Election Day

The presidential candidates have made their final arguments.  I've been making a final electoral argument too, on the political sites I frequent, arguing that for many people whose lives are affected by disabilities, this election hinges on Medicaid.  (Prof. Paul Krugman of the New York Times has made the Medicaid argument too, so I'm not alone in this.)

However, when I went and looked at my closing argument regarding the Walker recall here in Wisconsin this past June, I realized that what I said then still does a great job of summing up this presidential election, from a different emphasis.  Here's what I said [with a few additions in square brackets]:

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Walker's Wisconsin represents a future that the wealthiest of the far-right have been coordinating and working toward in America for decades now.  I didn't understand it until the events of last February [2011] opened my eyes.  But it is real, it is dire, and it has been in process of happening for years now in this country.  The end-game is plutocracy -- government by the wealthy, for the wealthy.

That's what the ginned-up anger about taxes is about -- so the wealthiest and their corporations can continue to pay less and less toward the common good.

That's what the privatization movement is about -- private prisons, private schools, private all-sorts-of-things that have traditionally been public enterprises but are in the process of claiming more and more tax dollars to the profiteering benefit of the few.

That's what demonizing unions is about -- the last coordinated voices on behalf of workers, who have already seen wages stagnate over the past few decades, falling further and further behind the rising cost of living, while CEO pay rises into the stratosphere and the wealthiest of the wealthy hoover up the lion's share of the past decades' economic gains.

That's why money has been defined as free-speech -- for the purposes of buying electoral majorities in both the courts and the legislatures, so that the plutocratic policies can pass with unstoppable margins.  (Witness the astonishing flow of big-donor dollars, 70% from out of state, to the Walker coffers.)  [This time around in Wisconsin it's the Baldwin/Thompson US Senate campaign, which has attracted more outside spending than any other national race this cycle other than the presidency and a Senate race in Virginia.]

By the money-is-speech definition, disability issues tend to be pretty darn silent as well.  I've written before about the ALEC threats to insurance mandates, the devastating and irresponsible cap on Wisconsin's Family Care program (which the federal government subsequently forced the state to lift), the (so-far unsuccessful) attempts to privatize special education in Wisconsin.  The disability lobby is not a wealthy one.  We've got people-power -- but not money-power.

Wisconsin's issues are a microcosm of a nationwide takeover.  I've come to believe that plutocracy is THE central issue of the upcoming national elections this November.

We need to push back whenever and wherever we can.

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Please vote.

Splashes, Splashes

Five and a half years ago, Joy had a five-word-phrase in her repertoire for a brief span.  It was a line from Ring Around the Rosy:  "Ashes, ashes, all fall down!"

I went back to the archive of team-messages that I've been using for group communication for years, and there it was in the seventh message (we're up to #1551 by now):

I had to work very hard not to laugh the other day when she flung her cup, and then sang out her version of "Ashes, ashes, all fall down!"

I'd forgotten that incident, but remembered hearing the phrase on at least two additional occasions.  And then... Elvis left the building, the sliders on Joy's mixer board slid into a new position, and the phrase disappeared.

Fast forward to this weekend.

Joy came home from school on Friday with a new piece of artwork, this one containing both swirls and dots.   This one had been created to the tune of Ring Around the Rosy, a tune that Joy had suddenly begun to request that day.  We also learned that she'd been excited to work with LeapFrog phonics toys at school, which she'd connected with at home in a big way right around the end of 2011.  And the Brown Bear theme had continued at school as well, evidenced in a copy of Baby Bear, Baby Bear coming home with her for the weekend.

It rained most of the weekend.  Ordinarily this would be a bummer, but we've had a long string of parched weeks, so the rain was actually very welcome.  And guess who got to go out and make splashes and splashes, stomping in the puddles among the fallen leaves?

We played Ring Around the Rosy in the puddles, and Mama substituted a new line for the "ashes" line (that probably isn't a reference to the Black Death, though it's an oft-told myth):  Splashes, splashes, all fall down! Joy responded with many splashes and stomps and giggles, and helpfully refraining from actually falling down.

Then something seemed to catch her attention.  She looked, leaned to the side, took another looong look.

"Joy, what do you see?" asked Mama.

The response grew out of Brown Bear and our stomping-splashes, and just about took my breath away.

I see bird -- stomp, stomp, stomp!

