Akib Qadir from Birmingham has been getting involved
with what's happening in his home city. Over the past few months he has met
with Birmingham's autism lead and has been writing a report on his personal
experiences of diagnosis and trying to access support Tuesday, 13 November 2012
Great work by AAN Ambassador Akib in Birmingham
Akib Qadir from Birmingham has been getting involved
with what's happening in his home city. Over the past few months he has met
with Birmingham's autism lead and has been writing a report on his personal
experiences of diagnosis and trying to access support Monday, 15 October 2012
Scottish trade union support better employment opportunities for people with autism
Robert also informed Terry of the on-going campaign being run by the NAS entitled The Undiscovered Workforce and I hope that the STUC can play a role within that campaign. Before the meeting ended Terry stated that there was an STUC Disabled Workers Committee which also held an annual conference and he recommended that this was perhaps another channel that both Robert and myself could explore further.
Wednesday, 29 August 2012
A day in the life of an APPO: Adventures in campaigning
North-based Area Policy and Participation Officer (APPO), Eleanor Thompson, shares a typical day in this new role. APPOs are the policy and campaigns team’s representatives based in each of the National Autistic Society’s areas in England – the South West, South East, Central and North. It’s their job to empower local people with autism to campaign, to support branches with policy and campaigns work and to enable all the rest of the NAS to feed back to the central team about the situation for people with autism and their families in local areas. We now have APPOs around the country - to find out who yours is get in touch with us at campaign@nas.org.uk.
I’m up nice and early today as I have a meeting in Cumbria at lunchtime. My patch is really quite large (from Yorkshire across the country and right up to the Scottish boarder) so my days can involve some quite long train journeys!
After panicking, as ever, that I’m going to be late, I arrive at the station half an hour early, buy my tickets and settle down on the platform. I’ve brought plenty of things to keep me occupied so once I get on the train I start contacting some of the ambassadors I’ve been working with. Ambassadors are members of the Autism Action Network who have signed up to be advocates on behalf of the charity and to carry out a certain number of press, campaigns, or policy actions across the year. In return, we provide them with support for their projects when it’s needed. Work with ambassadors can be really varied. Some ambassadors have local projects or individual campaigns they are working on, while others are taking on the challenge of joining in with our national campaigns in their local area. Today I interview an ambassador for the blog about why she wants to get involved with the Undiscovered Workforce campaign. We’re always trying to think of new ways to encourage more people to take actions, and we really like to celebrate the achievements of our campaigners and media spokespeople. Do feel free to get in touch if you want to be featured on the blog.
Later, I turn to the results of a survey we’ve been running in conjunction with the Cheshire West and Chester branch. This survey is designed to feed back to the Local Authority on the experience of people with autism and their families living in Cheshire West and Chester. We got 111 responses to the survey, we were featured in a number of local newspapers, and even on the local radio. Now it’s up to me to pull the results into a sensible document, and then I will pass it onto the branch officer and we’ll talk about the next steps for the campaign and how we are going to present our findings to the Local Authority.
After a journey through incredibly beautiful countryside I arrive in Penrith where I meet up with Sara from the National Autistic Society’s North Area Development Team. We head over to the meeting together. It’s held in a café in this amazing community resource they have in Penrith called The Rheged Centre, which is apparently Europe’s largest grass covered building. Sara and I are hoping to work with Family Support workers in Cumbria to establish a local network specifically for campaigning. Because of the geography of the area, it can be hard for people with autism and their families to get together, and they often find it difficult to know how to input into the decisions that are being made by the Local Authority regarding services and support for people on the spectrum. I’ve drafted up some plans for how the network could work, and present it to the Cumbria Family Support Workers. They seem positive, so all that’s left now is for us to organise a venue and invite the attendees. If you’re Cumbria-based and want to find out more, do get in touch with me at eleanor.thompson@nas.org.uk.
Next I head over to Sunderland, to meet up with Charlie who runs a social group for local people with autism. She’s interested in getting some campaigning going with the group and today’s their annual summer barbeque so I’m going to go and meet them and see whether they have anything they want to campaign about. This is part of a wider move within the National Autistic Society to make sure that people using our services have access to campaigning, both nationally and in their local area. Chatting with the group members, it seems there are lots of issues that concern them, including employment, and while not everyone is interested in campaigning, there is a number of people who want to get involved. I make plans to come back to their next meeting and work with them on an action plan.
I hope this article has given you some idea of what we do as an APPO – as you can tell, it’s pretty varied and no two days are the same. If you have a local campaigning idea contact campaign@nas.org.uk who can put you in touch with the right person.
Wednesday, 22 August 2012
Hard work behind the scenes
I am also helping Scott James (X Factor 2009) to raise £3000 to journey to Canada for an international autism festival where he has been nominated for the Performing Arts award.
Unfortunately my charity bike ride (Marco's Big Ride) has had to be postponed because I have tendonitis in my knees and until they heal sufficiently I am unable to train for the ride.
In September I will also be attending NAS head office for a meeting regarding the Adult Autism Strategy which I am looking forward to.
