Dear Gabriel

Autism is horrible word. It is one of those words that is surrounded by quite a lot of fear. Ignorance is partly responsible for this fear, and you could certainly place me in this category. As you may have gathered from previous blogs, a pet peeve of mine is the ridiculous lack of special needs education within JCU's Early Childhood Education degree. Even though autism would have to be one of my least favourite things, it is also something that I am hoping to know a lot more about by the time that I have finished my degree. At the moment I am reading a book called "Dear Gabriel". It is very exciting to be reading a book that isn't on some sort of compulsory reading list put together by a humanistic lecturer. I don't really get a chance to do a whole lot of reading during semester, because I'm usually cross-eyed by the end of the day from struggling through Uni material and procrastinating on facebook. Anywho... this book is a letter written by a father to his son; a little boy who has autism. The author is a great writer; very descriptive and it is clearly a heartfelt memoir. So far it has toyed with my emotions a little bit because I can only imagine how difficult it would be to parent a child with autism. One of the joys of children (and there are many) is the 'closeness' that you can have with them. Countless hugs and cuddles, hearing the words "I love you", a little hand holding onto yours - all of these things make me smile and fill my heart with so much joy. If I was unable to share this kind of closeness with my own child, and if my child didn't understand the extent of the love that I have for them; I would be shattered. That said, if a child has autism it doesn't necessarily mean that they will live a detached existence. I worked with a little boy in grade one who has autism at the beginning of the year, and he would constantly hold my hand and want to sit on my lap during class. I have the utmost respect for parents who have children with autism and who love them abundantly. There are many parents like this, and it is amazing to see how a parent's love can see beyond something as emotionally crippling as autism.

I have spent time with a number of autistic children, through various pracs and work. These beautiful children, along with the little boy in this book, have shown me that autism can manifest itself in so many different ways. No child is the same, even though they may display some similarities in behaviour. An inability to decipher social situations is a fairly well-known characteristic of autistic children. Although again, this can take many forms. The author of "Dear Gabriel" writes about his son's fixation with routine, lack of interpersonal skills and a tendency to interpret everything that is said literally. Every autistic child that I have spent time with has struggled with relating to others socially to some degree. I was in a classroom that has 3 boys with autism this year. Two of the boys, aged 9, were playing with leggo on the carpet. I sat down beside the boys and began to talk with them about what they were doing, making an effort to sound super interested. After about 30 seconds one of the boys turned to me, looking completely exasperated, and said "Do you really have to sit there watching us all the time?!". On a separate occasion I was on playground duty watching a few of the boys who had been fighting that week (a couple of them had autism). Before I knew it a few of the boys had surrounded one of the boys with autism and were pushing him around and hitting him. So I put on my cranky teacher's voice (it needs work) and marched over to the boys, broke up the fight and told the boys how disappointed I was (discipline also needs work - as if they would care if I was disappointed). After my feeble attempt at being firm, I went over to the little boy with autism to see if he was ok. He wasn't ok. He was completely tormented and frustrated and did not want anything to do with me. This little boy, with clenched fists and on the brink of tears, was so distraught that he could not speak a word, all he could do was let out a heartbreaking scream every now and then. My attempts to try and comfort him seemed to aggravate him further. I have never seen a little boy's eyes so full of anger, fear and utter frustration simultaneously. He ended up running off, which was hard but I knew that I couldn't chase him.

Even though these are clear examples of children with autism who struggle in social situations, there are exceptions. Another boy with autism who I have spent time with, aged 9, has trouble relating to his peers, yet was completely comfortable in talking to me about some pretty serious things. In fact he even spoke to me about his autism. It was heartbreaking to hear this boy talk about how he was struggling and falling behind the other children. Although I think the most difficult thing to hear was how resigned this boy was to the fact that he is 'different'. It is good that he wasn't in denial, but it is never nice to hear a child express a feeling of inadequacy and show that they have no expectations of their ability to overcome this. It was helpful to talk to this boy about the gifts and talents that he does have, and he certainly has many, although such encouragement is often temporary.

"Dear Gabriel" documents something that I'm sure every parent can relate to - the desire to nurture and love the precious gift that is children. Autism has certainly proven to be an obstacle to this. Although how wonderful to see in the lives of countless families that love prevails. How wonderful that our awesome Father has equipped the hearts of parents to love their children unconditionally.

In a rich man's world...

