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Praise for A Full Life with Autism

Lars Perner, Ph.D., Chair, Panel of People on the Spectrum of Autism Advisors for the Autism Society of America, and Assistant Professor of Clinical Marketing, USC, had this to say about A Full Life with Autism:

Each individual on the spectrum is unique and will need personally tailored supports.  At the same time, because of autism’s complexities and seemingly contradictory characteristics, it is often difficult to get a view of the “big picture” of a life on the spectrum and the challenges that it presents.  In their very comprehensive—yet highly readable—book, Chantal and Jeremy succeed in addressing both of these concerns.

Although ample resources for addressing the diverse needs of individuals on the spectrum are presented, the case Jeremy illustrates the types of challenges, surprises, and opportunities  that may come up as an individual develops.  Chantal talks about initially not expecting Jeremy even to finish high school and subsequently being able to help him not just graduate but go on to college.  An especially intriguing issue discussed involved helping Jeremy understand that a girlfriend is not something that can just be “hired” in the way that one can secure aides and support workers—an issue that only the most clairvoyant parent might have anticipated. Although optimistic and filled with humor, the book clearly acknowledges challenges that this family faced and those that will likely be faced by others—including obstacles to finding long term housing opportunities and healing from traumatic events.

Although much of the writing is done by Chantal, Jeremy is a consistent, creative, and innovative contributor, talking candidly about his own experiences that have led to the lists of tips that he presents.  I especially love his observation that rights of disabled individuals “are founded on the Fourteenth Amendment of the Constitution.”  The book’s extensive list of issues that may come up will unquestionable leave many families much better prepared for handling the challenges that will come up over the years.

More Rave Reviews: A Full Life with Autism

Elaine Hall,  creator of the Miracle Project, author of Now I See the Moon, co-author of Seven Keys to Unlock Autism and  subject of the movie “AUTISM: The Musical” has this to say about A Full Life with Autism:

A Full Life with Autism provides parents of teens on the autistic spectrum understanding, guidance, hope, and resources to navigate the uncharted territory of adult living.  Thank you, Chantal and Jeremy Sicile-Kira for responding to questions that so many of us parents are aching to know.  Thank you for brilliantly weaving  the parent perspective with Jeremy’s internal dialogue.  Thank you, Jeremy  for bravely articulating what is really going on inside the mind/body of someone with autism. I will use your words as starting points in my discussions with my own son, Neal.

A Full Life with Autism reminds us that the true “experts” on autism are our children; and that we, the adults, must listen to their wants and desires, then find the resources to help them realize their dreams.  I will be recommending this book to everyone I know.

 

 

A Full Life with Autism: Comments by Dr. Cathy Pratt

Unfortunately, many adults on the autism experience high rates of unemployment or underemployment.  Some of our most gifted live in poverty and have few options in life.   Chantal and Jeremy have creatively worked to create an engaged life for Jeremy and his family.   This book provides very practical ideas for transition planning and provides a template that others can use as they support adults moving into adulthood.   I highly recommend this for any family or individual as they  prepare for transition planning.

 

Dr. Cathy Pratt, BCBA-D, Director- Indiana Resource Center for Autism, Indiana Institute on Disability and Community; Former President of the Autism Society of America

The Marines are Looking for a Few Good Men

Rarely does the war on Iraq coincide with the war on autism in my house. Yet, a few months ago, the phone rang and my hands were full of crap, literally. Normally, I would have let voice mail pick up, but I was expecting a call from my daughter. I ran to the phone and picked it up with the rubber gloves I was wearing. I was in the middle of cleaning my 18 year old autistic son’s most recent failed attempt to make it to the toilet in time. Timing is everything.

“May I please speak to Jeremy?” requested a strong male voice. This is an unusual request in my house, as my son Jeremy is nonverbal. “He can’t come to the phone right now. Who is this, please?” I asked. “Take this number down, and tell him to call Ron,” the male voice instructed. “What is this about?,” I inquired. “I’m from the Marines. I’m calling all the Seniors from Torrey Pines High School, and I want to tell Jeremy what we have to offer.” “Really,” I replied, “Do you offer toilet training? I’ve heard you are really good at teaching bed making, standing in line and following directions. We are still having trouble in those areas, too. When can he start and where do I bring him?”