I have also set up an online radio show called Sounds from the Spectrum which showcases and celebrates talented artists who are on the spectrum like Scott James, Georgette Hilton, Carly Ryan, Martin Finn and many more. More information about this can be found on Facebook at
By Marco G
Thursday, 9 August 2012
Autism and Las Vegas Don’t Mix
We have three children, very typical in all ways to children of their age but with some particular characteristics.
Our 13 year old son is diagnosed with Aspergers and manages daily life very well, his high anxiety having disappeared since starting a very structured and organised school. Our 8 year old, the happiest of children, just needs some gentle reminding to not still run across roads and to ‘stop, think, move around the object you’re just about to fall over and then go, go go’!
But it’s our 9 year old daughter that has the greatest difficulties. She has a developmental profile that is difficult to neatly shoehorn into a definitive diagnosis. She is described as having tactile defensiveness, sensory processing difficulties, perfectionism, obsessionality, extreme reactions, distractibility and a sense of social frustration. We’re told her behaviours and emotional responses fall within the range for oppositional behaviour, inattention and on the overall Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder index but she’s too perfectionist to be considered for an inattentive ADHD condition and that while her rigid patterns of behaviour and sensory processing difficulties could be considered traits of an autistic spectrum condition she does not fulfil the criteria for Asperger Syndrome.
Going anywhere together as a family of five is never, ever easy or relaxing. So I was somewhat open mouthed and disbelieving when my husband suggested we should take the children on a 17 day road trip around the hottest parts of the USA in one car, together, and mostly share the same motel room. He thought it would be a fantastic experience before our son disappears into the teenage angst of being seen out with his parents and so I agreed with a large amount of trepidation and with the insane belief it would all be ok because it was a ‘holiday’ and families are meant to have fun and relax and love being with each other on ‘holiday’.
Driving around Utah, Colorado and Arizona was indeed a once in a life time chance to see some of the most beautiful places on earth and it was full on and fun but it was not relaxing and although we all love each other to a degree no one could ever understand or dream of, sadly we don’t like being together as a family as it’s so rare that we genuinely get a moment to relax and enjoy each other and it’s heartbreaking to admit it.
Here are the pitfalls and tips we bizarrely hadn’t considered before we left hoping we could - for one time only – be like The Waltons. But then what family goes on holiday and doesn’t come back needing therapy.
Pitfalls – What Didn’t Work
1. The accommodation. It’s really hard to find accommodation for more than 4 people and we often had to share a large motel room with two double beds and a pull out. We should have anticipated the obvious problem with this but didn’t think it through and got upset with ourselves wondering why our expectation of being able to bunk down together didn’t work. Our daughter with sensory processing problems announced on day one that she would not under any circumstances be able to share a bed with her sister or even us ‘as you’ll all crease the sheets’ and then all the other things she couldn’t do such as share the few remaining clean t-shirts with her sister (having touched someone else in the past), allow anyone to put anything down or near the bed she wanted to occupy or touch anything she may have placed in the often cabin fever small motel room. On the few nights we had adjoining rooms my husband and I were often joined by the other children at different points in the night who couldn’t stand the ‘order regime’ imposed on them by their sister.
2. Eating out. Going to restaurants particularly for breakfast is what I consider being on holiday, only when having a good cup of coffee can I relax and face the day. On day one our daughter had a shut down in the first place we tried eat in and it went down hill from there. Nothing was ‘right’ in any restaurant we entered over a 17 day period as our daughter finds it almost impossible to feel comfortable in new places with the mix of people, sounds and smells and before her senses have time to adjust she panics and thinks she can’t cope, runs out, melts down or shuts down (head on table, goes rigid). Hungry, tired and beginning to realise we weren’t going to get any kind of food that didn’t exist outside of a drive thru we weren’t coping either. I don’t think over the entire holiday we actually made it to the end of a meal together as one of us had to take one or two children and leave before the end. 3. Going to any kind of new or busy venues. For some reason, the stupidity of it still surprises me, we decided to go into Las Vegas on not one but two evenings as it was our final stopover before flying home. I can’t quite understand the fascination with a place so devoid of charm but felt we should at least see it. The first night was not a pleasant experience for our daughter but we got away with it, the second night was a disaster. Having taken a taxi to ‘The Strip’ the sheer unbearable bombardment of noise, lights, people and endless stimulation made her feel sick and faint, she sat on the floor with her head covered and the evening was over as I carried her to find a taxi to go straight back to the hotel. We spent most of the end of the holiday going separately to different places depending on what the children could process.
4. Autistic meltdowns and nose bleeds. Sadly but not unsurprisingly our daughter had a number of meltdowns from the stress of trying to keep it all together with all these new experiences. Probably due to the heat, dry air and attitude she had a number of particularly scary nose bleeds. She’s always been susceptible to them but the pressure she puts herself under with the sheer expulsion of emotion was truly horrifying. Apart from ensuring she’s not in physical damager there is very little we can seem to do to help her ‘come back’ or ‘come down’ but not being on home territory and with people listening in the rooms next door, put a huge amount of stress on us all. At one point she had such a violent nose bleed that the blood covered most of a bathroom including a pile of white towels on which she had passed out/fallen asleep on the bathroom floor from sheer exhaustion. We had waited for her to fall asleep as would not have been able to hold her if awake for aggravating her skin further, before carrying her into our bed while I stayed awake to ensure she didn’t bleed again in the night. We then carry on as normal until the next incident.