Happy Christmas Eve!
I have just eaten a bowl of cherries, peaches and nectarines and am feeling particularly content. Hurrah for festive fruits! Although this blog wasn't intended to boast about my gluttony or to ramble about the joys of fruits that make an appearance during the Christmas season. Christmas Eve can mean many things. For many it is a time of anxiety. For some this anxiety is entirely superficial. "I will just DIE if great aunt Josephine doesn't love the $100 ornamental duck I bought her this year!" You can replace great aunt Josephine with Grandma Mary, or Mrs Potts down the road, or your 8 year old cousin; and you can replace the ornamental duck with a Nintendo Wii, or a longboard, or a year's subscription to Cosmo; the result is the same. Whilst the giving of gifts is a wonderful and generous thing, if this is what threatens to make or break the joy-factor of Christmas, we are missing the point. I have been thinking about money, gifts and the 'importance' of material things over the past couple of days. This doesn't make me particularly insightful; I'm sure that most people have been thinking about these things in one way or another. On Sunday night Warren gave a sermon on finances, and how the Bible reassures us that God will provide for His people. I'm sure that most of us hope that when the Bible says that God will 'provide' it means that we will live a comfortable existence free from financial stress that allows all of the latest mod cons to be within reach. As nice as that would be, it is humbling to realise that even when God's definition of 'providing' may differ from our own, He will provide, and we can rest in that promise. Throughout the sermon, Warren challenged us to allow God to be the one who manages our finances. So this week I have been thinking about what that should look like from a practical standpoint. As Christians, the way that we earn and spend money should glorify the One who has provided for us, so what does this mean during the Christmas season, and even in our everyday purchases? I have spent time in the houses of many wonderful Christian families, who are giving and welcoming people and who clearly live Christ centred lives. Yet many of these families have plasma TVs that take up half of the wall, every imaginable gadget and time saving device, all of the latest toys/DVDs/virtual games, wardrobes full of fashionable clothing, bathrooms full of countless products/makeup/smelly things, and kitchens full of expensive gourmet food. For many this encapsulates ideal living in our society, but is this really glorifying our Father with our finances? Now.. I will just point out that I am a Uni student with a limited income who is employed by Education Queensland yet relies on the royalties of babysitting during the school holidays, and who, for argument's sake and to complete the visual, has just noticed a hole in the shirt that she is wearing, yet knows that she will continue to wear it. In this stage of my life it is quite easy for me to be outraged at people who seem to spend money willy-nilly, knowing that there is no risk that I will do the same because I simply cannot afford it. I wonder if when I am old and rich (unlikely on a teacher's wage.. but the 'marrying a rich husband' plan hasn't been ruled out yet..) I will still feel uncomfortable about pouring huge amounts of money into superficial things that are supposed to enhance and enrich our lives. I hope that I never use our society and culture as an excuse to justify spending the money that God has blessed me with on things that are purely designed to serve myself and satisfy selfish desires, or encourage that in others.
Merry Christmas to everyone who reads this! Praise God for the real reason for the season - when He gave the most precious gift of all!

I Heart Swearing....

Yesterday I had a bit of free time on my hands so I thought that I would head over to Domain Central and have a bit of a squiz. I'm not really sure why the word 'squiz' means 'to have a look around', but I quite like it, so let's just go with that. I had only been to Domain for four reasons in the past. Firstly, to buy an iron with Cam (we were there for about five minutes). Secondly, to go to JB HI FI (great music at great prices). Thirdly, Baskins (doesn't need to be explained). Fourthly, Gloria Jeans (I would go there after Kindy each week to write up my observations, the people who work there are so friendly...). I had heard that there were outlet shops there but I'd never had a look (or a squiz) for myself. That's partly because I'm really not a fan of shopping. Yes, I know that as a woman I am supposed to have an inherently irrational love of spending large amounts of money on useless things to adorn myself with... but I don't. I'm sure it would be different if I could find a way to justify spending huge sums of money for the sake of vanity (regardless of whether or not I actually had the money), but I just don't find shopping particularly enjoyable. Especially clothes shopping. The women's clothes industry is set on making women feel inadequate. From the second you walk into a clothes shop you are confronted with society's interpretation of the ideal woman, and how you fall short. The shop keepers greet you with a plastic smile that rivals the plastic smiles of the malnourished mannequins and regurgitate the same rehearsed line that they have been saying to each customer for the last five hours. If you're not partial to mind-numbing computer generated noise that is often mistaken as music by 15 year olds on a global scale, you won't last more than 3 minutes in one of these stores. So anyway... I went shopping and found a $5 t-shirt from the Cotton On outlet and a pair of well priced running shorts, so it was a successful day. As I was meandering around the shops I went into Trade Secret for a squiz and was very disappointed by one of the t-shirts I saw hanging on a stand. These t-shirts were in the children's section of the store and were in tiny sizes that 7-8 year old girls could quite comfortably wear. The front of the shirts proudly exclaimed "I Heart Swearing" surrounded by a red love heart. Now as mentioned in previous blogs, it is possible that I am old fashioned and overly conservative, both of which I am completely ok with, but it is beyond me how we can consider clothes that bare slogans such as these acceptable for children. Through clothes such as these we outwardly glorify the crude and degrading aspects of society. This directly contradicts what we are urged to value through the Bible: (Philippians 4:8-9) "Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable - if anything is excellent or praiseworthy - think about such things".
Swearing does not fall under this category. Foul and crude language is increasingly becoming a behaviour that we ignore in children. If children swear in the schooling context, unless it is directly expressed towards a teacher the consequences rarely go beyond "I don't appreciate your language" or, even more terrifying; "I don't want to hear you say that in my classroom". More often than not foul language displayed by students is ignored. Why? Well, everyone swears. Parents swear, teachers swear, as a result students swear, what's the big deal? It's an unavoidable element of society, which I agree with, but that doesn't mean that we should not only tolerate it, but blatantly celebrate it. What hope do children have of growing up with moral groundings if society deems the ugly parts of life 'cool' based purely on the fact that they stray from what is right? From my experience with children (which is admittedly isn't overly extensive), such attitudes do not need to be encouraged. So many children are missing out on the beauty that is found in life because what they see is clouded by ugliness unashamedly highlighted by the retail and entertainment industries. I would like to know what is going through the minds of people who design shirts such as these and produce them in tiny sizes. Actually, I think I already know what they would be thinking: $$$. What a shame it comes at the expense of a child's innocence.

