1. Just think positive
  2. You should be more like [insert name here]
  3. You should be hanging out with people your own age
  4. How come you aren’t doing more social things?
  5. You spend too much time alone
  6. You need to put down the phone and visit more at this party
  7. Do you want to come to my Jamberry party? Continue reading
Advertisements

Something inside of me is broken… and there is no fix. I can learn. I can adapt. I can make up for it. But it will always be broken.

I am missing a crucial chip deep within the mechanisms of my brain, quintessential to the human existence. …I don’t possess it. I can look normal. I can speak normal. I can seem to respond normal. But at the end of the day, without this chip, I am not normal. And it can wreak its havoc as a result. Continue reading

Screenshot (11)


I am a chameleon. When placed against my surroundings, I absorb and change colors innately acquiring language, facial expressions, mannerisms, feelings. All seeps within. Continue reading

2015-06-02 17.01.07

I started the post An Imperfect Science yesterday about a young girl I work with who has Asperger’s. My intent of posting was to share how challenging it is to do the right thing, respond the right way, and have all the right answers—no matter who you are and no matter how much perspective you have. It is hard.

But along the way in writing, I came across a crucial piece that I thought should entirely merit its own post. Throwing a lifeline. Continue reading

2011115-06-02 17.02.35
For all that I’ve started writing, all the thousands of words I’ve already written, and all the attempts to dive deeper, I feel like I just need to say that I fail too. I struggle to reach out to children with Asperger’s, I struggle to support them in the way they need to be, and I know I make mistakes. Life and humans are an imperfect science.

I work with a young child with Asperger’s syndrome. In being able to understand much of what she’s going through, she clings to me. I am able to speak to her in a tone she appreciates and, most importantly, treat her gently with kindness where others would have shown frustration, impatience, and picked her apart. Continue reading

My brain is its own vault. From the second I awake in the morning to the moments I drift off to sleep, unbeknownst to me, my brain is ravenously devouring all that is around me. Every thought, every thought upon thoughts, every observation, every analysis, every action, every word, every emotion gets shoved into the busy, busy vault. But little gets to leave.

To know so much, to keep so much, seems like a gift of humanity. But it is far from it. Continue reading

Shakespeare was right to create new words for the English language. Lacking adequate description, our words are hopelessly vague. One of our laziest representations is the word “can’t.” In the French language, there are two words to our one. Pouvoir is the direct translation you would receive from a dictionary for our word “can.” Conjugated, I can becomes je peux. I can’t becomes je ne peux pas.

However, live in France and you would find that this verb is rarely used. The direct translation of “I can’t” is reserved for things that are physically impossible, instances that truly cannot be. It is not watered down or weak, it is for direct situations where there is a physical impossibility. Continue reading