Tips - What Worked
1. Our son with Aspergers took enough books to read one a day and his music to zone out everywhere he went. We’ve stopped aiming for ‘manners’ and let him read/listen to music if we could eat out and were amazed he would sit for periods of time in the few places we could get our daughter to sit in because he only eats ‘his food’ not everyone else’s kind of food but thankfully the diet coke was endless and everywhere served the only thing he would eat - plain bread or thin cut French Fries. We snuck in a carrot and celery having made detours to find supermarkets that sell the few ingredients he will eat and he was happy ignoring everyone in his own world. He’s a very goal orientated child who decided on ‘a mission’ at the start of the trip, to collect book marks of every town we stayed at and this fine balance of being free to zone out, motels with swimming pools, diet coke, dry bread and book marks kept him happy.
2. A really large car. We managed to space the children out physically so nothing was touching them to set them off.
3. Individual DS players so the three children could ‘zone out’ in the car in their own worlds. Seems obvious but my husband commented ‘why is it that it’s like they’ve had Valium when we’re in the car and the moment we open the doors its meltdown’.
4. ‘Adventure Time’. This brilliant children’s cartoon was on every half hour and was a great distraction and diffusion.
5. On the upside our daughter started to talk about ‘my autistic behaviour’ for the first time. She made some suggestions of what might work for her in being able to go into a restaurant and after a number of stressful trials and errors (at one point me husband had to leave and sit in the car as was so stressed by it all) we came up with a plan whereby our daughter and her dad would enter the café first and take their seats (at a table without any chair behind it so not as to touch our daughter’s chair). The rest of us were then to take seats facing and adjoining her. This often resulted in two or more moves within any venue, sometimes not even bothering to consult any more with staff for the sheer exhaustion of it all and after a glass of wine we were able to ignore the people now watching the entertaining Brits moving around the restaurant.
For all the difficulties holidays like this are wonderful. Seeing our children pick wild raspberries for the chipmunks, play hide and seek in million year old Canyons and roast marshmallows on an open pit fire in Colorado and then fall asleep under the stars was truly amazing. The tough bits were trying to find some space in any 24 hours to spend with your partner and not having to split up as a family in the day or night because one or other child can’t go out for food or can’t share a bed because it just took an hour for her to iron out the creases or take an hour to organise their travel bag so you can’t go to the pool as have to wait for perfection to be completed by which time your husband has taken the other children on a trip somewhere else. It’s a family holiday but one that involves most members having to do things separately. Maybe that’s not such a bad thing but when you’ve been desperate for the company of ‘family’- of some quality time with your husband and just some chilled out time with your children it can be a really lonely experience being together but not sharing each other’s worlds.
Paula Donovan
Tuesday, 7 August 2012
Robyn's review of 'The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time' at The National Theatre
The Olympic Games and Paralympic Games are not the only exciting things happening in the capital this summer. The London 2012 Festival is also taking place and it features a new production of Mark Haddon’s 2003 novel 'The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time'.
Adapted into a play by writer Simon Stephens, the show opened last Thursday at the National Theatre in London, and I was given the chance to see it before its official opening.
Luke Treadway, who you may have seen in the film Attack the Block, plays the lead role of Christopher, a 15-year-old boy who probably has Asperger syndrome. Interestingly, the cast do not just play actual people - they also take on roles such as a talking ATM (automatic teller machine) and items under a bed.
The play is staged in the Cottesloe Theatre, the smallest of the National Theatre’s three spaces. The stage is square with seats arranged around and above all 4 sides, and because it’s so small, wherever you’re sitting you’re very likely to have an excellent view.
The flooring of the stage is very dynamic - I have never seen anything like it! Christopher stands on it, draws on it, has guiding lights appear on it and at one point he even gets under it. It looks amazing and beautiful.
The portrayal of autism in the play is interesting. As many readers of this blog will be very aware, autism can effect sensory perception - particularly if someone is under stress. For people outside the autism world, this is a probably one of the lesser understood and perhaps less obvious effects autism can have on an individual. However, I think the way that the play depicts this experience is ingenious. I could really understand how Christopher was feeling, and I was absolutely delighted to see such a fantastic production – it is funny, clever and poignant.
When Curious (as the National Theatre has styled it – i.e. a shorter version of The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time) was first published it was criticised for the way Christopher is portrayed. Some people felt that no single person would have all the traits of autism that Christopher does. Mark Haddon even expressed regret that a mention of Asperger syndrome was printed on the front cover of the book.
To me, this is an interesting discussion, because if you listen carefully to the autism community, while some people say they can’t relate to Christopher, there are plenty of people who say they can, and that they understand him.
As we know, everyone is different and autism affects each individual differently, so I don’t think you can’t say that one person has too many or too few traits. (I imagine this is the same way that neurotypical (non-autistic) people feel about the way they are portrayed in books! They don’t all relate to Wallander, Sherlock Holmes, and Scrooge!)
