Handling Autism

Going Way Way Back Part 5

2025-09-01T08:03:00.000-07:00

As my mother's dementia gets worse, I have realized the importance of keeping a record of our family history. My own memory may not do these treasured moments any justice if I don't put it down on paper. So here goes....

In the last article, I stopped at the point where we settled in Zamboanga where my dad was assigned. My older brother Arnold (nicknamed Boyet) and I were already in school at this point. We were, most likely, enrolled in a Catholic school since both my parents were deeply religious. I remember clearly that both my mom Helen and I as well as my older brother Boyet were fluent in Chabacano (a dialect spoken in Zamboanga; it is a dialect that is Spanish in its roots). We led a pretty normal and happy life in this place. One of my happiest memories of Zamboanga was the family trips to the Pasonanca treehouse which had a swimming pool at the bottom of the tree and it was filled with water coming down from the mountain or something to that effect. A few years here in Zamboanga and it was time to relocate again. This time the family went back to Cebu.

By the time we went back to Cebu, the family was now composed of 7 kids (Boyet, Girlie, Papot, Andy, Bembem, Beditte, Ike) and our parents. I guess at this point, my parents (Helen and Fil) were more stable financially and were able to buy a home. They owned a building which had 3 apartments and we stayed in 1 of them, while the other 2 were rented out. My mom remained a full time homemaker at this point. There was lot to do...manage a household, feed a family of 7 kids and 2 parents, with usually 2 maids and a driver, and help the kids with school work. It sounds extravagant to have househelp but this was the norm during this time. Nowadays, it is extremely difficult to have this kind of help for one's home. It has much to do with the expense and availability of workers.

The home in Cebu was a simple 3-bedroom house with a bathroom, a toilet, living room, kitchen and dining room on the first floor. I always thought it was more than sufficient and was quite comfortable. We had a black and white television which we enjoyed thoroughly. We had cabinets upstairs that lined the hallway. These cabinets contained my father's books on accounting and law and the Encyclopedia Britannica books. We had a long rectangular dining table where family meals were enjoyed. Meals like breakfast and dinner were almost always served at the table. The distraction of cellphones were non-existent. As difficult as it can be, I have tried very hard to carry on this tradition with my own family. Mom was always an excellent cook so our meals were quite delicious. This made the need to eat out at restaurants almost unnecessary. Our parents probably felt relieved that this was the case as the expense of eating out would be quite a strain on our budget. I don't remember any of us ever complaining about it. The holiday meals especially around Christmas were exceptional. The essentials of life did not seem to be a problem for my parents. Is is only now that I realized how difficult it must have been for them to raise all of us.

My parents (Helen and Fil) made a lot of sacrifices in order to raise all of us. They had some close friends, especially those who were Cursillistas (a group of Catholic adults) who shared discussions about religion. I remember some of them coming to the house when it was either my mom's or dad's birthday and they would sing to them. During the holidays, they would visit our home and sing Christmas carols. There were a few occasions when mom and dad would go to a club not far from our home (After Six, I think was the name of the club.) and enjoy dancing and listening to music. My mother Helen was a fabulous and graceful dancer. I remember mom telling me that dad took dance lessons so he could keep up with her.

Mom mentioned to me that she did have 1 miscarriage. She still managed to add 1 more child to the brood. The youngest one (Norman) was born in 1968. My mom did not want any more children so she asked her gynecologist to tell my dad that it was dangerous for her to get pregnant again. My dad would have gladly added to the family if he had his druthers. But as always, he conceded to mom's wishes. Mom gave me some details of the birth control method they used. She said it was a German type of birth control which used a combination of pills and monitoring of her period. Mom was only 47 when she had Norman. At this point, she was still very capable of having more children. Thank goodness they stopped at 8 kids.

My mom Helen was by this time completely preoccupied with raising us, helping us with our education and trying to make extra money any way she could. She used to make cakes to sell at the corner store. That turned out to be counterproductive since we used our lunch money to go to the store to buy goodies there and that included pieces of the cake my mom made. When my youngest brother Norman was ready for school, mom finally had the opportunity to go back to work.

An unfortunate incident happened when my youngest brother Norman was about 4 years old. He had just been given a bath and was being dressed. While this was happening, he was snacking on some peanuts. Norman was a bit of a chatterbox as a child. One of the peanuts got stuck in his throat and he started choking. We were all very scared. My father was not one who could easily handle stress. My mother was still in her house clothes. She told my father to drive Norman immediately to the hospital which was only a few blocks away. Luckily, a surgeon was already there. My mother got dressed and hurried to the hospital. I remember her being very calm despite the difficult situation. A tracheotomy was done quickly. Norman survived with just a scar on his throat.

I don't remember my parents (Helen and Fil) complaining much about their kids but they were now at the point where adding to the brood would really make things unmanageable. We were all in private Catholic schools and mom provided the additional tutoring at home. For the most part, we were very independent in terms of our studies. That was mostly because there really was no other choice. Mom had to concentrate on the youngest kids. So the older kids were on their own. My oldest brother Boyet provided a good example for the rest of us. He was always studious so he never had to cram at the last minute for tests. As the younger siblings, we kind of tried to follow his example. Most of the time, we were not very successful at it. Playing with our neighbors was a major part of our daily lives. We all got pretty good grades but there was a lot of cramming from what I remember.

