that it should be this way. Jim and I would much prefer living closer to New York City due to our jobs but Charlie’s education comes first. We left the house that we planned to live in for 30 years in order that Charlie could have the right school placement. (And until this September we were living with my in-laws, which was very, if not too, interesting at times.) Jim and I have made many of our choices based on ‘what Charlie needs’ rather than on what would be best for the two of us and I do hope that, ultimately this will be best for the three of us.”

It doesn’t matter what stressors are involved in marriage — the more there are, the more vulnerable a marriage becomes. Some couples manage to work together, some do not. Sometimes, when the marriage is done and some of the stressors are gone, parents become better at working together. Sometimes challenges bring couples closer together. There is no magic formula and there are no right or wrong answers. Is raising a child with a disability more challenging? Absolutely. Should it be blamed for divorce? No.

What we need along with the compassion is to look at our sorry weeping selves in the mirror to ask analytical questions. Who is producing the video? Is it a real story or is a fundraising video? What is it asking us to believe? Does it pull on our heart-strings to sell copies? Telling truth means that the conclusions are not necessarily clear — at least not for public consumption. I for one, will not blame autism or Adam for my marital situation, even when day-to-day life is not always easy. In her article Genie In A Bottle, Shelley Hendrix in HuffPo discusses divorce, emotion and her autistic son: “For a very simple reason over the last six years, I have clung to the hope that my son Liam was insulated from the emotional distress that can envelope a child when their parents divorce. He has autism.

For once, I had hoped that his exceptionality was a perk, protecting his innocence and preserving his heart. I was wrong. Very, very wrong. With his nonverbal days behind him and his growing conversational skills he can express himself, just like any other child that experiences divorce.

His message this summer? He desperately misses the unified family that he once had. His questions and comments mirror the conversations I have had with his younger sister throughout the years. Is it his fault? Why can’t we get back together? Why did you get a divorce? Did you love daddy? Did he love you?.”

I worry like any other parent during a time of divorce. I too want to protect Adam, as all children of divorce seem to do, from blaming himself. I am particularly aware of how he manifests anxiety and worry that it’s because of divorce — and as autistic children are not unaffected, I must assume that there are days when his head wonders what the heck has happened. One day, like Liam, he may be able to tell me so, and I don’t think anyone should underestimate the effects of divorce on the autistic child just because that child seems happy all the time, or cannot talk, or does not appear to be aware of what’s going on.

Two adults are responsible for making it (or not) and society is also responsible for supporting marriage and families — particularly families who have more on their plates because of the lack of community supports. (And uh hum — who is going to want to provide supports when people — as the woman interviewed – discuss autism as worse than getting a root canal?!) Two divorced adults are also responsible for making transitions in life for the autistic child as smooth as possible, while respecting the child’s need to express their concerns which are manifested by anxiety (and we know as autism parents that anxiety doesn’t always look anxious, but also hyper). Adults are responsible for taking the responsibility. There is no easy answer for our lives in marriage or divorce; no predictions.

The work I must do for Adam still sits in front of me. The assistance he may require in his adult years is likely. I look at it this way: when a marriage ends there are new opportunities — to build strength and hopefully cooperation. Right now, as I myself am going through this new transition I have yet another opportunity to look at pity in the eye and step forward proudly with my autistic child.

Of course I would not be human if I did not wonder if more support, programs and information would have lessened the time I spent assisting Adam, coordinating his teams, his school requirements, his IEP, his communication devices and needs, playgroups… Would I have done things differently if there was more support out there? If I had had more sleep? This is a question I cannot yet answer. All I can say for now is that it was a choice grown from love and devotion. Choices have consequences and rewards. I don’t blame autism. I don’t blame a person. It’s what was meant to happen. The work we do today, I believe, may help others tomorrow. Adam, for one, will know that he is valued and that I valued the time I was married to his father. I value the lessons we continue to learn and the many joys and struggles on our journey.

I started the Joy of Autism blog in 2005 with the support of my then-husband who told me to “start a blog” not unlike Julia’s husband in Julia and Julia. He apparently believed that, like Julia, I “have thoughts.” :) He supported the work I did for The Autism Acceptance Project. But life, as they say, is “complicated.” Here we are. Who would believe that I think that even all of this is a gift?

I do. Now, on with the future.

Rethinking Autism…dot com

Filed Under (Acceptance, Activism, autism, Autistic Self Advocacy, Celebrity Advocacy, Websites) by Estee on 21-12-2009 is a site that has taken The Autism Acceptance Project goals to a new level. “One video at a time,” they seek to use the same tools that media use in shifting and reframing the dialogue about autism:

“It’s a fine balance.”