It’s also important to understand that “traits” can be displayed (present) in many different ways. For example, Christopher hits people when they touch him. This could be because he is hypersensitive to touch and is not able to predict people’s actions (social imagination). Many people who have autism would never hit anyone. Also, since we are different, many of us don’t mind firm touches but we don’t like tickle (gentle) touches.
I don’t think it is bad to have a character who has lots of traits of being on the spectrum, as long as they are portrayed properly and the writer takes responsibility for this. I feel Mark Haddon and the director Marianne Elliot do take responsibly. In fact, it was because Marianne wanted to research autism that I had the opportunity to meet her and Katy Rudd (staff director) to discuss the play and autism. They were very willing to take on board my feedback.
You have to know quite a bit about autism and to have met lots of people on the spectrum to really be able to see how one individual fits into the diagnostic criteria. Nevertheless, as with any work of fiction, it’s important to remember that it is just made up, and as a consequence you cannot always expect people to behave in exactly the way we anticipate.
I think this play provides hope to people, not just through Christopher’s story and the journey he goes through, but also because the play is on at the National Theatre. Other books such as the History Boys (by Alan Bennett) started at the National and have gone on to tour the UK and be made into films, so who knows what will happen next? Nobody knows - we must wait and see!
I’m aware that many of you who live out of London will be reading this and thinking that you wish the production was on closer to you. Well there is good news: on 6 September the play will be beamed via satellite (I presume) to cinemas across the UK. Check out www.ntlive.com to see where it will be on.
There is also a “relaxed performance” on 13 October for anyone on the spectrum or who would be more comfortable in this environment. I think this might be like an autism friendly screening at the cinema but at a theatre.
By the way if any of you are fans of trains there are at least 3 different types in the play.
Monday, 6 August 2012
Raising awareness of autism, one story at a time
Ever wanted to tell the world about your experiences with autism? AAN Ambassador Helen Kelly explains why she started her blog, mumwithoutportfolio, and what she hopes to achieve through sharing her family's story:
I started writing my blog mumwithoutportfolio in July 2011, two months after my youngest daughter Emily was diagnosed as being on the Autistic Spectrum. There were a number of reasons why I decided to write this originally it was because I felt very alone and left to understand what it all meant for my daughter and our family but I also wanted to raise awareness about Autism and what it is like trying to see the light through the tunnel. I was very surprised by peoples reaction to my daughters diagnosis which ranged from well she doesn’t look like she’s autistic to she’s not autistic she just needs to learn. It was the drive to try and change people’s opinion of children on the Autistic Spectrum that spurred me on to write my blog because I am very much of the opinion that education brings awareness.
Topics I have covered throughout my blog posts have included shopping, school, friends and the death of my dad due to lung cancer. Although the posts haven’t always been upbeat they are always a true reflection of life and honest.
I have help pages on my blog which provide a bit of information and also directs people to the NAS website this is because I would not like to give anyone the wrong information as I am not an expert in Autism but I am an expert in how autism affects my daughter and my family.
I have received comments from people who I don’t know supporting me and have recently set up a Facebook page for the blog. I also tweet my blog page under the hash tag Autism awareness and I have met many people through this.
I would encourage other ambassadors to plunge into writing a blog, it’s free you can do it when you want to and most importantly you get to raise awareness and educate people.
Tuesday, 31 July 2012
NAS campaigners help create more opportunities and support for people with autism to find sustainable work
Maz's 1,000 mile mission to make football accessible for children with autism
Maz embarked on his 1,000 mile mission to raise awareness of the difficulties that children with autism can face getting involved in grassroots football. He was inspired by his eight-year-old son Jake who has Asperger syndrome, and loves football.
Joined by friends Ed Jones (34), Dave Leeks (34), and Chris Patson (38), Maz kicked off his sporting challenge at 8am on Friday morning at Loftus Road, home of QPR FC. After visiting three other London clubs, the team headed over to Swansea before racing off to the Midlands and the North East, ending the first day of the tour at St James’ Park in Newcastle.
An early start on Saturday saw a visit to clubs in the North West, including visits to Old Trafford and Anfield. Throughout the tour, clubs donated items that Maz will auction off later this year for the NAS. Items that will be up for auction include a Manchester United shirt signed by
Maz and his friends smashed their target by three hours, ending their tour at Tottenham Hotspur’s ground White Hart Lane, where they had a well-deserved VIP tour of the stadium.
Thursday, 26 July 2012
Undiscovered Workforce campaign gathers pace
Ralph on the SEARCH for employment
Monday, 23 July 2012
Getting People to Listen
A social worker contacted me to arrange my review of my support. I asked her after it was clear she knew nothing about autism if she had been trained in the Autism Act 2009. As she hadn’t, I explained it was law, and the following week I met her face to face and I asked her if she had read up on it, explaining that it is an act and therefore law.
I explained that you can’t represent someone at the panel (a meeting to decide how support funds are allocated) if you don’t understand autism because it means you can’t understand my needs. I then submitted a complaint.