Six words, gentle readers.  Six in a row, one more even than our long-lost Ring Around the Rosy line, in an original combination.

She was working other spoken-combos this weekend, too.  She says them slowly, with great emphasis, almost with a period after each word.

I. Want. iPad!

I. Want. Help!  

I. Want. Cracker!  

I. Want. Bread!  (This last was a request for the infamous zucchini bread)

I haven't heard a spoken request for a hug yet.  But you'd better believe she was receiving, this weekend.

And as for me, I am so greedy.

I. want. more.

But there were moments to be lived in, this weekend, and each one was a miracle unto itself.

Autumn

Two photos taken in the middle of town this weekend, at a conservation park right across the street from Joy  & Rose's elementary school.

To make a prairie it takes a clover and one bee,—

One clover, and a bee,

And revery.

The revery alone will do

If bees are few.

-- Emily Dickinson

Who knows what it is to be running?

Only [s]he that is running knows...

-- PDQ Bach

Brown Bear Banned

The below tidbit came my way from a college friend on Facebook, who'd seen my post on Joy's "Brown Bear" moment.  The "banned" image came with the accompanying text below:

In 2010, a member of the Texas State Board of Education called for the removal of "Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See?" by Bill Martin, Jr. from the state curriculum. Why? The board member said that Martin's works for adults contain “very strong critiques of capitalism and the American system." Fortunately, someone pointed out to this mistaken board member that Bill Martin, Jr. was not Bill Martin, a philosophy professor and author of "Ethical Marxism: The Categorical Imperative of Liberation." Oops.

JoyDad's response was swift:

Brown Bear, Brown Bear, what do you see?

I see a struggle between the proletariat and the bourgeoisie!

JoyTeachers, take note.  We depend on you to convey to our daughter, in suitable terms, the enduring significance of the RED bird!

Similarities (Row, Row edition)

Three years ago, I wrote a post titled Similarities.  The post listed a whole string of commonalities with a sweet young lady in Massachusetts and her family, whom we've never met except in the blogosphere.  But I know of no other child who is more like Joy than Rhema.

In September 2009, the post was about their shared love of window dancing.

Yesterday, I got chills when I found the following clip on the Rhema-blog, Autism in a Word.




If you close your eyes and just listen -- might have to turn the volume up a little, it's a phone-video -- this could be me and Joy.  We do exactly the same thing with songs, where Joy fills in the blank.  Row, Row is one of our favorites.  Joy requests it by grabbing an adult's hands, swaying, and crooning "Whoa, whoa."

Even that might not have been enough to nudge me to write this post.  But then I opened Joy's backpack when she got home from school, and I found these.

"Row, Row" pictures

Joy's been hard at work in art class again.  Two weeks ago, she made her first Song Spots art, dotting with a Magic Marker in time to music.  Last week, she used a paintbrush and dotted in time to "C is for Cookie."

This week, she worked in two different media, paint and crayons, producing the artworks above.  She had a different aide for yesterday's class, who didn't know "C is for Cookie" (Joy's first request) but they quickly settled on a different song.  The artwork for October 5 is brought to you in time with Rhema's song:  Row, row, row your boat.

One year, some time, some how, these girls must meet.  And their mamas, and their sisters -- we could even bring the dads along, if everyone's in the same country at the same time!  I wonder if Rhema and Joy would recognize the kinship that's so spine-tinglingly evident to their blogging-mamas?

I think they might.  Especially if there are windows to dance in, and familiar songs with just the right blanks to fill in.

Star of the Week

When you wish upon a star, your dreams come true.

-- Jiminy Cricket

Joy is Star of the Week this week in her class.

Her teacher went first, to demonstrate.  The Star of the Week gets to do a poster all about themself, bring a special snack, fill up the classroom Estimation Jar with something-or-other for the class to guess how-many, and a couple of other goodies.

Joy went next.

We worked on her poster during the weekend.  Lots of questions to answer, some of them to the best of our ability since Joy doesn't tell us directly.  (Favorite color?  Not sure -- we asked her, and let her pick a magic-marker as a way of telling us.  It came up pink, which I suppose is fair.)  Rose wrote the text, Joy did some "Song Spots" artwork, and here's how it turned out, with selective blurring on certain details:

I baked a couple extra loaves of our super-special zucchini bread with mini-chocolate chips to send for snack.  We filled the Estimation Jar with little Lincoln Logs, a task that we ended up doing several times at home because Joy was having so much fun dropping the logs into the jar and back into a basket.