Actually, that was the conversation going on in my head. I just laughed and told him my son was autistic, nonverbal and couldn’t talk on the phone. When you have a son as disabled as I do, you learn to be grateful for the smallest things. Like the fact that your son will never be eligible for active duty, that he doesn’t risk the possibility of getting killed in Iraq.

A short time later, Jeremy received a letter from the Selective Service System, who obviously were still looking for a few good men. This letter informed Jeremy that since he was now 18, he was required by law to register for selective service. Included was an application to fill out listing three categories of possible exemptions. As I read the application, I thought “OK, I’ll just have to check one of these off for Jeremy and mail it out.” To my dismay, there were only three possible exemptions listed: Females; Members of the Armed Forces on full-time active duty; and Men who are unable to register due to circumstances beyond their control, such as being hospitalized, institutionalized, or incarcerated.

I couldn’t believe it. My son did not fit into any of those categories. Where was I supposed to check for “Males over the age of 18 who require 24 hour care because of their disability”? Was I supposed to sign Jeremy up and send him with his own private support person if he were ever drafted?

So I decided to get creative. I drew my own box at the bottom of the list, checked it off and wrote next to it “My son is severely impacted by autism and requires 24 hour care

and help with all of his every day living skills. Please see attached documentation.” I thought that would be the end of it.

Low and behold, a few months later, Jeremy received his legal proof of registration card from the Selective Service System. He also received a pamphlet extolling him to ‘DISCOVER THE CAREER YOU WERE BORN TO PURSUE,’ and informing him that they had ‘MORE THAN 4,000 JOBS TO EXPLORE,’ and my personal favorite ‘88% OF OUT JOBS TRAIN YOU FOR A CAREER OUTSIDE THE MILITARY.’

Now, as an expert on transition to adulthood services for those on the autism spectrum, I started fantasizing here. According to the 2002 report published by the President’s

Commission on Excellence in Special Education (ordered by President George Bush), unemployment rates for working-age adults with disabilities have hovered at the 70% level for at least the past twelve years. The Commission found that poor implementation of federal laws and policies in effect to help disabled students transition to competitive employment or higher education was one the reasons for such a high rate of unemployment. Well, what if we put the Selective Service System in charge of transition programs and special education services from high school on up? They seem to be good at job development and effective at implementation of federal law and policies.

I continued to read the pamphlet ‘Choosing a career is a big decision. What do you love to do? What are you good at?’ Gosh, these are the same questions I ask the teens and young adults with autism in my line of work. ‘Join the military and find out.’

Seriously, I doubt I could ever get Jeremy to agree to join the military, even if it offered him a guaranteed career. During the 2004 presidential debate, my son sat with us in the family room, flicking a piece of string, seemingly impervious to what we were watching for two hours. Back then, my son was just learning how to use a letter-board as a means of communication and we were unsure of how much he understood of what he heard. (As shown on MTV’s True Life episode “I Have Autism,” Jeremy has recently mastered the use of a Litewriter, a piece of assistive technology that speaks out what he types).

The next day in a workshop, Jeremy was asked to demonstrate his letter-board capabilities to a group of people watching on a video monitor in a separate room. Soma Mukhopadhyay, Educational Director of HALO, presented a letter-board to Jeremy and said “Hi Jeremy. Nice to see you. Do you want to tell me about something you did or something you watched on TV yesterday?”

SAW ON TV, Jeremy spelled out.

“What did you watch?” asked Soma

DEBATE

“Who do you want to see win the election, Jeremy, The democrats or the republicans?”

DEMOCRATS

“Why?”

STOP THE WAR

“What happens when we stop the war?” inquired Soma.

SOLDIERS CAN COME HOME

All this just goes to show, my son may be autistic, but he definitely isn’t stupid.

Rarely does the war on Iraq coincide with the war on autism in my house. Yet, a few months ago, the phone rang and my hands were full of crap, literally. Normally, I would have let voice mail pick up, but I was expecting a call from my daughter. I ran to the phone and picked it up with the rubber gloves I was wearing. I was in the middle of cleaning my 18 year old autistic son’s most recent failed attempt to make it to the toilet in time. Timing is everything.

