A few days ago I posted about my day job. Three days a week I teach mixed media at an art center for developmentally disabled adults. Been working there nearly fifteen years and it’s an amazingly rewarding job. If you didn’t read that post please take a few minutes to read it now because what I have to say will make more sense if you do. Here’s the link.
Go ahead. I’ll wait. Matter of fact, I’m going to put the tea kettle on.
Back? All caught up? Good. Because now I’ve got a video to share. Please, please PLEASE watch it. It’s less than ten minutes and I guarantee it will challenged any preconceived ideas you have about autism.
Watching this video I saw my client. The gestures, the behaviors, the ability to use technology despite her outward demeanor. I wish you could see her eyes, the light in them when we connect. There’s intelligence there. She KNOWS…
She made this painting on a day when I could get her to paint…there aren’t too many of those. She copied the poem from a book. I’m going to quote it as best I can and hopefully give the author’s name correctly. If anyone recognizes it and can correct me, please do.
“…My mind is like a big yellow bird/the bird is trapped in a world of people/and he dreams of leaving to another world…” Oscar Hanah (?)
She picked the poem herself. She KNOWS…just as I know there’s an iPad angel out there somewhere.
If you have the time, I have one more video for you. A 60 Minutes segment Apps for Autism.
And here’s a link to Carly Fleishman’s blog, the girl from the video at the top of the post. She’s come a long way for a girl who doesn’t talk. A long way….
Before you go, would you do me a favor, please. Help me scatter those iPad seeds out into the universe. Like this post on FaceBook. Retweet it. Share it on your wall. So maybe some day the yellow bird can fly freely into THIS world.
Brown things. The code name Mr. Spouse and I used for chocolate when the kids were young. Peppermint patties, our favorite. Consumed only when the kids were safely in bed. Three each. Because everyone knows four is the gateway number to binging on even simpler carbs. Like Gummies. Or Blow Pops.
We kept the Yorks in the freezer, way in the back. In an empty Garden Burger box. Under lots of other boxes unappealing to children, like spinach. And green beans. FirstBorn found them eventually. And it wasn’t by accident. When it came to candy that kid had the instincts of a drug sniffing dog.
But that was years ago. The kids are grown now. The Yorks are still in the freezer but are in plain sight. Which is good because A: we like them frozen and B: neither one of us can see worth a damn anymore. We know they’re in the top drawer, left front. Can find them by feel if we have to.
It’s been a while since I’ve indulged in brown things but I decided I wanted some tonight. I opened the freezer door and AHA!!! The lights came on, the music blared forth and I was struck upside the head by the spirit of Holy Crap! There’s a LOT of food in here. And all it’s doing is serving as a backdrop for peppermints. Because we don’t eat it. I just buy it, toss it in and hope to God we don’t have a power outage, in which case I throw it out.
Which is always nice because then, after I whine about how much food was wasted, I can start all over with a clean slate. This girl knows how to have a good time.
This is the top drawer. Yorks to the lower left. Always are. In case you ever break into my house looking for candy.
And this is the bottom. Look at all that food! I don’t even know what’s in there. Why, why WHY do I go to the grocery store every other day???
I am headed down the path to freezer burn. So I came up with a plan…. WE WILL EAT THIS FOOD. Imagine that! We’ll excavate the freezer one layer at a time until we hit bottom. We will save money and only shop for perishables like milk. Salad greens. Smoothie greens. Potato Chips.
I will not bore you with the daily details, unless I unearth something…interesting. Like the hamster that went MIA a few years ago. Or a really clever recipe for edamame. Which I haven’t eaten in years but occasionally feel compelled to buy. Probably to feed the hamster.
But I may say something about it while blogging about mixed media techniques. Like how the gesso reminds me of the bag of green beans I ate all by myself. Or something like that.
Feel free to hold me accountable to this. Feel free to join me in person or in spirit.