Filed Under (Activism, Celebrity Advocacy) by Estee on 30-09-2009

Recently, John Travolta admitted his recently deceased son Jett was autistic:

Travolta recounted in last week’s testimony how he tried to revive Jett, 16, who had fallen after a seizure in a family vacation home on Grand Bahama island.

The actor also publicly acknowledged — for what is believed to be the first time — that Jett had autism. News of the testimony sparked an ambivalent reaction from the autism community.

“I ran downstairs with my wife to help my son,” Travolta said Sept. 24, according to The Associated Press. In his testimony, he said he and his wife Kelly Preston were awakened by a nanny around 10:15 a.m. Jan. 2, 2009, the day of Jett’s death. Travolta said when he went downstairs, another caretaker was doing chest compressions and he began administering breathing help.

The actor testified that his son Jett was autistic and suffered seizures every five to 10 days. He said the seizures would last 45 seconds to a minute and Jett typically slept for 12 hours after each one. “He was autistic. He suffered from a seizure disorder,” Travolta told the jury when asked about his son’s condition.

Looking at pictures of Mr. Travolta, I feel for the family deeply. Perhaps because of my own recent strain of going through divorce and watching Adam go along with us, maybe it has sparked some deeply painful feelings for me. Thinking of Adam’s future, as we must do when we go through a divorce even more so than ever, and we have to consider all the possibilities of epilepsy as well.

Going through all of this and reading stories about the Travolta family (I could not imagine having to go through this in the public eye) I have compassion for them and all the families who are not in the public eye — ABA, RDI, I really don’t care.

I care about the rights of our children. I care about not denigrating them by saying they are “less than” or “a fate worse than cancer,” because political exaggerated political sound-bites (even if there is an snippet of truth about the struggle) does not benefit anyone or any cause. We all must deal with the daily care, the worries, the strain on the family as well as on autistic people as a community. And I still believe that society does not yet have a healthy view of disability or autism and that needs real work and evolution. But I have compassion. I have compassion for those parents who are in depression because of autism. I used to be a more vocal activist (that may not change but may change it’s form), but the school of hard knocks has made me realize that my way of coping with Adam and non acceptance (of me as well as of Adam), was with activism. As I’ve reflected over the past year, activism for many people (like me) is a way of coping with crisis that might otherwise have sent me into a place where I might not have been able to function. My nature was also a part of activism — I was not about to give up on a child that, despite some hardships, is still pure joy to me. Some activism is harsh and negative, on both sides of the political spectrum. It leaves us with less energy rather than more. In real life, when we have a strong opinion, we will be met with opponents. There is a healthy way to debate and an unhealthy one. There are rules of engagement as there are in war, when the going gets really tough. Using children for the sake of angling is not okay. I prefer to read the blogs and writings of parent and autism activists who can see both sides of the experience.

I say this with the recent report on the Travolta family because I want to support what they have gone through and know the kind of love they must have had for Jett and the pain of the loss of him, in the midst of what I imagine to be an oncoming political agenda to use the family in a most difficult time, rather than a simple compassion (not pity) for them. I just do not think the time is right.

Joy Behar and others on The View talked about why John Travolta did not come out earlier about his son’s autism. About a couple of years ago, I too came out rather harshly on Mr. Travolta in my older Joy of Autism blog for not “coming out.” But Joy, I think said it right. It’s up to the family. It would be my hope (and is obviously my decision as Adam’s mother) that more parents will understand that to advocate for inclusion and acceptance means we have to “come out.” But Joy is also right by noting that the labeling aspect can limit our children to meaningless sound-bites, where popular representations and culture whittle down our children’s individuality and abilities as well as real challenges.

As far as Adam and I are concerned, we walk the fine line everyday. As his mother, it is my job and choice to advocate for him to attend any program that I believe he would enjoy, excel, or where he has a right to be with his community and to learn. He is different and it is not appropriate for people to put the onus on Adam to “be like” other children. Rather, the onus is on us to quiet our expectations, and live with everything Adam can do and offer and to pick up quietly and patiently on what he can do in order to nurture him.

So “its a fine balance,” as Joy said, between revealing and not revealing. But I’ve laid my bets on revealing for the sake of a better, more accepting world. And as I learn about autism acceptance more everyday, I also am beginning to learn how to accept myself, my evolution as an autism mom, a person with strengths and limitations, and an autism activist. More on that later.


About Me


I’m a PhD candidate at York University, Critical Disability Studies, with a multi-disciplinary background in the arts as a curator and writer. I am the Founder of The Autism Acceptance Project (, and an enamoured mother of my only son who lives with the autism label. I like to write about our journey, critical issues regarding autism in the area of human rights, law, and social justice, as well as reflexive practices in (auto)ethnographic writing about autism.