Normal People Scare Me: A Blog About Autism

REVERENTLY IRREVERENT BIRDS

Lyrics to Mary Poppins’ “Feed the Birds” with a reverently irreverent metaphor to autism and our world’s life with autism.

My comments/analogies are included after each line(s).

INTRO: Sometimes a person we love through no fault of his own can’t see past the end of his nose…

FEED THE BIRDS

Early each day, to the steps of St. Paul’s, the little old bird woman comes.

This is me; this is you. Though we are young, middle aged and old “bird women and men.” Each day we say “I cannot die yet. My child needs me” So we walk up the steps as we must.

In her own special way, to the people she calls: “Come buy my bags full of crumbs…

Can someone; my child’s teacher, aide, administrator, coordinator, service provider, insurance company, day staff, family, community, country, government, world – help me to help my child? Please buy my bags of crumbs. Though my crumbs are not the norm, they are of your world and mine even if it is not what we chose. I resonate that my child is, perhaps a burden on society; it’s pockets, it’s priorities, it’s chaos. But what will become of society if my child multiplied by millions becomes YOUR future society with no supports? I fear you will walk away and say it is solely my fault. Perhaps… Perhaps not…

Come feed the little birds, show them you care, And you’ll be glad if you do.

Pay it forward. Every twenty minutes, a child is diagnosed with autism. My child has been in your child’s class, his extra curricular activities (if you let him), his church, his temple, his workplace. My child has needs beyond what I expected to take on in this lifetime; certainly more than you can accept. I am your neighbor, your daughter or son, your cousin, your co-worker, your friend, acquaintance. I am the woman you read about in the papers and see on prime time TV. Perhaps I am you. I am everywhere – yet, maybe you don’t yet know me because you were graced with a typical child. Please take a moment to get to know my child. You will find he is magical, and has the essence of the pure love that you and I dream of.

The young ones are hungry, their nests are so bare, All it takes is tuppence from you. Feed the birds, tuppence a bag Tuppence, tuppence, tuppence a bag.

Tuppence: A two cent piece; the coins you leave at the cash register in the small tray on the counter; a donation to autism awareness. My child’s nest is often bare unless others fill it. Every day I do the best I can. My son is 20 and today I “lost it.” Today we were “hungry” We were both weary. Life with autism is so hard. My man-boy cannot do for himself what is necessary to find his way alone in the world at this time and place. If you give a tuppence – not to him – but to the cause for others – our world might just be changed forever because of you. What would it be like if YOU were the one who made that happen? If YOU payed it forward, and told two friends. Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

“Feed the birds,” that’s what she cries, While overhead her birds fill the skies.

Our children are not of this world per se and yet they are more of this world than you and I might ever be… While they breathe the oxygen in the air as you do, they do not see the birds that fill the skies in the way you do. Our differences are what make us extraordinary. Their differences are what make them “special.” Please stop to look and see the extraordinary face and mind of my child as he fills the sky. He is weird, bizzaar, strange… How wonderful for him.

All around the cathedral, the saints and apostles Look down as she sells her wares. Although you can’t see it, you know they are smiling each time someone shows that he cares.

You were made for something great and I have no doubt that you follow your own path righteously and with intention. Will you stop, however, to look down as I (we) sell our wares? We are selling autism – for we fear – in this fast paced, fast food world because we cannot do it alone. We need YOU. We know that you do truly care – even if you do not yet know it yourself.

Though her words are simple and few, Listen, Listen, she’s calling to you. Feed the birds, tuppence a bag, Tuppence, tuppence, tuppence a bag.

Well, okay, maybe our words are not so simple – but the truth is always simple. Truth is what it is. We are separate to the extent we divide. We are together to the extent we unite. Imagine if we all came together and ego was no more. Might we end war? Might we take care of one another? Might our children be a contribution to our futures and not a burden?

Until that day comes, I encourage you to take a stand to unite and become as one. On average one in ten individuals have a disability. Every twenty minutes a child is diagnosed with autism. Might it tomorrow be your child, your grandchild, will you then hear our call to feed the birds?

And there but the grace of GOD, walk I.

In peace and blessings I say, FEED THE BIRDS

If I don’t laugh, I’ll cry. My son, Taylor is now 20 years old. We’ve lived with autism everyday for approximately 7,548 days or 181,152 hours as of this writing. There have been times when I thought I could not handle another moment of the insanity that the baffling disorder of autism creates in my life. BTW, I use the word “insanity” as slang and not as literal, lest I enrage someone with my political non-correctness.

Other days – most days – I experience my blessings, the beauty of my son’s innocence and greatness, and more ofeten than not, I thank God for the road I’ve been “given” to travel with this rare being.

You know, the early years were hard as heck. Not a lot out there in the dark ages of autism, way back before the DSMIV was rewritten to include so-called “high functioning autism”. In fact the best of the worst advice I got was that I was a refrigerator mother (lack of emotional support for my son) and that I had caused his emotional distress because of my lack of parenting skills. Now that was a hard pill to swallow, but don’t think for a moment it did not inspire me to “show them”. May I call them uninformed? Or just simply say their IQs did not match up with excellent EQs? Still, they motivated me to be more, do more, and learn to live in gratitude and exploration of our lives with special needs.

Some of you know my work in film. NORMAL PEOPLE SCARE ME; THE SANDWICH KID; and ARTS. For over 11 years now, I stand (sometimes with Taylor and my son Jace) on stages around the world and share my (our) experiences, strength and passion for the field I love – disabilities and what I call: “what the heck now?”

In my work, I provide strategies and free and low cost “power tools” to participants in seminars and workshops, to literally alter and transform lives. But I’ve got to say, every athlete needs a coach, and this athlete is no exception! I am currently reaching out to those who can help me. We cannot do it alone – though my past tells me this is safer which is actually a flaw I am working on. That is: asking for help.

Ultimately, I am no better than anybody, and certainly no worse. I am just a mom doing everything I can to make this life something I will be proud of as one day I say my goodbyes – yet perhaps leave a legacy of something greater than my ego, and my own “story.” I hope so.

But it aint easy!

With 20 years behind me to try and figure out this thing called autism/disabilities (in general), and with all I know and have created (some really good stuff there) I’ve got to tell you, my “high functioning” son at 20, appears to me to be more on the spectrum now than when he was, say 16 or even 18. The adult world is tough and all the rules change. There is no IEP to protect everyday education, and frankly, colleges (overall) in this country don’t give a shit about your kids differences. They are simply on their own.

There are not a lot of resources out there once our kids hit the age of majority. And their time-delayed emotional content is often like dealing with a 14 year old even though as an adult they can tell you to take a hike if you don’t have a conservatorship. It’s a daily juggle to honor their adulthood, yet to help them be an adult when they cannot segue society on their own (yet). A high wire act, actually.

I think of Lois Lane and Superman when Superman says “Don’t worry, I’ve got you.” and Lois cries out in fear “Yes, but whose got YOU?”

I love my son. I love my work. I love all of the people who have come into my life – as we are all in this together, but somedays, I just need a coach to be there for ME!

I am off to a number of speaking engagements this Fall. I am glad for the privilege of sharing with others. All I need to remember are the words my son said to me a couple of years ago:

“Mom, if you’re not vulnerable, your audience can’t hear you.”

So I’ll take his advice and just be me; the reverent and irreverent Keri, who knows enough to be dangerous and hopefully revolutionarily efficient in changing a small place in this world for those with differences.