A Small Thing

Nothing stays the same. Everything changes. 

That's the opening for one of my attempts to write something today. It's a piece on depression. I got partway through trying to describe the deepest pits of despair and darkness, and then I realized I didn't really want to talk about that. 

Even taking out politics, I think we've all had enough of that this year. Heck, enough of that for the past four years. 

So, slight confession. I don't know exactly how anniversaries work and how they're calculated. I just know that on 15 October 2010, I wrote Real Communication Shutdown, which was followed by Autistics Speaking Day and Preparing to be Loud. 

It is now 2020, and 11 years later. And I'm not sure whether the 10th anniversary was last year or this year. I'm not very good at these sorts of things. But I counted the years on a piece of paper, and according to my count, it's been eleven years. 

It definitely doesn't feel like yesterday. This year alone has felt too much like forever for it to be yesterday. But I'm reminded of both the changes and the similarities, both the good and the bad. 

There are the obvious things: I live in a different location. I dress differently, my hair has grown and I dye it a different colour. 

Family drama has come and gone and most like will come again. 

I've learned that my body is not quite as reliant as I thought it was, and the gears of capitalism is wearing it down. 

And countless other things, the painful, the joyful, the sorrow, and the wonder. 

Including, the fact that this is the year that I am finally finishing my Disability Studies degree. As I type, I am in my last elective course: creative writing. One might think I can get by with minimum effort, and then pass. But they would be wrong. There are some frustrating aspects about the course; there are a lot of readings that show great misunderstandings and misjudgment towards genre fiction. It's a widespread attitude throughout academia that makes studying creative writing typically difficult. 

However, I'm making my own challenges for the class, taking the assignments as they're given and putting my own twist to them. And the result is that I'm finding myself more encouraged to write more.

The last few months, I've been making more things, sewing, embroidering and crafting. It's been a sliver of silver lining, and I wish I could just stay home and create.

I know that there are still troubles ahead of us, and I hold onto the fact that writing gives joy. That making things makes me happy and gives me reasons to start my day. It might be a small thing, sometimes, but sometimes a small thing is all a person needs to keep going. 

And sometimes, a small thing becomes a big thing, and lasts for years. 

Here's to making things. Here's to the small things. Here's to the big things. Here's to the things that just make us happy in these dark times. Let them keep us together. 

For ASDay 2017 and Ever After

I didn't think I was going to write something this year.

I have two works in progress waiting for me to finish, after all. A piece on how jokes can be harmful, especially when IEPs and disability are thrown in, and an open letter to Simon Baron-Cohen about how he's completely ignorant on neurodiversity when he tried to write about it in a recent article.

These are pieces that are so close to being completed. And like a lot of my work, I'm not sure how to conclude them. How do I tell when something is finally done? How do I wrap it up?

It's a problem I have with my writing, it's a problem I have with a lot of projects. I wonder if it's going to be a problem I'll have with ASDay. I hope one day I'll be able to say "okay, it's been a good run. We did what we set out to do. We're no longer needed," and pack it all up.

And while I think 2017 has been a bit of a slow year, for various reasons, I don't think this is the year that happens.

It may be the year I spent the night before hanging out with a friend having a mental health crisis. It may be the year I spent the evening beforehand at work on a retail shift wearing inappropriate shoes because I was in costume and totally regret it (always, ALWAYS wear appropriate work shoes, even if it doesn't go with your costume). It may be the year I only got 5 hours sleep and dashed out the door to a doctor's appointment.

It may be the year my doctor told me to stop doing everything that I love, to stop typing, to stop writing, to stop all my hobbies and restrict all my leisure pursuits. It may be the year that I promptly ignored my doctor's advice and spent over twelve hours on the internet, doing what I love.

Because ASDay is still needed. Because someone sent in a 20-page essay on neurodiversity as philosophy theory. Because we're still fighting for AAC to be considered a language in its own right. Because I can't count how many people send in self-discovery stories. Because autistic people are still demanding our rights, demanding to be heard.

And we're not going away.

So, for this ASDay, and the next one, and as many as it takes, here I am.

2014 ASDay and AWN PoC Anthology

[Originally posted on Autistics Speaking Day Blog Sept 12, 2014]

Hi all!

I know I have a few submissions from 2013 I need to post.  Sorry for the delay, I got delayed for too long.  But I am going to post them.  Just as soon as I finish this post.  

I'm getting ready for ASDay 2014.  It's on a Saturday this year, and I wanted to let people prepare in advance, to think about what they're going to do.  

At the same time, there is something I think that is important that may or may not appeal to participants.  But this is really important.  I know that ASDay matters to a lot of you because it gathers many voices in a large event, as well as other reasons, but I'd like to take the opportunity to address another opportunity coming up soon that people may want to concentrate working on. 

I'm going to have to disclose, of course, as I am Vice-President of the Autism Women's Network.  But AWN is working to publish an anthology on Autism and Race, and is looking for submissions, due November 14, 2014.  If you are autistic, and a person of colour, racialized, or non-white, I encourage you to look at the AWN submission guide and consider submitting something. 

This is a project lead by Lydia Brown, aka Autistic Hoya, who I don't know about you, but is one of the people I'd immediately ask "how much do you want me to write, and when do you want it?" if not go scrambling to look for something I've already written.  

But this is your choice.  I understand either way.  

What matters is you expressing yourself, your story, what you want to say about yourself as an autistic person and your life, what you want to tell other people, what you want to change about the world.  This is about you communicating and gaining power through that, about providing an outlet, a starting point.  

ASDay has been described as a blogging carnival, a festival of our "voices", our passions and dreams. It is a celebration of who we are, a memorial of our scars, a scream of our struggles, a rallying cry to continue on for our rights. Because of the most powerful words "I am not alone". 

Intersectionality is how different aspects of our identities affect our experiences, sometimes in different ways in different situations.  Like being a woman can be a privilege in one situation, or be a barrier in another, or being a person of colour, or being disabled, rich or poor, and so on. 

The anthology matters because for too long has books and Autism materials about us been dominated by parents, professionals, and white people who do not represent all experiences of autistic people.  I see it every time I walk into an Autism conference center and look at the book displays.  How can we be "Nothing About Us, Without Us" without all of us being published, without all of us being represented?

 It cannot happen. 

Not without projects like the Autism and Race anthology.  

Either way, I look forward to seeing your work!!