This past week, I have had to face many of the tougher aspects of raising and caring for autistic children head on and because of this, feel the desire to speak out. So, this post will focus on autism and not on theater, on the individuals we are trying to help and not our upcoming productions.
It is not only theaters that tend to be unfriendly towards autistic individuals, although that has become our particular focus. The basics, the day to day events that are challenging are things that non autistic individuals wouldn't give a second thought. For some people on the lower end of the spectrum, even leaving the house becomes a challenge: getting up and ready in the morning (the simple tasks of washing your face, brushing your teeth and throwing on clothes) can take hours and include fights, screams and confusion.
Things that we take for granted, simple things, eating out at a restaurant, going to see a movie, become near impossible and daunting tasks.
I was inspired to this post by an article I came across on a different blog (www.aspieteacher.com/2010/010going-out/) , reaching out for tips on how to easily conquer the difficult task of eating at a restaurant with sensory issues and looking to see what problems others have encountered.
Story time. When I was perhaps 17 years old, I ventured out to a local food chain in florida with my aunt. This was not a particularly classy establishment, some chilis-esque restaurant indigenous to the south, and so we saw no issue taking my severely autistic cousin who was four years old at the time. Joely was placed in a high chair along the aisle outside of our table while my aunt and i sat opposite each other. Now Joel was overstimulated by the noise, the people, all the new things around him and began to flail his arms just as the waiter walked by. Inevitably, like a bad comedy sketch, Joel proceeded to accidentally smack the (attractive) waiter in the ass. The waiter shot us a dirty look, assuming it was my aunt or I, but continued to the kitchen. On his return trip, Joel hit him again and my aunt and i could do nothing but laugh and avert our eyes. Now, Joel has no concept of what had happened or why the waiter was suddenly angry or why we were incredibly amused or why everyone at the nearby tables were suddenly staring, but we proceeded to get a "talking to" and the waiter got a very nice tip at the end of the day for surviving our visit. To my recollection, we have not been back since.
A few weeks before this trip out into the world beyond my aunt's house, she had tried to make a similar trek with my grandfather, well into his 80s. At a different restaurant, Joelly began to fuss while waiting for a table and shrieked. Being nonverbal at the time, this was his only means of communication. When one man rudely yelled at my family and told them to teach their son some manners my grandfather apparently threatened violence (regrettably i was not around for this night) towards the much younger and much more in fit attacker. I was left only with the amusing image of my old grandfather shaking his dragon engraved cane at this young man until he finally left them alone.
When things like this are a daily occurrence, one learns to just laugh.
I am reminded of an article i read in time magazine a few months ago providing tips on travelling with an autistic child that was actually remarkably insightful, more so then most articles i come across. found here: http://www.time.com/time/specials/packages/completelist/0,29569,1893554,00.html
A year or so ago, while visiting my aunt, we decided to make a trip out to disney world (something you need at least two adults for when all three kids are involved). About an hour into wandering the park, in the rain i might add, we noticed blood coming out of Joel's mouth. He was losing his first tooth. He had no idea what was happening. The only nearby bathroom we could find was inside a themed restaurant that includes all of the disney characters walking around, usually a huge attraction for kids. My aunt and I were forced to drag a scared, screaming Joel past mickey, minnie and pluto, all who were saying hi and trying to hug him (only confusing him more) through the dining area, filled with patron who were now staring at us in sheer terror. When we arrived at the bathroom I had to pin Joels arms behind him so he would not reach into his mouth while my aunt carefully grabbed his tooth and tried to pull it out. One poor soul emerged from within the bathroom stall so see us pulling at and restraining a screaming, bleeding child. Luckily, once we explained ourselves she no longer felt compelled to run off in search of police. After a few minutes, Joelly had lost his first tooth. We left the bathroom, back through the eerily quiet restaurant and returned to the rides, the lines, and the typical disney world events.
It is days like that that made me want to create a theater like this. To create a place where autistic individuals and their families can come to enjoy a day out, enjoy a cultural event without worrying about judgement or behavioral problems, without worrying about anything. Because everyone deserves that and so many of us take it for granted.
Here is my inspiration:
What's yours?
- Marielle