Don’t know about you but some nights I’ve just got to veg. Crash on the sofa with a couple of dogs. Watch TV. Eat M&Ms, the ones with almonds because nuts are healthy.
And if you happened to have read the post I wrote around the end of last year, I really meant what I said about cleaning up my act. Watching what I eat. I meant it at the time, that is. Really. But now, two weeks into the new year I’m thinking that’s sooo 2011.
And I’m a 2012 woman now. An M&M popping, dog lovin’, gen-u-wine twenty-twelve sistah girl.
So I’m sitting here, feet on the coffee table, dogs by my side, laptop on my lap, TV yakking in the background and on comes one of those commercials that tell a guy to pop a pill and grow a woody, just like that. No foreplay involved. And then the happy dude with the throbbing pants turns to the camera and says, “If you have an erection for more than four hours call your doctor.”
Hell, you won’t need to do that. The lady will HATE you by then and kill you herself. Trust me.
OK, so the first commercial was for erectile dysfunction, The next commercial, and I’m not making this up, was for one of those honker pre-cooked sausages. The ones that are close to a foot long, no matter who measures it. The smiling woman waves it in the air like a trophy and shows it to her daughter. Look what we’re having for dinner tonight, honey. Yumm…
And then she chops it up and puts it on a plate. Just like that. No foreplay involved.
Mwhahaha…
Wiping tears from my eyes. Wheezing. Wondering if Lorena B has a new job scheduling media buys for national TV.
The first time I walked through the doors of the Neighborhood Center of the Arts I was blown away. Totally blown away. Over the years I’ve watched other visitors have the same reaction. Because the art created there is raw. Authentic on a level you won’t find in an art school.
It is amazing.
I started working there shortly after that first visit. I teach mixed media three days each week. Been there nearly fifteen years.
I’m not there because of the money, trust me. This is a nonprofit that serves developmentally disabled adults, people who were either born with their genetic wires crossed or who suffered a life altering injury before their eighteenth birthday.
I’m there for them. Because I’ve learned to see beyond their disabilities. I’ve learned to see their abilities. I’ve learned to see them as people, like you and me.
Unfortunately, the rest of the world doesn’t see them that way. The state of California sees the most vulnerable among us as the most expendable. Our budget has been slashed over and over throughout the years.
We make due without raises. We scrounge for supplies. We’ve learned to make art out of damn near anything.
But there’s one client I haven’t been able to reach. I cannot tell you her name or show you her photograph due to confidentiality restrictions. But I do want to tell you about her as best I can without stepping over the privacy line.
She’s a young woman. Autistic. She spends her time in my class on the floor, half under a table. I put paper, paint and markers next to her on the floor. Somedays she’ll write on the paper, copying words from whatever reading material is handy. Some days she’ll paint. But none of this activity lasts longer than ten minutes. And that’s on a good day.
If I’m lucky. Some days she won’t do anything.
One day, in desperation, I pulled out my iPhone. I have it loaded with art apps because, well, why not? I’m an artist. I handed it to her and she immediately began exploring the apps. I was amazed at her intuitive grasp of the programs, some of which I haven’t even figured out yet.
The iPhone kept her busy for over an hour, until it was time to go. I was amazed. Totally. These are a couple of designs she made with an app called Type Drawing. She had to type the text, pick the colors and draw.
A few weeks later I brought in my iPad. Same reaction. It was as if someone had flipped on a switch. She lit up and immediately began exploring the possibilities. She wasn’t the woman hiding out from the world, she was a young woman interacting with something outside of herself.
It was an amazing transformation, one I’d dearly love to see continue. Because something like this can change a life.
But an iPad is completely out of our budget. I know, I’ve put in the request, spoken with the powers that be. So now I’m putting the seeds out into the universe. If any of you have a connection to Apple, or belong to a service organization looking for a project or want a tax write off or just have an iPad lying around that you’re not using…well, feel free to contact my boss, Amee M. ncadirector@nccn.net (530) 272-7287.
Because you never know where you’re going to find an angel.