Going Way Way Back Part 4

2025-08-17T11:35:00.000-07:00

It is now August 17, 2025. It has been years since I wrote about my mother's past. The failure to continue with the process is truly regrettable. My mother Helen is now 97 years old and has dementia/Alzheimer's. From time to time, she is lucid but more often than not her recollection is less than accurate. I will do my best to write about her past from what I can recall.

In the last article about my mom Helen, I stopped at the point where she graduated from college and started life as a single young woman. I have seen photographs of mom (Helen) and dad (Fil) with friends at a picnic. I think they met through friends. My aunt (Tita Vicky, mom's younger sister, 6th sibling among a total of 8 kids) said that the courtship was pretty intense and serious. My dad (Fil), who lived in a different island (Iligan) albeit still in the southern part of the Philippines, traveled often to visit my mom. My grandmother (Lola Ekiang) told me stories about how my dad Fil would bring her several pieces of fabric and several colors of thread because she (my grandmother) was very much into embroidery. I have some pieces of my grandmother's work and they are incredible. I am afraid to use them for fear of ruining the work. Don't forget that the embroidery was all done by hand and not by machine. Aside from bringing gifts for my grandmother, my dad also brought a whole bunch of gifts for my mom Helen. My paternal grandmother (dad's mother, Lola Eliang, real name Otilia) had told me that despite bad weather like typhoons my dad (Fil) would insist on taking the boat ride that would bring him to my mom's hometown so he could see her. He was seriously smitten by my beautiful mom. My mom Helen told me years later after dad died that she had a whole bunch of suitors who were better looking than my dad. Mom was one who took my grandmother's advice seriously. My grandmother really like my dad's sincerity. She felt he would be a very good provider and, more importantly, a faithful husband. I am pretty sure she encouraged mom to date and, eventually, marry my dad. They were married on December 23, 1952.

Because mom can no longer recall the early days of her marriage, I will have to go with what I can remember of the early days of our childhood. From pictures, it looks like mom and dad honeymooned in Baguio, a city in the northern part of Luzon (Northern part of the Philippines). They were of the belief that having children was part and parcel of married life. The first few years of their life were spent in Cebu (the middle section of the archipelago of the Philippines). Here they had 3 children: my older brother nicknamed Boyet, myself (nicknamed Girlie) and my younger brother who was nicknamed Papot. We had relatively normal real names but these weird nicknames are kind of fun to mention. During this period, I am pretty sure mom and dad rented a home. Old photographs show a very happy couple with young children. My uncles and aunts spent a lot of time visiting us. Don't forget my mother Helen was the first one of her siblings to get married. My dad Fil was the oldest child on his side and also the first to get married. My dad had a younger brother (Dadong) and a younger sister (Charing). Having nieces and nephews must have been a fun new concept for my aunts and uncles. We truly felt special and loved by the family. What worries would young kids possibly have, right?

My father (Fil) worked for the BIR (Bureau of Internal Revenue) which is the equivalent of the IRS here in the USA. This kind of job meant he had to travel to other islands and stay there for quite some time. That meant that my parents had to uproot the family and settle in a new place quite often. My dad's next assignment was in Surigao which is in Mindanao in the southern part of the Philippines. My brother Andy was born here. There were now 4 kids. After a couple of years, a new assignment was given to my father. We once again pulled up stakes and settled in Manila, the capital of the Philippines. My 2 younger sisters were born here, nicknamed Bembem and Beditte. We were now a pretty large family consisting of my parents and 6 children.

As young kids, we vacationed fairly regularly in Buenavista, Agusan del Norte (southern part of the Philippines). My grandparents (Lola Eliang and Lolo Isaac) always made us feel welcome. My grandfather gave us lessons in math and English. My grandmother told us stories, cooked wonderful delicacies and spent time with us. I always marveled at the many trees they had - mango, tambis (watery rose apple), makopa (Java apple) and others. We enjoyed the big veranda they had on the 2nd floor. My grandparents' home did not have a modern bathroom. Instead, they had an outhouse, with strips of newspaper nailed to the wall (to be used in lieu of toilet paper). This situation with the bathroom was never an issue with us. Perhaps having fun in Buenavista was enough to overlook that. In fact, using that outhouse was kind of exciting since we had to be careful not to fall into that hole. My grandparents' home was simple but efficient. It was spacious with 4 bedrooms if my memory serves me right. It was made of wood with wood floors which were made shiny by rubbing a coconut husk vigorously on it. These memories are truly a priceless treasure.

