Sara Winter Squag.com Squag is a new social media space with a difference, developed for tweens and younger teens with autism. The user (the tween, called a Squagger) begins using Squag by interacting with his or her own “Squagspace’” — designed to look like a room — with content (photos, videos, and messages added by parents. Eventually, when a particular Squagger is is ready (according to parents) one Squagger is matched with another, and they can interact. The interaction are always only between two Squaggers. The platform is now in beta user testing, which means the ability to connect pairs of Squaggers is not yet enabled. I saw a Squag announcement, and was intrigued by the concept, so arranged an interview with Sara Winter, Squag’s founder–LD What inspired you to create SquagTM? The idea came to me two years ago when I was on the playground with my nephew…
Tag: friendship
Flummox and Friends creator Christa Dahlstrom recently sent out the following tweet: “People of Twitter: I am engaged in the making of a TELEVISION PROGRAMME for NERD YOUTH and I REQUIRE YOUR ASSISTANCE.” We recommend you heed her rallying cry and hop over to the Flummox and Friends Kickstarter page — Christa and her crew are poised to deliver a smart, sassy, infinitely engaging and very necessary show for kids who are, well, flummoxed by social dynamics. We talked to Christa last week about why Flummox and Friends needs to happen and how it will change the world when it does. Tell us what Flummox and Friends will be like. The show is a live-action comedy, along the lines of a contemporary television comedy rather than an instructional video or typical kids’ educational show. The main focus of the show is Professor Gideon T. Flummox of Flummox Labs and his…
Sarah Macleod quarksandquirks.wordpress.com findingmygrounduu.wordpress.com aspergersathome.com “I love you,” I’d say. “I love you, too,” he’d reply, often snuggling into me speaking the sentiment with his body as much with his words. It’s been over two years since we’ve shared that exchange. Two years — perhaps three — since I’ve heard Bryce, my son with Aspergers, now 10, tell me he loves me. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t hurt. If I said that it was just words and that I don’t care about the words, my nose would grow like mad. Truth is, I know he loves me, but I ache to hear him say it again. On a recent night around the dinner table during a visit with my mother, the subject of love arose. Bryce pronounced, “I don’t love anyone.” Now, my mom is hip to the blunt mannerisms of my Aspie son, so she didn’t…