Autism Awareness Day---the adults with autism version

 I've had this blog since Janey was three and first diagnosed.  Now she is 19---hard to believe.  That's a lot of World Autism Awareness Days under our belts.  I was thinking today how my awareness wishes for the general public have changed since she became an adult.  

First of all, there's just that---she's an adult.  There seems to be thought out there that autism is something for children.  I am not sure what people think happens to those children with autism---upon turning 18, they are suddenly no longer autistic?  They just somehow disappear?  No---they are still around, still autistic, still in need of services and help.  

I remember thinking when Janey was getting close to an adult that I wanted to be sure to keep writing about her, to help in my small way to raise awareness of autistic adults.  But as you might have noticed, I write far less than I used to.  That is tied into something else I'd like to make people aware of.  As the years go by, there is less new news.  I might be negative and say there is less hope---but that's not really it.  There is less urgency, somehow, to DO something, to FIX something.  That is an awareness that doesn't need a special day for us to arrive at.  If there is something Janey isn't doing at this point, it's unlikely she will be doing it in the future.  And that's okay.  

My father asked me something the other day that made me think.  He said "You must sometimes have some sadness and regret over things that Janey will never do".  And I realized---I don't.  I don't think a lot about what Janey won't be able to do.  What comes into my head often is the phrase "That's not her path".  It's like how I don't regret that I can't fly, or that I'm not an astronaut, or a world class figure skater.  I was never going to be or do those things.  I don't regret what was not my path, and I don't really feel regret for Janey that she's not going to do things that were never her path---live on her own, get a job, get a high school diploma, go to college.  She has her own path.  That's something I'd like to make people aware of---that everyone has their own path, their own way through life, and we don't all need to have the same milestones along the way.

Lately, much of our life is bureaucracy, the endless series of obstacles to overcome and hoops to jump through to get Janey what she needs as an adult.  THERE'S something I wish people were more aware of---how hard it is to get even the smallest amount of help for people like Janey, except for school.  For example, we are working on registering her for services when she's 22.  She is 19 now, so it might seem early to start, but believe me---it's not.  First, we had to do an endless form and send in a huge amount of paperwork to prove there was a need for her to get adult services.  Then, we got requests to send even more---more reports, more proof of her autism, more IEPs, things like that.  THEN we got assigned a worker, and we took Janey to meet her.  The next day, I did many hours worth of phone interviews about Janey's development and current level of functioning.  You might think all that would be enough.  But of course not.  The worker told us we need a letter from her psychiatrist outlining all the reasons that Janey meets the definition of autism---despite her being diagnosed as such at least 3 times in the paperwork we already sent.  We are working on getting that letter, but getting no response from her psychiatrist at all.  Once we get that letter, if we ever do, finally she is formally put in to MAYBE get services---all this is just part of the application.  Once she is approved (and I would certainly hope she will get approved, but who knows?), we get assigned ANOTHER worker and we start trying to figure out if there are actually any programs out there for her (which it is very possible there won't be, from what I hear),

My boys both went to college, and got good financial aid, and I swear that was about 10 times easier to apply for than all this is.  You could spend 5 minutes with Janey and know she needs lifelong services.  Tony and I are fairly good at paperwork, and we are about out of our minds at this point.  What in the world would someone who might not read well or speak English well do to get this kind of help for their child?  WHY is it so hard?

And this is just ONE of the tasks of adulthood.  We also had to apply for Social Security for Janey, which wasn't quite as complicated but took over a year to be approved, and we had to get guardianship for her, which was another nightmare of complexity and is something we have to repeat EVERY YEAR.    I don't think it has to be this hard.  I think there's an impression out there, and in fact people have said to me that they think people with autism "get all kinds of help and services", like you get the diagnosis and suddenly help and money and respite and programs are all provided in abundance.  I'd like people to be aware that most certainly is not the case.

However, of everything I wish people could be aware of, the biggest is this---Janey is an amazing person.  She is our joy.  She loves so many things---good food, good music, good (in her eyes anyway) videos and movies.  She has a smile that is so wonderful it's impossible to describe if you haven't seen it.  She's funny and beautiful and in her own way, very smart.  You might look at the bare facts about her---a recorded IQ of 30, very little useful speech, not fully toilet trained, unable to read or write---and picture a tragedy.  The tragedy to me is that anyone would think that.  She is everything to us, and she deserves a full and interesting life as much as anyone does.  

I wish sometimes everyone who is responsible for any kind of public policy that affects the disabled could meet Janey.  And meet all the other amazing people out there that I've met because of Janey---I wish they could see for themselves the actual people they are making decisions for.  Maybe I'm a cockeyed optimist, but I think if they could, they would do all they could to make the world a place where Janey and all the others like her could not just survive, but thrive.