Our stay in Manila was not permanent. After a couple of years, dad was assigned to Zamboanga in the very southern part of Mindanao. During this period of their lives, my parents made the wise decision to have my mom devote her time to bringing us up while my dad worked. Dad and mom continued renting a home because of the need to move every so often. The house had a nipa roof (thatched roof made of leaves of a palm tree). Every time it rained with heavy winds, the thatched roof would lift up and rain would come inside. This was, obviously, a huge problem. So, the roof was changed to galvanized iron. The rain no longer came into the house but even the slightest amount of rain falling on the galvanized iron roof made such a loud echoing sound that we could barely hear each other. When I think of this, it makes me laugh. Writing about our life in Zamboanga might make others think that life was hard. In fact, it never felt that way. We were quite the happy and content family. The happiness of the family was highlighted by the birth of my brother (7th child) Ike. He was born on June 3 which was also my grandfather's birthday (Grandpa Isaac) so the 7th child was named after my grandfather and father (Fil Isaac). Part 5 will have more of our life in Zamboanga so please stay tuned.

HOW IT STARTED

2021-01-22T07:07:00.002-08:00

Lea's diagnosis of autism was made when she was 5 years old. Compared to when most of the other parents knew that there was an issue with their child, this was on the late side. Lea was born in 1992 and seemed to hit the milestones on schedule. She loved letters and was able to identify them at a really young age. She loved to memorize lines from TV shows or from books and could repeat them to you impeccably. But her ability to communicate was very delayed. She didn't really put together complete sentences until she was 5. At this age, the sentences were very simple ones. She was also extremely shy around children her age. Lea's preference was to be at home or in her room playing with her toys. At this point, we knew Lea needed the services of a speech therapist. She received speech therapy at school and also got it privately. It was obvious that the work did not end with these professionals. We would have to do our part at home.

The fact that Lea was echolalic, though worrisome to us, was actually an advantage. This was something confirmed by a psychologist who we consulted. At least, we knew she was verbal. She loved books so we provided her with the books she was interested in. Audio books were not readily available at this time so I used a tape recorder and taped myself reading the books to her. Most of the time, I just spent the time and read to her. One of the most effective things we did at home was put a password on the door to her bedroom. Each day had a different password. To get in the bedroom, she had to read the word and use it in a sentence. It didn't have to be a complicated sentence. A simple sentence would suffice. This was made into a game and that's what made it enjoyable for her.

To help with language, it was crucial not to stress Lea out. Lea, even to this day, does not do well in stressful situations. Then again, who does? When she wanted something like a cookie or a drink, I encouraged her to ask for it in a sentence. If she said "cookie", I would prompt her by saying "Can I please have a cookie?". Lea would then repeat the whole sentence, albeit slowly. Prompting was an important tool and I hoped the sentences would come naturally to her eventually. In time, they did. Time is operative word. The other important thing to remember is repetition. The practice of prompting had to be repeated over and over until the skill was acquired.

When we realized that social skills were another issue to deal with, we figured out that we might as well take advantage of Lea's ability to memorize lines easily. We used index cards and wrote sentences that applied to this situation. In this particular case, it was how she was to make friends. The index cards had sentences like "Hi, I'm Lea. What's your name?", "What's your favorite color?", "Do you want a cookie?", "Do you want to play hide and seek?". I was told that autistic children do not learn incidentally. That is, they don't learn by observing other children. So what they need to learn has to taught. This is what I had in mind when we asked Lea to read the index cards over and over and memorize the lines so she could use them in the future. We did role-playing where these sentences were used. Once again, here we made it a game so it didn't feel like some kind of a "class".

Language and words go hand in hand. Fortunately, even at a young age, Lea loved books. We did our absolute best to provide her with all the books she wanted to read. Buying them was not the only way to do this. The library was another resource. Barnes and Noble and other bookstores were another. We used to go to Barnes for a couple of hours and just read and not even buy any books. There was no way we could buy books every time we went to these book stores. After all, we used to go a lot. Being a lover of books and magazines has been a life saver for Lea. Later on in life, she also learned to love writing.

The methods described here are not from a psychiatrist or psychologist or autism expert. They are from a mother who has an autistic daughter who is now 28 years old and has just graduated from college. It's from someone who loved their daughter dearly and wanted to do the very best for her. I hope what I described here helps another parent. We are, after all, in this journey together. Our children's success is our success too.

The Benefits of Speech Therapy

2021-01-21T07:44:00.004-08:00

One of the symptoms of Lea's autism was a delay in language. She was alway echolalic, which, in her case, means that she easily memorized lines on shows she watched on TV and repeated them to you. Echolalia is manifested differently in each child. When Lea was repeating lines to you, her pronunciation was impecable but she was not able to hold a conversation and answer your questions logically. Of course, simple questions like "Are you hungry?" or "Do you want a cookie?" could be replied to. I was grateful she was verbal but this lack of real language was an issue that needed some resolution. We were lucky enough to get speech therapy at school but this proved to be insufficient to get the kind of progress I thought Lea was capable of.

So we turned to private sessions with a speech therapist (Lorraine Wankoff) who also taught at one of the universities here. She was absolutely the answer to our prayers. Lea had one on one sessions with her. I knew that there was no way we could keep up the sessions at the rate I wanted (about 4X a week) for a prolonged period of time because they were expensive. Normally, her sessions were done with just her and the child. The parents waited outside the room in the lobby. I pleaded with Lorraine to let me sit in a corner of the room where she held the session so I could take notes. I promised not to say one word (not exactly easy for me). She reluctantly agreed but told me this was not the norm. I took copious notes as the sessions went on. I wrote down exactly what the activity was, how Lea replied, what Lea said, if she looked at the therapist, how long her eye contact was, etc.