The purchasing manager then e-mailed the head of training and copy and pasted from the statutory guidelines the duty that the NHS LA and foundation trusts have for training. Here it is:-
The result of my complaint is that social workers have now signed up for the training available in the borough and after this email from the purchasing manager hopefully more training will be provided.
By Robyn S
Monday, 16 July 2012
"Being good at SEN must be seen as part of what makes an excellent school, not just an optional extra" says NAS Ambassador Andrew
As one of the most significant reforms to SEN in the past 25 years, the proposals have understandably raised concerns among families living with SEN. Many have questioned whether personal budgets are suitable as a means of providing support to children with special needs, and how this will fit with the existing system. As well as this, many thought that the single assessment might lead to a lack of proper assistance for those who did not meet the criteria. Finally, there are concerns about how the plan for a single assessment and personal budget will fit together with the government’s plans to give more autonomy to academies and free schools.
The Labour Party policy review hoped to do two things, firstly, to help provide the Labour Party with a response to the Green Paper. Debate is critical in any democracy, and we hoped that through conducting a review with the input of experts in the education and disability sectors, as well as the parents and carers of disabled people (and some disabled people themselves), we could provide a robust contribution to the public discussion on SEN. The second aim was to form the basis for the Labour Party’s manifesto for the next General election, meaning that ultimately what we decided, in consultation with others, could become policy and improve the lives of thousands of children with SEN.
My role was to provide some input into the review from the perspective of someone with Asperger syndrome who has been through mainstream education. I can’t claim to speak for the experiences of all people with autism, but my own life experience is something which I tried to bring to bear in my role as a panel member. I felt relatively inexperienced as 22 year old asking questions to people who’ve spent the best part of their professional lives helping disabled children, along with those families who deal with it every day of their lives, but I hope I've done something positive for those with SEN.
There were four sessions of the policy review: an outline of the Green Paper, teacher training and specialist professionals, identification and provision, and accountability and local authorities. Among the many contributors, there seemed to be a general consensus. All schools should have teachers who are trained to identify and support those with an SEN, and this must form a much greater part of teacher training than it does currently.
Being good at SEN must be seen as part of what makes an excellent school, not just an optional extra. Parents should have a legal right to have their children’s needs (as identified in the single assessment) met. Finally, local authorities should be examined to make sure they are meeting the needs of children with SEN, with sanctions for those who are not.
I was able to have the opportunity to participate in the policy review through the help of the NAS. Having worked with them before, I was keen to sign up as an Autism Ambassador to continue working with them to promote the rights of autistic people and their families to live a life free from discrimination and to have the best possible opportunities to things which many people take for granted.
By Andrew Rhodes
Wednesday, 11 July 2012
Autism Summit in West Sussex discusses upcoming SEN reforms
Hello everyone, just thought I'd give a quick update in how things went at the Autism Summit last week...after considerable pre-match nerves from me, I'm really happy to say that the event went extremely well, I even managed to get my little speech out, David Cameron style (technique not content!), in full and to a room of confidence boosting nodding heads. A decent number of people showed up and I was impressed by the representation from West Sussex County Council and the NHS.
Nick Herbert, my MP, was a genuinely committed and interested Chair and I got a real sense that this was something which he has taken very much to heart. I was first up and that gave me the opportunity to set out some of the main issues raised by the Green Paper, which I think our local agencies could develop to create a better picture for the provision of local services for people whose lives are affected by autism.
I raised the need for a single, comprehensive directory of local autism specific services, something that could easily become part of the local offer, the need for autism specific training across the board - to include not just school, teaching staff and SENCO's, but health visitors, social workers, child minders, LA staff - to become mandatory, and a recommendation that local services must be available to all children and young people with a diagnosis and not just those with statements or EHCP's.
One of my big concerns is that, as the new single assessment tool is developed, it will start to operate in a way which means that children on the 'high functioning' end of the spectrum will fall outside it's criteria. There is evidence from the Pathfinder Group here in Mid Sussex which shows that this is already happening and I am very concerned that these children will in the future fall outside the systems which exit to give them the vital support and intervention they need. The Government is clear that it wants to reduce the numbers of children with SEN and this ideological goal appears, for the moment at least, to be finding it's practical application in the new single assessment for an EHCP.
I was also very keen to stress that families must be a key part of any development of new strategies and local services. Summits like this one are great, but the views of children and young people and their families need to be heard regularly, and actually then used to shape policy going forward. It was encouraging therefore to hear how Katie Glover, (Principal Commissioning Manager Learning Difficulties WSCC) is developing the West Sussex Autism Strategy in very close partnership with local families - she remarked that the (at best, unimaginatively, named) 'Vulnerable Adult Group', which attempts to draw together services and support for adults, families, careers, would not exist had it not been for the input of local families.
It remains unclear whether something like this will happen for children, the local offer seems a good opportunity to do so and John Philpot (Principal Manager, Special Needs & Disability, Children’s Services WSCC) certainly seemed very keen to foster closer family/council connections. This is definitely something I will be following up. This also clearly leaves the possibility of a join up between child and adult services hanging in the balance...'Vulnerable Child and Adult Group' anybody?....
