Tuesday, May 27, 2008


I sat at this same spot yesterday and just couldn't even type a word. The combination of a poor sleep, low blood sugar and a three hour time zone change had me operating just slightly above concious for pretty much the whole day. I was able to call work, make a whack of phone calls for work, and I was really good at sitting and staring.

Last evening Joe wanted to watch a DVD of a WW2 documentary and I agreed but I saw little, instead just drifting in and out of sleep while armies did battle and commentors made comment. Joe managed to just let me be though I could feel his eyes wander over to me to see if I was catching 'the good parts'.

This morning is a wee bit better, I slept well and I'm now ready for the next trip. We're heading to Nashville for the Megaconference there. I've not been to Nashville for a very long time and amd looking forward to being back.

The last time we were there we made our way downtown to what used to be the Grand Ol Opry and took a tour of the building. We were there with a family who had a boy with cerebral palsy that they carried through the building. When we were on the stage he busted into some country song and everyone stopped. His voice carried right to the back of the hall, his phrasing could have been a lot better but he got the tune right.

Everyone stopped and listened to him sing. The tour guide, annoyed, was trying to get us all to move along, but an elderly woman who I don't think was part of the boys family, took hold to the guides arm and said, "Stop, that's someone's dream we're hearing." The guard fought back a remark but stopped. For a few minutes we just listened to him sing.

Both parents had wet faces as he finished, so did most of the rest of us. Not the kid though. He grinned huge.

I'm hoping that I remember that kid when I begin my lecture there, and I want someone listening to realize that, deep inbedded in my lectures, it's my dream they're hearing.


In Support of Alex Barton said...


Just wanted to make sure you knew about the latest item making the rounds through the blogs: A teacher recently led her class of 5-year-old kindergarteners in voting a 5-year-old classmate out of class.

She made the classmates tell him what they didn't like about him (apparently they find him "annoying" and "disgusting") and then vote on whether he should remain in the class. They voted 14 to 2 against him. I wonder who the two courageous souls were who stood up against the rest. They should be applauded.

Since then, Alex's Mom reports Alex has been saying over and over, "I'm not special." He hasn't been in school since, but when his Mom takes him by the school building to drop off or pick up his sister, he screams.

I first learned about it via Amanda Bagg's excellent post at http://ballastexistenz.autistics.org/?p=538

Plug his name in the search engine at news.google.com for news stories on Alex Barton for the factual details.

You can find many more blog posts on the Alex Barton situation at http://lastcrazyhorn.wordpress.com/2008/05/25/the-golden-rule/

People who want to write to the school in support of this 5 year old boy can find the relevant contact information at http://aspergersquare8.blogspot.com/2008/05/not-special-support-alex-barton.html (remember to keep your letters POLITE--abusive mail won't help the cause).

Want to send a card to Alex Barton himself to let him know that, yes, he's still "special"? Instructions at http://www.mommylife.net/archives/2008/05/alex_is_special.html

Shan said...

Thanks for the reference in your last post, Dave.

"in support of", I emailed the Grade Chair at Morningside School.

I like your story, Dave...what a great experience for that boy. I'm so glad that lady spoke up.

Jana B said...

Awwwwww... that was so awesome...

I'm grateful for the lady who realized stopped the guard... everyone deserves a moment to experience their dream. Who knows... maybe that little boy will remember that moment every time he goes to speech therapy, and be back there to sing again one day!!!

P.S., on a totally unrelated line of thought, you remind me of my dad. :o)