With this data, you could see clearly if progress was made or not. Since there were notes on the activities, I could do that same activity at home. In my eyes, that would double the progress. Believe it or not, that actually worked. The idea is the speech therapist has a professional way of doing things and all I had to do was copy what she did. Lorraine put a lot of importance on creative playing even though board games were part and parcel of the session. Any kind of activity where language is involved was useful in promoting Lea's abiility to communicate well. She would have toys like dolls, chairs, tables, cars, animals on the desk. Then she would ask Lea where the doll was headed to or what they were going to eat. Lea would hesitate and think and answer. If Lea would echo an answer from a TV show that was ok with the therapist but she always redirected it so a more spontaneous reply could be provided. All these sessions were extremely interesting and of great help to us.

Slowly, we weaned Lea off these sessions when we were convinced that we could do it on our own and the sessions at school would suffice. This took time but we did get to the point where she was off it completely. The speech therapy sessions at school were replaced with counseling sessions. Lea had the great luck of having workers from an agency that supports the autistic community (QSAC). Without a doubt, this agency was crucial to Lea's progress. I am so grateful to them and to their staff. It really does "take a village" (to borrow a line from Hillary's book). Even if a child is not verbal, the ability to communicate has to be honed so that our kids do not feel the frustration of not being understood. Better communication promotes better social skills and makes it easier for someone with this diagnosis to get taught new ideas and new skills. Communication is not limited to actual speech. It could be sign language, using pictures or using a computer. Like Lorraine said "If you fix the language/communication issue, everything else will fall into place."

End of a Journey and the Start of Another

2021-01-14T08:41:00.002-08:00

My life has been intertwined with my daughter's life. Such is the case with any parent, but more so with a parent whose child has special abilities. Lea was diagnosed with autism at 5 years old. That was in 1997 which is a lifetime ago but, for me, still feels like yesterday. Being an only child has given her the advantage of parents who could concentrate their efforts on what she needed and what she required to have the best possible life. Fortunately and, despite what the original doctors said, Lea has thrived and done really well. She is high-functioning and, by the grace of God, and with the help of numerous individuals, she has accomplished what the original diagnostics said she would never be able to do.

Lea's education was always the most important project we undertook. She spent a couple of years in a segregated special ed school with the most loving and nurturing educators. One of them secretly told me to find a different school for her because she could see that Lea did not belong in this setting. The search led to private schools in Manhattan, Queens, and other locations. I am pretty confident that we could have placed her in one of these very expensive schools with the public school system shouldering the expense (a lawyer would have been needed and we, her parents, were more than willing to fight the good fight). Meeting the inclusion coordinator at that time (Mayra) was the biggest blessing we could have ever received. With her guidance, I was convinced that an inclusion setting in a neighborhood public school would give Lea the best possible educational set-up. Inclusion, at this time, meant 2 kids with special needs in a regular classroom with a visiting special ed teacher helping the general ed teacher and a para-professional specifically for the 2 children. Lea had great role models in her classmates and very encouraging teachers who, with the training given, were able to provide her the chance to succeed despite the challenges she faced. Lea, who had issues with social skills, made lifelong friends here and, to this day, still keeps in touch with 2 great ladies. Before the end of 6th grade, Lea was able to transition to a regular classroom and was no longer under the supervision of the special ed department. She did get services still like speech therapy and counseling, both essential in moving her in the right direction. This was the setting throughout middle school.

She auditioned for a performance high school and miraculously got in. She majored in drama and was faced with tremendous difficulties. There were more challenges here than what she had ever faced before. Frank Sinatra School of Performing Arts (whose benefactor is Tony Bennett...yes the great singer Tony Bennett) is a school with students who start out running...all dying to perform and almost all extremely creative. Lea is shy but very into drama. She can memorize lines like no one else can. She needed a lot of guidance in learning the craft but was more than willing to put in the effort. This school had the most wonderful teachers and counselors who gave her the opportunity to gain confidence and courage. I wasn't sure that this was the school for her. So much so that when I first saw her on stage doing a monologue, I burst into tears. I have to say that high school was rocket fuel for this child. She graduated from high school with the drama award which is given only to 1 graduating student in every department.

The next step was community college (Queensborough Community College) which took longer than the normal 2 years. It took Lea 4 years to finish but finish she did. Lea is prone to anxiety so taking a full load was out of the question. This didn't matter to us since all we wanted was for her to enjoy the college experience and get her associate degree. Once that was done, she wanted to get her bachelor's. This was an easy decision for all of us. All it needed was her desire. We were so on board.

Getting her bachelor's was hard work for Lea. Since community college, she was pretty much on her own in terms of asking for tutoring help from her teachers and peers. Here at Queens College, she did the same and dealt with the many challenges any student faces. So after 5 years at Queens College, Lea graduated in the summer of 2020 and got her Bachelor's degree, major in drama, minor in journalism. The icing on the cake was her Magna cum Laude honor.