We heard a lot from the various council agencies about what work they are doing now or plan for the future and as the session went on, the sheer vastness and disjointedness of this patchwork of disparate agencies purporting to provide 'autism' services became for me the real stand out issue. One mother who gave frankly, harrowing testimony of her struggle to find support for her 15 year old son, stood up at one point and said, "all these services, all this support...I had no idea it was there". Clearly work needs to be done to create a joined up 'directory of services' or 'portal', which not just well informed and autism specific, but accessible and well signposted.
I'm going to let the dust settle for a couple of weeks - I think local agencies always expect to get a bit of a hammering (and they did in part!) and I'm much more of a carrot than stick kind of a person - and then get back on to the council.
The summit also heard from Richard Brown of Autism Sussex - a local charity making direct, grass roots interventions - who suggested an autism partnership board, comprising families and the council. I think this is a good strategy, and I intend to chat with him about how we can progress his idea. I want to be positive and practical, little by little I think we have a real chance to make positive change.
At the summit we started a relationship and I hope it will be productive. Here's a link to some local press coverage and a nice little pic of Nick and his 'autism' parents:- http://www.spiritfm.net/news/sussex-news/710738/parents-call-for-better-autism-care-in-west-sussex/
By Victoria T
Thursday, 14 June 2012
Sky News bullying feature
It's a fantastic piece, and Deb and Charlie were brilliant, I'm sure you'll agree!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I24nGNYH2dQ&feature=player_embedded
Wednesday, 23 May 2012
Ambassador media stars!
Monday, 21 May 2012
Ambassadors help us celebrate 50th Birthday
You can now read the full report, ‘The Way We Are: Autism in 2012’, online.
Tuesday, 8 May 2012
Tessa and Nick raise autism awareness... with Sally the dog!
Sally has really helped Nick to get out and about and to socialise with other people. It's a great story - watch their news feature, here.
Sunday, 29 April 2012
Nigel raises awareness through his Marathon effort
The night before I only managed 3 hours sleep, excited and also nervous of what lay ahead. Having been up since 4:45 at my hotel in London docklands I made final preparations for the day and headed down the the hotel restaurant for breakfast. The breakfast available was fantastic everything you could think of, so tempted to get a cooked breakfast but porridge and small amount of scrambled egg was Ll I had.
The biggest test of the day so far was trying to get to the start line in Greenwich Park. I headed for the nearest tube station and my plan was to follow other fellow runners but when I arrived at the station it was deserted.
Soon a train arrived and I jumped on, nobody in sight except one gentleman who I asked for directions. He explained where I needed to go to change trains and platform number, and the kind gentleman even showed me to the platform I needed, thank you to that gentleman.
Arriving at Greenwich around two hours before the start I had a wonder around the start. Grabbing free water and locazade I parked myself under a tree and listened to some music and tried to relax.
Watching some of the strange sights arriving included, a man with a tiger on his back, cool runnings bobsleigh team complete with bobsleigh.
With 9:45 fast approaching I handed my bag in and lined up at the start, mine being red zone 4.
9:45 and I'm off hitting the London streets and 26.2 miles to go. The first few miles came and went very quickly support for everyone from the crowd was fantastic, and so many different sites along the route, bands, dancers etc.
Reaching the half way point and my time was 2:04 which I was more than happy with. Now in the heart of the docklands and passing the 14 mile mark and seeing the elite runners passing me on the opposite side hitting their 21 mile mark, I was wishing I was at that point.
Legs starting to hurt and coming up to a gel station I was greatful for the extra boost. Crowds were massive and the idea of having my name on the front of my vest was an excellent idea, the boost I got from the crowd shouting my name was just what I needed.
Getting to the 21 mile mark and the sight of the National Autistic Society cheering point was fantastic, the cheer and calls of my name kept me going for the final 5 miles.
At this point I was slowing down my time was slowing and at 25 mile mark my time was 4:18, one more mile need to keep going that's all I could think, turning into Birdcage walk the welcome sign of 800m to go Buckingham Palace in the background turning left onto the mall it was there just a few 100m to go the crowd knowing I was hurting shouting my name, policemen and women, the armed forces people and the marshalls shouting come on your there keep going was nothing I had experienced before 4:34 and I was done its over I have completed the Virgin London Marathon 2012.
For the next few minutes everything was just a blur a was ushered into a line of other runners and timing chip was removed and medal presented.
Collecting my bag getting a well deserved drink and pictures taken, I headed for the NAS meeting point. Greeted by NAS volunteers who kindly carried my bags and escorted me the short walk through Horse guards parade and to the NAS hotel.
The welcome I received was fantastic everybody cheering when I walked through the doors. I gratefully accepted the offer of a shower and massage just what I needed.
So time to head back to my hotel and have a well deserved beer!!
I would like to take this opportunity to thank everyone who has supported me and sponsored for the London marathon. A massive thank you to The National Autistic Society for giving me the opportunity to complete one of my lifetime goals and for the fantastic support they gave me on the day.
Another big thank you has to go to the crowds in London you were fantastic and helped me get through the day, you are a credit to Britain!