I sent the poster and zucchini bread and estimation jar in with Joy, and then came back after lunch on Monday to talk about the poster.

When I arrived at the class, I met a rush of excited students who were practically falling over themselves to tell me how much they loved the zucchini bread!  They'd eaten almost every crumb.  It was clear they could identify with Joy on why this would be listed on the poster as her favorite food!

Joy was able to stick with the group for the entire poster presentation, her aide by her side.  Her classmates were interested to hear that she gets to sleep in a tent every single night!  When I shared that her favorite animals were monkeys and bunnies, one of her classmates who has been over to visit a few times in the past piped up about getting to see Joy's pet bunnies (no longer with us, alas.) 

But the real magic happened on the question about Joy's favorite book.  I'd put down "Brown Bear, Brown Bear" as our answer, and asked the class how many of them knew that book.  Every hand shot up!  And to cement the connection, I softly sang the first line: "Brown bear, brown bear, what do you see? I see a red bird looking at me!"

And then I was just about to move on to the next question, when we heard a quiet utterance from Joy.  She had picked up her aide's hand and begun tapping in rhythm, singing, "bow beh, bow beh..."

Joy wants to sing?  Joy gets to sing.  The class all joined in as I led them through a memorized rendition of the entire book, with Joy smiling and singing and tapping along.  They were all with me, all the way through. A glorious connection.

After the poster, I stuck around to help as the class moved on to a math lesson.  But first the teacher went in search of a book.  She didn't have a copy of Brown Bear in the room, but she did have "Baby Bear."  So while the class did math, Joy and her SEA went through the whole "Baby bear, baby bear" book over and over again. Joy simply glowed.

Last night at home during her bath and after, I heard Joy talking.  There were definite, separate words -- some one syllable, some two -- with pauses between, and different vowels and consonants.  It happened three different times.  It felt like there was a sentence there each time, but each time was different.  And I couldn't understand.  I was in awe, feeling something new and big pushing through, but not quite connected enough myself to understand what was there.

JoyDad said afterwards that Joy had been singing bits of Brown Bear to her therapist at her clinic session.  That might be part of it.  I'll listen for that next time, assuming that this wasn't an Elvis Sighting that goes away for goodness-knows-how-long.

But it might have been something completely new. I think there may be something big about to happen.  I'm wishing on my Star, because this just may be a dream waiting to come true.

Music and Speech

We got our piano tuned the other week.  Rose has been making great strides with her piano lessons, making the instrument sing each morning with her practicing -- so we wanted to be sure it was singing in key!  (Didja hear the one about how people keep having to break into song because they can't find the key?  Heh.)

Anyway, the guy who did the turning also plays a variety of instruments but is particularly skilled with the marimba.  He's won numerous awards, plays from a repertoire of over 250 songs, and has performed in Wisconsin's Capitol Rotunda.

He also has autism, and didn't speak until he was eleven.  Now, in his mid-thirties, his list of accomplishments is long.  In his work as a piano tuner, he is accompanied by his mentor, a retired piano tech who supervises his work and helps him stay focused.  His mom, who manages his scheduling, also taught him at home.  By the time we'd completed the whole transaction, I wound up with two of their CDs -- one of his performances, one of her compositions.

Mom's songs, as it turned out, were integral to his education.  Twenty-some years ago, public schools were open to students with disabilities thanks to the 1975 "Education for All Handicapped Children Act" (predecessor to IDEA) -- but in his case at least, they weren't very successful at figuring out how to serve him.  His mother was a kindergarten teacher, and she discovered that what he best responded to was music; that if you sang his lessons to him, the material would actually stick.  So her CD features the songs of his education, created as she put together a music-laced curriculum for him.

Joy, meanwhile, has gotten off to a fine start this school year.  I was concerned that the transition back into school, with a mostly new-to-her team and coming off a late-summer riddled with behavioral challenges, was going to be rocky at best.  But her new special-educator and teacher and student-teacher met with us repeatedly in August, processed the mounds of input we had for them, and felt like partners in the education of Joy before classes even started.

On top of that, Joy has been blessed with musical SEAs (special education assistants).  The past two years, she was met first thing every morning by an SEA who plays drums and teaches piano.  We were sorry to leave that aide behind as Joy moved up to 2nd grade, but simply delighted to hear her new morning-greeter SEA announce, "I'm a singer!"  Joy's affinity for melody and tempo was quickly evident to this new SEA.  We've been hearing updates about Joy echoing little tunes and tapping rhythms.