I'm writing all this not to brag about her accomplishments (well, actually, I can't help bragging) but, honestly, it's to let parents of young children who may have been diagnosed with a similar issue know that our kids are gifted with so many special abilities that need to be discovered, nurtured and brought to the forefront. With our help and the help of other willing individuals (especially teachers, counselors and therapists), they can reach unbelievable heights and become unbelievable human beings. 2021 will be another period of transition and changes for Lea, for us and for everyone else. We hope the pandemic ends soon so we can all get back to "normal". I am of the belief that the future is bright and, together, we can lift each other's spirits. Here's to a BEAUTIFUL 2021.

Coming To Terms With Retirement

2017-01-31T12:42:00.001-08:00

The title of this article sure makes retirement sound ominous. I, honestly, thought it would be. For me, the "end of an era" was December 31, 2016. Running a small furniture company and ending my career meant that the last couple of months would be extremely busy. It was and the situation was exacerbated by the feeling that I did not have the opportunity to truly train my replacement. This was a source of tremendous worry for me. It had to take numerous conversations with my 89 year old mother to convince me that this was no longer my responsibility and I had to "let it go" (Nanay must have seen Frozen.) As a footnote, I worked for this company for about 8 years then left for about 5 and came back for 33 more years. Working for the owner of this company was a great joy. When he turned over the company to the daughters, the situation was not the same and that will be a story for another time.
So December 31 came and went. January 1 and January 2 were non-working days so we did what we had always done on easy lazy days. It was January 3 that would be the one to cement the idea that I had retired. Waking up and not having to frantically go about my day in order to start work early was no longer under consideration. This idea made me both thrilled and filled with nervous energy. It was a "now what" moment. It was hard to wrap my head around the idea that I could do whatever I wanted at any pace I wanted. I cooked our meals (love doing it but I'm not very good at it--- average at best, I haven't killed anyone with my dishes although my brothers think that someday I probably will.). I made curtains. Reading a book was so comforting. Finally, I could pick up a book and actually enjoy it without rushing to finish it. Doing things with my daughter and husband could now be done without considering whether it was going to conflict with something I had to do for work. And yet, it took a little time (perhaps a week or so) to get my rhythm going. At first, the whole day seemed to overwhelm me. If I cooked meals, then the house could not be cleaned. It was disconcerting to see the house in disarray. What the hell I said to myself! I used to do all that and go to work. That feeling has not dissipated.
I've learned to pace myself and do things in a more relaxed manner (not easy for someone who lives in New York and is high-strung). So this is what they mean when they say take time to smell the roses. Today is Jan.31 so it's 31 days since that first retirement day. Today, I was asked to speak at a parent support group meeting. The topic was "How the arts help a child with autism". I've done this a number of times but work always seems to get in the way of being able to do it more often. It's my way of paying forward since there have been so many people that have helped me in my journey to make sure Lea (my daughter) gets the best possible opportunities in life. Lea is now 24 so I'm an "old parent" who has had to fight the good fight for quite some time. Helping others with their journey is no big deal. Another thing that I have time to do. Retirement is great!!!!

A SPECIAL REUNION

2015-11-12T12:08:00.000-08:00

Los Angeles, California was the site of our latest reunion. This was a reunion of high school classmates. Our high school days were spent at St. Theresa's College in Cebu City, Philippines. We graduated in 1973. Oh, my....that sounds like decades ago. St. Theresa's is an all girls Catholic high school that has meant a lot to all of us. Many of us immigrated to the United States and look forward to every opportunity to see any of our friends and classmates. The California group started this yearly reunion. The deal has always been whoever could attend was welcome to do so. Every year the location is different and so are the activities. I think we've had 12 so far. Counting this one, I've been to 4. Every single one I've attended has been memorable.
This is one of those events that brings you back to your home country and to days of old when we were just entering the adult world. Los Angeles has a lot to offer in terms of being the venue. There are numerous restaurants and an abundance of tourist attractions. Getting on one of those tour buses was a delight because you had a guide who could give you details about the sites and the homes of famous movie stars and celebrities. So there was no way restaurants and a tour was not going to be part of the itinerary. Because one of the hosts had a big enough home to host almost all of the attendees, a reunion program was actually possible. Despite not being a dancer, I found myself line dancing with our classmates who all happen to be really good dancers. There were unending stories and laughter. Catching up with each others' lives was part and parcel of the reunion. My classmates even managed to invite a friend who was also a neighbor of ours. He spent so many days in our home so was really close to us. Hugging him made me feel like I was back in Walingwaling (the street where we lived). The hundreds of pictures taken are obvious evidence of the fun everyone had.Even the simplest of activities like sharing a meal was totally thrilling. Needless to say, it was the company of these wonderful classmates that made the experience one to always remember.
How fortunate we are to be able to do this! How fantastic that classmates from the class of 1973 find so much joy in seeing each other! I would be crazy to miss the NEXT ONE!

