The Autistic Me

The following is the latest in a sudden "bubble" of stories about autism and access to spaces: churches, schools, and now airplanes. I have kept only the major sections of the story and suggest reading the ABC report. http://abcnews.go.com/GMA/story?id=5238571&page=1 Autistic Boy and Mom Kicked Off Plane Mother Says Flight Crew Should Have Been More Understanding By STEPHANIE DAHLE and JONANN BRADY June 25, 2008 —  There were no weapons on board or concerns about terrorism, but an American Eagle flight about to take off from the Raleigh-Durham, N.C., airport was turned back to its gate on Monday to remove two passengers.  The culprits? An upset, autistic toddler and his mother.  By all accounts, two-year-old Jarret Farrell wasn't a happy traveler. But his mother, Janice Farrell, who said she tried everything to calm her son, believes there was no reason for the airline to kick them off the plane. Okay, so far the headline and the story make a clear case for n

The first weekend of June we headed for the Como Zoo and Conservatory, in St. Paul. We went to see butterflies and flowers, which we did. But it isn't images of butterflies I keep seeing at night. Instead, it is a person I keep seeing. She was thin, much too thin... Her face was older than her age, Thin blond hair, straight and shoulder length Shorts and tank-top, basic denim and pastels Painted nails, feet and hands a midnight blue And scars. On her right arm, patterns and shapes, On her left arm, lines of various widths Scars. They burned into my eyes, Like looking into bright lights everywhere I looked I saw her scars I wanted to talk to her, to ask her questions Is it feeling too much or feeling too little That makes us want pain? She was familiar, this random stranger With her scars And I keep seeing her, wondering about her She will be alright, I tell myself Perfectionism gone awry? Anger kept silent? Pain beyond words? Or simply scars...