Starting Third Grade

Judy Endow, MSW judyendow.com Too much new                   for back to school                                     is why I just                    don’t like it,                   though                                      each new thing                                               all by                    itself                                                           is entirely                                                                             acceptable. New shiny shoes                   I do so love                                      new ribbons in                my hair                   a freshly pressed                                      brand new pink                  dress                                                   Oh       …….                                                            ain’t I                                                                             debonair! My satchel packed                   with all new things                                      with all the stuff I                need                   sits on the floor                                      next to the                    door                                                just waiting                                                            for me                                                                             to leave! New class lists                    posted on the                 doors;                                      the students find their                names.                      They take their                   seats                                      and wait to                   see                                                   what will                                                         this brand new teacher                                                             say! “Unpack supplies.                    Get settled in.                                      My name is on the                   board.”                    On and on…

Poetry: My Voice, My Life

Amy Sequenzia Amy is a self-advocate who types her thoughts. The poem below is from her recent book of poetry My Voice: Autism, Life and Dreams. Please contact Amy to acquire your own copy of her book. My Voice, My Life Look at me. Go ahead, take a good look. What do you see? Weird? Silly? Pitiful? Can’t do anything? You might feel sorry for me You might pity me You probably think I should be treated like a child. I’ve heard and seen this before. “Can she understand me?” “Does she know what is going on?” “How can she make choices?” I understand your confusion But it is time for me to come out. Let’s just make something clear I am autistic, I am disabled, I have many special needs, I look different; I need help eating, walking, moving around. I do not need help Thinking. That’s what you…

Purple Sucker

Dawn Comer What happened next? Mommy, what happened next? she begs, wanting for story, an end. But I have no context, know no story. Morning but my daughter’s eyes flit, seeking shadows in sunlight. Mommy, what happened next? Morning and my eyes stare, settling into love-heart pillow, bright pink against dull blue carpet.  Cast off casualty of nighttime. And then I understand. Lucy, did you dream? Did you see  a story in your sleep? Baby crying, Lucy says. Baby crying in daddy’s office. Purple sucker in daddy’s office. And then, Elliot angry. Baby crying. And me not needing to hear Lucy but still she says her name as if it is not even hers. Lucy baby crying in daddy’s office. Elliot angry. Lucy baby have purple sucker. Mommy! Mommy, what happened next? Her first shared dream an ache in my gut. I have no words, no end, no power, no…