Another Wednesday Has Come and Gone
Soundtrack to Saturday Morning (Reality Show Version)

The More Talk About Poetry and Autism, The Better

Waiting for Jim in the car

I really wanted to go into New York on Wednesday to attend this autism symposium as a friend was speaking and the program looked intriguing. I thought of rescheduling the Latin tutorial I have on Wednesday morning but decided not to as I had recently done that when Charlie was on spring break. As things turned out, only half the class (i.e., one student) showed up.

It only rains and it pours: Thursday, I went with Jim into New York and, over lunch, had a tremendous talk with Patricia, Katy and Kristen of Easter Seals.

We got back in good time before Charlie's bus. After an eagerly called for bike ride, I went to hear Priscilla Gilman read from her book The Anti-Romantic Child and found myself thinking about autism, poetry and my two favorite Romantic authors, John Keats and Heinrich von Kleist, and time and lyric poetry and the sublime and beauty. And, about the happy coincidence of Autism Awareness/Acceptance Month and National Poetry Month.

Jim has referred to Charlie on his bike as 'poetry in motion.'

With all this ferment of activity, Charlie is still awake with 2am nearing. He can (I feel sure) sense how today was very different, full of too many good ideas and great talk, much of it centered upon no one less than himself.



Emma Gibbons

I'm going to follow this. Today I went to my autistic child and they went with him. In fact they followed us to the library, the newsagent and a cafe for a veggie sandwich. He has something in his eye. He has lost his soul and we both had bad dreams last night (due to the outdoors ornaments they have put up on the walls in his room). He used to sleep late occasionally but it became manageable in the two years that he was home schooled. On the train on the way home I was nearly in tears over the stories in the Mail about the parenting skills house and the failed parents, and then the Sharons in Hackney. Was it autism or was I just a poor parent even though I did learning disabilities as a specialism at uni? Kaner et al comes to mind 'Refrigerator mothers'. Kipling has featured as a thread in our lives. Not into Keats 'fraid.

Kristina Chew

I think about 'Refrigerator Mothers' quite a bit; however debunked the myth of autism caused by bad parenting is, the worries about not having done the right thing at this or that moment persist.

What Kipling are you thinking of?

I have a fondness for 'Ode on a Grecian Urn." Something about how Keats talks about looking at the scenes on a Greek vase and imaging them as being caught just so for eternity -- there have been many moments with Charlie when things seem just 'so right' and he's so happy and I've just wished we could freeze that moment forever.

Very good to hear from you---

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