My page: http://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/NigelSmalley
Friday, 27 April 2012
Grace Under Pressure: Sophie's Marathon story
The night before the race I travelled to my sister-in-law's flat, a tiny fairytale garret at the top of an old Victorian house, that looked out over south London and the start line, fifteen minutes' journey away. All that day I had been distracted and quick-tempered, pretending to be a participant in Saturday family time while ticking off the hours in my head before it was time to leave. When I could finally go and pack it was a relief, even though, checking and folding my clothes, I felt more as though I was preparing for the executioner's block than the winner's podium. It took an age to pin my running number onto my vest -- my hands were shaking so badly that I fumbled the safety pins and pricked my fingers repeatedly. When I came downstairs to say goodbye to everyone the children stood awkwardly in the doorway, half-turned to run away and play again, half-aware that something was expected from them in this moment. A good luck card was produced. I hugged and kissed them all and bent to pick up my kit bag and then Grace was in my arms again. Voice muffled in my chest, she said: "Do this for me, mummy." I held her out from me to look at her face, ready to say something light-hearted and reassuring when, solemnly, she raised three fingers to her lips and held her hand out in salute to me, mimicking the gesture of love and respect used by her new heroine from the Hunger Games. It was so Grace: dramatic and funny and sweet, and heart-breaking.
That night I slept badly, tossing and turning for hours on the edge of nervous dreams that threatened to throw me into wakefulness. I rose at six, ate porridge and brushed my hair looking in the mirror at my terrified face and listening to the radio, which seemed to be playing in another country -- who were these people who could laugh and joke and comment on the lovely weather, preparing for a relaxed day of newspapers and walks and roast dinner? Outside the sky was clear and I walked down the hill towards the train station alone and in silence, avoiding Saturday-night piles of sick and litter. At a bus stop a woman lit up a cigarette. Then I turned the corner and there were loose knots of people with red race-day kit bags, waiting for the next train. Among them was a friend and fellow runner for the National Autistic Society. The tightness in my stomach loosened.
I don't remember very much about the start, except the mass of people around me and in front of me and behind me and the calming voice of my friend, who had done it before, and kept me distracted with stories. Helicopters buzzed overhead and cameras turned on us and a voice on a tannoy urged us to repeated cheers and whoops as we waitedly awkwardly, nervously, for the countdown to the start. Then there was a walk, a shuffle, people bouncing on their toes, discarding jumpers and waving goodbye to friends and somehow I'd got to the start line, a huge arch bright red against the blue sky and the pliant mesh of the timing board spongy beneath my shoes, activating the chip tied into my laces, and I was running.
Almost immediately the crowd was there, still modest at this point, strung out like beads along the barrier, sending us good luck and smiles as we set off. We passed an elegant Georgian home in the garden of which two young people on brass instruments puffed out a slightly melancholy version of the Rocky theme tune. I found myself pacing behind a purple Teletubby and in the time it took to puzzle his name -- what was it again, was he Po or Tinkywinky? -- I realised the first mile was done and I was running the marathon and bobbing along in the centre of a crowd all streaming forward in glorious colour and purpose. For the next few miles we passed several churches which had opened their doors to bless us and cheer us. In front of one, a vicar swung holy water, sending droplets arcing out over the shifting mass, and we raised our hands back, a communal thank you of hundreds. Then there was a choir and a band, and then another band, and then a string of pubs all open, with people dancing on wooden tables outside and waving at us.
So the miles passed. We came to our first incline and as one we all bent, and suffered just a very little bit, and turned to smile with relief at each other as we came over the brow. I found my pace with ease, checking my watch now and again to make sure I wasn't going too fast, or too slow, and finding every time I checked that my body was now automatically doing what I had trained it to do all those months and was carrying me forward with ease. A bit of me floated away and just watched the carnival around me as I progressed. Then the route turned right, and we all turned right and suddenly in front of us was Tower Bridge and I'd run twelve and a half miles and was passing under the grey turrets and the crowd was going crazy. Down along the highway the crowds were deeper and deeper -- three or four back from the barriers and screaming and shouting. It was a huge effort not to speed up, for I was loving every moment, grinning like a loony, knowing that my family were going to appear at any moment at mile fourteen, where the National Autistic Society had organised a cheering point. I ran with my neck craned, seeking out the purple and white and red balloons and banners and feeling goose bumps running up along the back of my neck in anticipation. And then there they were -- only on the other side of the barrier where I couldn't touch them -- so I yelled and jumped up and down, pumping my arms in victory and blowing kisses and the roar that went up was for me, for me and for Grace and for us all and as I ran away from them all I was overcome and saw the route ahead of me blurred for a while.
When I came to again it was mile fifteen and something wasn't right. Before I had time to realise what was bothering me I felt a hand on my shoulder, the runner behind me directing me to a voice in the crowd to my left. It was my friend and former running partner Karen, who had started with me nearly a year ago, puffing and blowing and swapping stupid jokes with me on those first training runs as we contemplated our first half-marathon. I shrieked with joy and ran to her and she grabbed me. Both of us wild-eyed and teary, we exchanged kisses and loving words -- none of which I can remember now -- and then I was running again, careering forward in a state of such massive emotion that I'm amazed, thinking of it now, that I didn't spontaneously combust on the spot.