Being With Other Parents

2013-09-26T06:43:00.000-07:00

My daughter is now 21 years old and in her second year of college. It has been a long, wonderful, difficult, crazy and joyful journey and continues to be. We were reminded of that last night when my daughter and I attended a parents' support group meeting. These were parents of very young children running from age 3 to 7. For me, this was ages ago, but I can sympathize with these parents of young children diagnosed with either autism or PDD-NOS. There is that big shock when the diagnosis is first given. Once that initial fearful event subsides, there is that greater frustration at not knowing exactly who to turn or what to do for your child. My daughter's diagnosis was given 16 years ago when she was 5 years old and it still feels like yesterday. The meeting last night was a reminder of how we just never forget those feelings.
To have your child shuttled from one educational setting to another was so traumatizing not just for us the parents but also for our daughter. It felt like none of the schools we approached wanted us there. My daughter was finally placed in a special ed setting which was the right fit for 2 years. After that, the search for a more appropriate setting continued. The godsend in all this was finding the agency that would provide us with the necessary skills to cope and help my daughter. QSAC was the agency I turned to and they have been there for us through all the difficult times. We still need them and we still have the "episodes" which I would not be able to go through alone. So, it is without shame that I admit how much I need their help. We are so indebted to them that the very least I can do is help them whenever they ask us to. Sometimes finances and work schedules get in the way, but as long as it is possible, we'll be there for this agency. That's why we came to the support group meeting. I have been on the battlefield a little longer than the parents who were there. They need to know that there is, in fact, light at the end of that tunnel. And it is a very bright light. Our children can be taught new concepts and new skills. They can make friends. They will show us how wonderful our lives are because they are in it. The diagnosis is not the end of our lives as we know it. Every little accomplishment our children make is so celebrated. Because of that, I think we are the lucky ones. I must correct that and instead say "I KNOW WE ARE THE LUCKY ONES!!!!!"

Going Way Way Back / Part 3

2013-08-30T20:39:00.000-07:00

   It has been such a long time since I've written about my mother's stories. It is now August 30, 2013 and I have just spent the whole afternoon with my mom(Helen). The time has been so special and extremely enjoyable. Since my mother lives in New Jersey and I live in New York, these occasions do not come as often as I would like. My dear mother Helen has made us a fabulous lunch of sauteed bittermelon which is a favorite of mine but is bitter so not too many people like it. In addition, there are bowls of fish soup, rice, cucumber salad and some noodles. Everything was delicious. After lunch, we get down to business.
   Now it's time to continue with my mother's stories. In my last blog, I talked about how my grandparents (Lola Ekiang and Lolo Isaac) and their children lived during the war (World War II, in case you were wondering). People were relieved that being able to get back to a normal life was within arm's length at last. At this point, my mother Helen was now 15 years old. During the war, she was taught how to care for her younger brothers and sisters, how to cook and how to do a whole bunch of chores. Now that peace has come, she and my grandparents had to think about continuing Helen's education. She (Helen) qualified to go straight to her sophomore year of high school, skipping the freshman year. My mother beams with so much pride when she provides me with this "little" detail. This past May, my mom turned 85 and, at this age, when a person gives information similar to this last one, I can never see it as "bragging". In fact, it is quite adorable, even funny, when she tells me about it. I would probably think the same way if it were someone else as long as they were this age. With the war behind them, the family went about the business of being a family. My grandparents were busy being in the teaching business, the kids went to school, household chores were done and so on and so forth. All this was happening in Buenavista, Agusan del Norte, which is in the southern part of the Philippines. It is the equivalent of the suburbs. The big city in the Philippines is Manila, which is in the northern part of the country. My grandparents had a lot of faith in my mother Helen who was the oldest child so they made the necessary sacrifices so she could go to a very good university in Manila (University of Santo Tomas). Apparently, my mom (Helen) was super-smart and graduated college with honors (just like she did in high school). After graduation, she went back to her hometown in the south and taught there. She said that during the period she taught there, their school won many awards. I realize my mother is 85 years old but I can assure you her memory is completely intact. So I am convinced that these details are true. You will not believe how she tells these stories complete with minutiae. It is so fascinating.
   At this time, my mother Helen was now a young teacher and was enjoying the life of a single, working woman. Apparently, every child from their generation felt completely indebted to their parents for the sacrifices they made to give them a good education. Once they graduated, they felt it was their duty to help with the education of their younger siblings. My mother was, certainly, no exception. She was happy to give her entire paycheck to my grandfather. She told me that despite my grandfather's objections, she made arrangements with the school to have her paycheck given to her father. It is around this time that the story of how my own parents meet starts. It is so so so interesting and shows the great differences in our generations. So please stay tuned for the next blog.....