“May I please speak to Jeremy?” requested a strong male voice. This is an unusual request in my house, as my son Jeremy is nonverbal. “He can’t come to the phone right now. Who is this, please?” I asked. “Take this number down, and tell him to call Ron,” the male voice instructed. “What is this about?,” I inquired. “I’m from the Marines. I’m calling all the Seniors from Torrey Pines High School, and I want to tell Jeremy what we have to offer.” “Really,” I replied, “Do you offer toilet training? I’ve heard you are really good at teaching bed making, standing in line and following directions. We are still having trouble in those areas, too. When can he start and where do I bring him?”

Actually, that was the conversation going on in my head. I just laughed and told him my son was autistic, nonverbal and couldn’t talk on the phone. When you have a son as disabled as I do, you learn to be grateful for the smallest things. Like the fact that your son will never be eligible for active duty, that he doesn’t risk the possibility of getting killed in Iraq.

A short time later, Jeremy received a letter from the Selective Service System, who obviously were still looking for a few good men. This letter informed Jeremy that since he was now 18, he was required by law to register for selective service. Included was an application to fill out listing three categories of possible exemptions. As I read the application, I thought “OK, I’ll just have to check one of these off for Jeremy and mail it out.” To my dismay, there were only three possible exemptions listed: Females; Members of the Armed Forces on full-time active duty; and Men who are unable to register due to circumstances beyond their control, such as being hospitalized, institutionalized, or incarcerated.

I couldn’t believe it. My son did not fit into any of those categories. Where was I supposed to check for “Males over the age of 18 who require 24 hour care because of their disability”? Was I supposed to sign Jeremy up and send him with his own private support person if he were ever drafted?

So I decided to get creative. I drew my own box at the bottom of the list, checked it off and wrote next to it “My son is severely impacted by autism and requires 24 hour care

and help with all of his every day living skills. Please see attached documentation.” I thought that would be the end of it.

Low and behold, a few months later, Jeremy received his legal proof of registration card from the Selective Service System. He also received a pamphlet extolling him to ‘DISCOVER THE CAREER YOU WERE BORN TO PURSUE,’ and informing him that they had ‘MORE THAN 4,000 JOBS TO EXPLORE,’ and my personal favorite ‘88% OF OUT JOBS TRAIN YOU FOR A CAREER OUTSIDE THE MILITARY.’

Now, as an expert on transition to adulthood services for those on the autism spectrum, I started fantasizing here. According to the 2002 report published by the President’s

Commission on Excellence in Special Education (ordered by President George Bush), unemployment rates for working-age adults with disabilities have hovered at the 70% level for at least the past twelve years. The Commission found that poor implementation of federal laws and policies in effect to help disabled students transition to competitive employment or higher education was one the reasons for such a high rate of unemployment. Well, what if we put the Selective Service System in charge of transition programs and special education services from high school on up? They seem to be good at job development and effective at implementation of federal law and policies.

I continued to read the pamphlet ‘Choosing a career is a big decision. What do you love to do? What are you good at?’ Gosh, these are the same questions I ask the teens and young adults with autism in my line of work. ‘Join the military and find out.’

Seriously, I doubt I could ever get Jeremy to agree to join the military, even if it offered him a guaranteed career. During the 2004 presidential debate, my son sat with us in the family room, flicking a piece of string, seemingly impervious to what we were watching for two hours. Back then, my son was just learning how to use a letter-board as a means of communication and we were unsure of how much he understood of what he heard. (As shown on MTV’s True Life episode “I Have Autism,” Jeremy has recently mastered the use of a Litewriter, a piece of assistive technology that speaks out what he types).

The next day in a workshop, Jeremy was asked to demonstrate his letter-board capabilities to a group of people watching on a video monitor in a separate room. Soma Mukhopadhyay, Educational Director of HALO, presented a letter-board to Jeremy and said “Hi Jeremy. Nice to see you. Do you want to tell me about something you did or something you watched on TV yesterday?”

SAW ON TV, Jeremy spelled out.

“What did you watch?” asked Soma

DEBATE

“Who do you want to see win the election, Jeremy, The democrats or the republicans?”

DEMOCRATS

“Why?”

STOP THE WAR

“What happens when we stop the war?” inquired Soma.

SOLDIERS CAN COME HOME

All this just goes to show, my son may be autistic, but he definitely isn’t stupid.