By sixteen and a half miles I'd figured out what wasn't right. The pain in my back had bloomed again, despite those weeks of enforced rest and expert osteopath attention, and the first corresponding shivers of pain were sending feelers down my right leg. A swooping downward lurch of panic hit me. I tried to shake it off and keep going but the pain was building very quickly and with it, my distress.
So I did what you do when the going gets tough and the tough need to get going: I went for a wee and a think, veering off the course to where a line of portaloos stood and barricading myself inside one to shut in my panic. There, in the dim blue light and the animal smell of other people's fear, I chewed painkillers and took shaky breaths and thought: how do I do this, how do I get going again. The murmur told me: Grace.
So I came out and I started running again, only I couldn't. I told myself I would walk half a mile and then try again. I counted down to seventeen and a half miles and started running again. But the pain built up again, so I walked and hobbled, pushing out thoughts of failure and ashamedly hoping that no-one would see me walking, and then I forced myself to run again. By now I'd passed the eighteen-mile mark and there again was Karen, yelling at me from the barricades. Sagging with relief and self-pity I went to her and fastened myself around her neck and told her, choked, how much it hurt. She hugged me back tightly and told me how well I was doing. Around us the crowd looked at our embrace and looked at my face. Arms came out and patted me and told me I could do it. A blur of faces pushed into mine and said, come on, come on. Karen released me back into the flow of runners and I found my pace and ran again.
The next three miles were misery. At this point the route had taken us into the heart of Canary Wharf, all hard-faced glittering windows and no progress: we wound around and around, marking time and miles until we could be released back towards the centre of town and the final stretch. But not yet, and not yet, and not yet. We passed restaurants and wine bars and offices -- including my own place of work, an incentive to run straighter and a bit faster, no matter how much it hurt -- and here the crowds shouted for Toby and Robert, and yelled "Come on old man!" and rugby shouts of "Whoooooarrrrrgh!" for confident young specimens who strode out and overtook all around me.
Then, thank God, we were released, leaving the glistening maze behind us and heading back out towards my family and friends and the NAS crowd of supporters who I knew were all waiting at mile 21, scanning the crowd anxiously, their gazes turned so far out into the mass as they searched for me that they jumped when I came up the inside lane and whooped in their faces. Ecstatic, I did a little dance and they laughed, and grabbed me. My parents and sisters, tears in their eyes, clutched me. My husband leaned forward for a kiss and Betty and the boys -- hot and sticky -- smiled and put their hands out to me. And there was Grace, smiling and kissing me and asking me: "Why are you crying?"
At that point I thought I'd done it. Leaving everyone I loved behind me with a wave and a promise to see them at the finish, I thought I'd cracked it. I ran on, back along the highway -- the roar building to an astonishing pitch -- and into Blackfriars tunnel and an incline to the Victoria Embankment. As I bent into it the pain in my back came over me in a huge wave. For a panic-stricken moment I thought that I was going to be sick or black out. Breathing, concentrating, I emerged from the tunnel sandwiched in the middle of the staggering pack, to an immense crowd screaming encouragement. A sign told me I had only two and a half miles to go. Around me I could see runners smiling through their exhaustion and managing a final spurt. But all I could manage was a hobble, a limping half-walk, and then a walk -- biting my lips not to cry in front of all these people. My watch showed that I still had twenty minutes before five hours had passed. I walked as quickly as I could bear to, hoping to ease out the pain enough to pick up a run again, and started a distracted, frayed conversation with a similarly wrung-out runner alongside me.
At the corner of Big Ben I turned and saw, if it were possible, an even bigger crowd. I started running again, unable to bear the humiliation of walking in front of so many, despite being almost cross-eyed in pain. The route turned into St James Park and along Birdcage Walk, and while my mind was yelling at me to stop, it was also registering dimly that this was nearly the end. A sign said 800 metres and I nearly threw myself down on the floor at the thought of how far I still had to go. But then I turned and there was Buckingham Palace and the Mall and people were ten deep at the barricades, hanging off lampposts and thronged, waving, in the fountains and there was no way I could stop in front of them all, so I plodded on, weaving and bent, and there in front of me was another red arch like the one I had gone through nearly five hours ago. The clock on top of it said four hours and fifty-four minutes. I headed for it and was aware that I was smiling, that we were all smiling, and that it was nearly the end.
I crossed the finish line and raised my arms intending to make a victory gesture but found instead as I slowed to a final stop that I was clutching my head and weeping. Wiping my face with sticky hands, I followed lines of shattered runners submitting to the attentions and directions of race officials. A young man removed my time chip from my shoes while a woman strung a medal around my neck. In a daze, I collected my kit bag, slung it over my shoulder and started out into the crowds again to find my daughter.
Grace Under Pressure: Going The Distance as an Asperger's Mum is published by Piatkus in October 2012
Sophie
[This piece is taken from Sophie's blog, which you can read here: http://www.courage-is.blogspot.co.uk/]