A system that only rewards those able to be demanding

 I recently read a report a consulting firm wrote about an investigation they had done into a now closed school that had been part of the Boston Public School system.  None of my kids went to the school, but I read the report with interest as it was addressing larger problems within the district.  In the report, I came across this passage...  "Finally, we found that BPS’s current practice of more urgently addressing SPED issues or “crises” when they are raised by vocal parents results in an inequitable system within BPS where certain families are at a disadvantage because they may not be aware of this option and/or able to advocate for their children in the same manner."

Wow.  That hit me hard.  It brought back, vividly,  different times when I know that Janey missed out on help and services she should have gotten, because I was not one of those "vocal parents", because I didn't know how to forcefully push the district to address her needs urgently, because, as I've always seen it in my own mind, because I failed Janey with my own lack of knowledge or wimpy nature.  But reading that sentence, I was hugely struck by how unfair it is to expect parents of special needs children to both know what to advocate for and also to know how to advocate in general.  And I had a lot of advantages that many parents wouldn't have had---I speak English, I have a college degree, I'm fairly well-spoken.  Imagine if I were none of those things.

When Janey was first diagnosed, she was in a half day Boston Public Schools preschool.  She was there because she had a sibling preference, as her brother Freddy was a student at the same school, and she started, at age just turned 3, as a regular ed student.  When she was diagnosed, a few months after starting school, we called for an IEP meeting, which was held pretty promptly.  At that meeting, we were told verbally that the next year, when she was 4, for what Boston calls K1, 4 year old kindergarten, her needs were such that she would go to school all day, not half a day.  We didn't push for the whole day to start right away---I was okay with waiting until she was 4.

However, at the end of her 3 year old year, I was told that she wasn't going to get one of  the two full day slots in her class, that the slot had been given to someone else.  

I was very upset, of course, but I didn't insist or scream or call everyone I could think of or demand.  i should have.  But it's not my nature, and I also didn't want her moved to another school that DID have a full day slot.  I loved the school she was at.  I did ask hesitantly why they couldn't create a 3rd slot, and was told that "just wasn't possible".  

The slot went to another child.  I won't get into any details about that, but it was pretty obvious the other family did the things I didn't do---demand, threaten to sue, make their needs very strongly known.  That is what I should have done.  Or that is what I've always told myself.  But why?  Why wouldn't the schools just do the right thing?  Why did Janey getting what she needed depend on me being a parent who was informed as to what I had a right to, knowledgeable about the right people to call, and also willing to not worry about hurting feelings or alienating people?  

At that first IEP meeting, we were told that Janey would be assessed for ABA services.  That happened---about a year after we were first told it would.  The IEP services finally started a full year and a half after the IEP meeting.  I was told, over and over, that the district was swamped, that they just didn't have the resources necessary to do an evaluation, to say nothing of offer ABA.  Again---I let it go.  I mentioned it off and on, but I easily accepted the answers that it just wasn't possible.  I don't know if earlier ABA would have made a difference or not.  Over the years, the ABA services Janey has gotten have been (mostly) delivered by well meaning and kind people, but the providers seem to constantly change and to use widely different approaches.  I've been very pleased with the last few years, finally, in high school, with Janey's ABA services, but did she miss some kind of crucial time for help because I didn't demand she gets services for that year and a half when she was so young?

I should have demanded more.  I tell myself that all the time.  But WHY?  Why isn't the system set up to HELP THE CHILD WITH SPECIAL NEEDS, not to reward those with loud voices and special abilities to navigate the system?  Special needs kids occur in all kinds of families.  Why should Janey has missed out because we weren't good at demanding?

I've gotten more knowledgeable over the years, and I've gotten better at being persistent in getting what Janey needs.  I'm still not a pro at being demanding, and I probably never will be.  But in those early years, I was about as weak an advocate as I could have been.

Reading the sentence I read tonight in that report---I can't tell you how much it resonated with me.  It was like someone had finally seen what I had seen all these years---a special ed. bureaucracy that seems to exist to deny help, not provide it, unless they are faced with a very specific kind of parent---one with the resources, knowledge, means and personality to get what their child needs.  Boston schools have come close recently to being taken over by the state, and part of the reason is the problems in the special education central office.

The poignant part of this is that despite the lack of support from the higher level people, the rank and file of the Boston special ed. educators are truly some of the finest people you could possible imagine.  I can't even start to tell you how wonderful most all of Janey's teachers have been, as well as her aides, her therapists, the school staffs from top to bottom including the clerical staff, the cafeteria workers, the principals, the IEP team leaders---I am happy to count many of those people as friends, and Janey and our family are so lucky to have them.  And they are as unsupported by the bureaucracy as we are.

I know this isn't just a problem in Boston.  It's a problem that exists all over, and until we decide that we will put children first, and give them what they need to succeed, it will keep existing.  Let's have a system that, instead of waiting for the demanding voices to demand, listens instead to the unspoken needs of those who, for so many different reasons, don't demand but so much need the help.