Back Off

2013-04-15T06:46:00.000-07:00

   The spring semester for my daughter is drawing to a close so it is now time for her to decide whether she should work or take a summer class. In order to lessen the stress of college life, we, as her parents, have tried to leave the decision regarding her work load in school up to her. Her first semester in college taught us that clearly 15 credits was way too much. That semester ended with her dropping 1 three credit course. Even with 12 credits, we could see how stressful the semester was. Thankfully, she passed all her classes. Every semester since then has been much lighter. Since this is now the case for the regular semesters, it seems to me that it makes sense that she makes use of the summer by taking a class. If she doesn't do that, then she has to work. That's fair, isn't it?
   One of my daughter's attempts to work was putting in an application with Build-A-Bear in Times Square, NY. This is an adorable store with wonderful products. Being the shy person that she is, my daughter asked if she should still bring her application in person even though she already applied on line. I am so used to "helping" her out that I willingly called the store. I told the young lady who answered that my daughter applied on line and should she still come in person. The young lady said she should because they would like to meet the applicants. We did and, of course, my daughter was pretty terrified of asking the sales staff where she should go and who she should talk to. I was with her so I "kind of" helped her out. I listened from a distance as she answered the manager's questions. She was shy and soft-spoken but I thought she did a pretty good job. She thought so too and was glad for the experience. I knew ahead of time that my nephew was a friend of the manager of the store (she's the one who answered the phone). I told my nephew that my daughter applied but we did not want to "drop" names and get him involved. In no time at all, my nephew called his friend and, needless to say, he realized that I made the phone call for her. His advice to me was " Back off and let her do this on her own. She's old enough and capable of doing this."
   I realized my nephew was right. I had to tell my daughter that this was not a job she was getting and how, at this point, the experience was more important than getting the job. I also told her about my nephew's advice and that this was a very important lesson we both should learn.
   Last week, on her own, my daughter went to the Broadway.com office in Times Square because they were looking for fans of this site to make announcements of awards to Broadway actors that they were giving out. She wanted to be one of the announcers in the worst way. You have to understand that my daughter is an avid fan of Broadway shows and the actors and actresses involved in these shows. She has an uncanny knowledge of Broadway trivia. From the lesson we had just learned, she knew it was important to do this on her own. She did and was nervous but terribly excited. Broadway.com is one of her very favorite sites. She's on it every night after school. The result? Watch the site today (April 15, 2013) at 10 AM for the announcements. She's one of them. Thank you, dear nephew!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Going Way Way Back/ Part 2

2012-09-25T19:50:00.001-07:00

    A few days have passed since I started writing about the stories my mother and grandmother have told me. Since then, I had the chance to sit down again with my mother Helen for more of these. It is truly amazing how sharp my mother's memory is despite being 84 years old. She tells these stories with a great deal of fascinating details that you can't help but be the mesmerized audience. So here we go...
   As a young couple who had just started their family, my grandfather Isaac was given the opportunity to go up north to Manila to study. The rest of the family stayed in the southern part of the Philippines. The separation was a big sacrifice for everyone involved. I guess my grandparents knew that this education would prove to be a boon to their family in the long run. It sure was. When my grandfather Isaac came home, he was now armed with the level of education which allowed him to become the principal of the school. By this time, both my grandparents were fully entrenched in the educational field. They were both teachers, with my grandfather having the additional position of principal. The family lived a comfortable life. They had maids to help with the household chores but my grandmother insisted that my mother Helen and her 2 sisters (Mameng and Eidee) learned how to do their chores along side the household help. This would turn out to be a blessing in disguise in the very near future.
   World War II would soon turn my grandparents' lives upside down. At this point, my grandparents now had 4 children. My mother Helen was the oldest at 11 years old. 2 sisters (Tita Mameng and Tita Eidee) followed and they were 9 and 7. The youngest was my Uncle Yoyoy who was 5 years old. My grandfather Isaac was recruited by the US Armed Forces. Staying put was not an option because that would put the whole family at the mercy of the unthinkable cruelty that the Japanese could inflict on them. So, along with a very kind male relative, the whole family moved way up in the mountains where they knew the enemy forces did not dare venture into. My grandfather had built a hut with an underground bunker of sorts to hide necessary items like sugar, salt and, surprisingly, soap. Both my grandmother (Lola Ekiang) and mother (Helen) were meticulous about cleanliness. My mother told me that they were so high up in the mountains that the monkeys (and there were lots of them) were not dark but very light grey in color. My own logical unscientific explanation for this is that they were surrounded by so many tall trees that it was not difficult for these monkeys to stay in the shade and keep away from the burning rays of the sun. Some scientist somewhere will probably think this is the most insane explanation for the monkeys' color, but, at this point, all I care about is that my mother Helen thinks it makes sense.
   With no maids to help with the household chores, my mother Helen and her 2 sisters (Mameng and Eidee) along with my grandmother had to do all the work themselves. My grandfather (Isaac) was out fighting alongside the Americans. Being the oldest child meant that my mother was given the very important chore of cooking their meals. The 2 younger sisters always helped. Their experience of cooking at this young age made all 3 of them very good cooks later in life. My mother said that life was difficult but they made the most of it and were surprisingly happy. She lovingly tells the story of how my grandfather carved small wooden poles that fit their tiny hands. These "long" poles were used to pound grains of rice (a process needed to take the husk out of the rice grains before you could cook the rice). A huge wooden "bowl" was also carved out of a large tree trunk and this served as the container of the rice grains. My mother Helen and her 2 younger sisters (Mameng and Eidee) would then pound the grains with their poles. Picture a mortar and pestle! Weren't they an incredibly resourceful bunch? Incredibly, there was no shortage of food. They had to make everything from scratch but there was an abundance of root crops, fruits, vegetables and, from time to time, fish and meat. Julia Child would be proud of them.
   Laundry and hauling drinking water were 2 of the more difficult chores my mother and her 2 sisters had to do. According to my mother Helen, they had to go up a mountain and then down that mountain and walk to the lake where they did all the laundry by hand. They dried the clothes over big rocks that were around this lake. I imagine that while they were waiting for the clothes to dry, they most likely swam and played in this lake like anyone their age would do. The clothes had to be dry as wet clothes would be way too heavy to be bringing back as they climbed up the mountain.
   The war did not stop my grandparents from increasing the size of their family. 2 more children were born- Uncle Boboc and Tita Vicky. Then they added 2 more children - Uncle Langkoy and Tita Yanyan. That makes a total of 8 children. My mother Helen said she expressed her concerns about the work load of this growing family. She said her complaints were always given respectfully. Are you kidding me? I would have been livid and everyone within hearing distance would probably know it. It humors me to even think about my grandmother telling my mother that someday she too will understand her situation. And many years later, my mother would. After all, she (Helen) herself had 8 children. Situation understood!
   This was the kind of life my grandparents lived for the duration of the war. You know that saying "What doesn't kill you will make you stronger." is so true. This family endured the pain of war and came out of it a family with a solid foundation. I am quite certain that many families who have experienced war have had similar results. Part 3 will have more of mom's stories about what happens as the war comes to an end. Stay tuned.