Then on Friday, she sent home this piece of artwork.

"Song Spots"

Joy, who had never made it all the way through art class before as far as I knew, hung in for a full 45 minutes with her singer-SEA on Friday and dotted this sheet in one marker-color after another -- in time to music.  It sounds like her art teacher got into the act with the music as well.  I know he plays the bass, and the note said "Teacher plays quiet jazz too!"

Teachers have been badly scapegoated lately in Wisconsin and nationwide, and SEAs are even further down the totem pole.  As a Madison teacher-blogger posted just yesterday:

SEAs choose to stay in a career where they are often sworn at, kicked and challenged. They do this, because they care about our children and they understand the importance of their role in our students’ lives. We need to start rewarding SEAs both financially and by treating them with the professionalism they deserve.  Most importantly, we must create school conditions that foster success for the students they serve.

Indeed.

In tandem with the new music delights, we've had a burst of words these past weeks as well.  The speech-settings on Joy's mixer-board are hitting new highs.  I now regularly hear at snack-time, when Joy finishes the first serving of goldfish -- "moh... CACK-uh!"  Not too long ago, when Joy was angling for her iPad (which was busy charging up on the other side of the bedroom door), we got a three-word prompted utterance out of her: "I... want... iPad"!  Heck, just yesterday JoyDad was watching football with her, and was teaching her to raise her arms and say "Touchdown"!  (Next on the list of sports-speak to teach her will be "Go Bears!")

Music to our ears.

And yet, while all this wonderful music and speech and overlap between the two is happening on the home front, down at Wisconsin's Capitol, a new Chief of Capitol Police has been tasked with squelching musical free speech in the Capitol Rotunda.

I've blogged about the Solidarity Sing Along before: red heart balloons, and holiday defiance in the face of an attempted December crackdown last year.  Since March of 2011, the Sing Along has gathered daily to continue expressing opposition to the ongoing depredations of the Walker administration.  This remarkable resistance-movement has been a thorn in the side of the Republican regime since the singing first began.  They tried to squelch us last December with a ridiculous, unconstitutional re-interpretation of Capitol permitting rules, flying in the face of the Rotunda's rich history of being a public square, intentionally designed with acoustics suitable for free political expression.  We showed up by the hundreds in December, daring them to arrest us all -- and, in large part due to the thoughtful leadership of the previous Capitol police chief, no arrests were made and the Sing Along continued.

Now, however, the arrests have begun.  Chief David Erwin, a former Scott Walker bodyguard, has led the Capitol Police in an anti-singer campaign.  The arrests and citations have targeted the people who attend the Sing Along most frequently.  While Erwin gives interviews complaining about disruptive protesters who go around "terrorizing" tourists and Capitol staff, the arrests are for holding signs.  Or banners (like the one held by JoyMama the rabble-rouser in the red coat below).  Or for attending an unpermitted event, or for sections of the Administrative Code that have never been interpreted in this way before. Despite repeated requests for clarification, the Capitol Police are declining to specify what activities might be deemed citation-worthy on any particular day.  They've taken to showing up at people's homes and workplaces to deliver citations, without having approached the individuals at the Capitol at the time of the supposed infraction.  It's intimidation, and they're pairing it with a cynical propaganda campaign that Rebecca Kemble wrote about compellingly in The Progressive the other week: The Two-Pronged Assault on Dissent in Wisconsin's Capitol.

The citizen-lobbyists of the Solidarity Sing Along believe that our permit to lift our voices in musical dissent is contained in the following words of Wisconsin's Constitution (Article 1, Section 4):

The right of the people peaceably to assemble, to consult for the common good, and to petition the government, or any department thereof, shall never be abridged.

"What part of SHALL NEVER BE ABRIDGED don't you understand?"

And if we poke a little bit of fun at Chief Erwin with masks and signs, that too is free speech, a bit of political theatre to bring home our message.  We gather and sing in peace, but we are determined.  We intend to keep singing until Wisconsin is back on the right track.  Even then, we will continue to be involved on a new level.

There's too much at stake -- and my Joy, who delights in rhythm and song, is at the heart of the future I'm fighting for.

See you at the Capitol.