Something for Kate...

I had an interesting night tonight and thought that I would share it here. After church I went to Miccy D's (a.k.a Maccas - thanks Tarnia! :)) briefly with a few of the Bapo's crew, then had a lovely chat with Anita at her place and decided at 10pm that I would go home and have an early night as I have a cold and was feeling a little weary. As I was driving through the round about near the Douglas Foodworks store I noticed a young girl who was hitchhiking. Without even thinking I rolled down my window and asked if she would like a lift - the look of relief on her face was unmistakable. This girl looked about 15 years old, 16 tops.. who knows who might have picked her up. There was no reason why I couldn't pick her up, it's not like I had somewhere I needed to be, and it worried me that such a young girl was hitchhiking. So I got off the round about, pulled over and got out of the car to meet her. Her name was Kate. She didn't know the exact location of her friend's house that she wanted to be dropped at, but said that it was near Willows so I thought we'd give it a whirl. When I asked Kate why she needed a lift she said that her Mum had kicked her out of home again and left her with nowhere to go. Kate went on to say that her Mum has kicked her out of home a number of times, for a few different reasons. Conflict, fighting and lies were some of the reasons.. Kate's Mum doesn't trust her and this mistrust has been fueled by stories that some of Kate's housemates have told her. The last straw came when Kate's Mum discovered that Kate had been using acid. Kate doesn't go to school because her parents continually kick her out of home. Even though being kicked out of home makes going to school difficult from a practical standpoint - in terms of transport, money, etc.. I am not surprised that it has killed Kate's motivation to persevere with school. Kate doesn't have a job. She was supposed to have an interview at Miccy D's yesterday but didn't make it (she doesn't have transport or a phone). As we were driving (all we knew was that we were looking for Miles Avenue - anyone who knows what my sense of direction is like will understand that we may as well have been driving blind) I tried to keep the conversation going. We talked about things like music and what Kate does for fun. As we got closer to Willows it became clear that we would need to pull over and ask for directions. So we pulled into a servo and had a look at a map to see where we were going. Kate is a very pretty girl.. she was well dressed and had quite a lot of make up on. Actually if you had of lined us up and asked someone to tell you would had just been kicked out of home they probably would have pointed at me - Kate's hair was certainly much neater than mine. Once we had found the street that we were looking for (turned out to be in Kelso) we jumped into the car and continued on our way. As we were driving I asked Kate about the drugs that she takes. It seems that she takes them infrequently.. but the more she takes them the harder it is to resist. Kate said that she doesn't want to take drugs, but sometimes she just needs to escape for a few hours. She just needs to numb what she is feeling. Although after the high of the acid has worn off she just feels angry and depressed and the pain of her problems is just as acute. We talked for a bit longer and I asked if she had ever been to church. She had been to a couple of youth groups in the past yet was banned from one of them because she and her ex would frequently fight, and she stopped going to another because she didn't feel that the youth groups helped her issues. From here I was able to tell Kate that church itself doesn't fix problems, because only God can heal pain and provide a purpose for our lives. I talked with Kate about God (being careful not to ramble) and invited her along to church. When we arrived at her friend's house I wrote down my name and number on a scrap of paper using her eye liner pencil and urged her to call me, not just if she wants to go to church, but if she needs anything at all. Those who are reading who pray, please pray for Kate. Please pray for her safety - the friend that she is staying with has a stepfather who Kate is afraid of. Please pray that she will call me... she doesn't have a phone so I have no way of contacting her but I would really like to follow up with her if it is at all possible.
As I was driving home from dropping off Kate I couldn't stop thinking about her. Many of us find it so easy to forget about these children. The only thing motivating children such as these to keep fighting through life is an acute fear of death and the unknown. These children have no-one to love them, they do not know what it feels like to be safe because they have never experienced the stability of a loving family. What are we doing for these children? Well... we ridicule them for hanging out in shopping centres and car parks yet fail to see that these are probably the only places where they feel safe. We criticise their lack of respect and moral groundings yet fail to recognise that these virtues must be taught and modelled. We cannot expect a child to display behaviours that they have never seen for themselves. The only hope that a lot of these children have is the few hours of mind numbing relief they experience after taking some form of drug. The only thing keeping them from falling is the ability to forget. If this is the only thing that our youth have to hope for.. we're in big trouble.