Going Way Way Back Part 1

2012-09-03T08:45:00.000-07:00

My mother turned 84 this past May and my oldest brother (age 57) died suddenly in December 2011. With these events, I've realized that all of sudden it has become my responsibility to record and tell the wonderful stories my mother has told me all these years to the next generation. Being the oldest granddaughter though not the oldest grandchild gave me the privilege and honor of listening to both my mother and grandmother who were wonderful storytellers. Going way way back will, I hope, be of interest to my younger siblings, my nieces and nephews and, most especially, to my daughter. So, here goes....
My grandmother on my mother's side (Lola Ekiang Vasquez) was orphaned at the very young age of 10. With both parents gone, she went to stay with her aunt who was good to her. But her half-brother decided that she should stay with them. This half-brother's wife was cruel and mean to my grandmother. They made her do a whole lot of physical work without enough food for sustenance. Being hungry all the time while doing this kind of labor was extremely difficult. Don't forget this was a time when doing housework like cooking, laundry, planting, etc. was done without the benefit of machines to make the work manageable. This continued for several years. So much so that my grandmother remained slight in frame and frail all her life. She was always a beautiful but tiny woman. Her being slight in stature was not a hindrance to her determination to continue her education. There was a rich Chinese businessman in the town who was looking for a tutor for his children. My grandmother was a smart woman so this businessman accepted her for the position. This businessman's children were lucky to have my grandmother (whose real name was Eutiquia) as a tutor because she was brilliant in all the subjects, with an expertise in the English language. While doing this work, she went back to school to become a teacher. Armed with a 7th grade education, she took the teacher's certification exam and passed. She could now work as a teacher in school. This is exactly what she did. While working as a teacher, she met my grandfather (Isaac Moran). My mother did not tell me the details of their courtship but I remember vaguely some stories that my grandmother told me. My grandfather (Isaac) was tall and handsome so my grandmother was interested but always a little leery that he might not be the "faithful" husband she wanted. But love prevailed and they got married. Isn't this a sweet story? The tiny and frail princess with the handsome, tall, strong prince by her side going down the aisle to be married and joined forever as husband and wife. It gives me goosebumps just writing about it. Not long after they were married, my mother Helen was born. She would be the first of 10 children. The next 2 kids were born soon after Helen - Tita Mameng and Tita Eidee. Of the 10 kids, two would not make it to adulthood. These 2 were both girls named Delia. One died at 18 months. The other Delia was a beautiful beautiful beautiful baby who grew to become a beautiful 6 year old girl. She was not only beautiful but kind and so willing to help with all the work and did so with a wonderful disposition. My mother Helen always describes her in great detail and recalls her with such fondness. It isn't difficult to picture this beautiful child in my mind. At the age of 6, my beautiful Aunt Delia fell victim to one of those childhood diseases that, in those days, were killers. As I said earlier, my grandmother (Lola Ekiang) was fabulous with English, so my mother learned English at a very young age. My grandmother felt that learning English this young would give my mother an advantage over all the other students once she started school. She was so right. My mother continued with this belief in her own life and spoke to us when we were young only in English. We learned the native tongue by having friends in the neighborhood. The next blog will cover stories of how my mother and her siblings grew up during World War II. Stay tuned...

Discussing Mortality

2012-02-24T03:42:00.000-08:00

   Just using the "word" death in the title of this article conjures such sad images that I thought there was some degree of comfort in the term "mortality". Losing a loved one is never an easy part of life. For families who have children with special issues, discussion of the topic is an even more difficult situation. Dealing with it when it hits close to home heightens that difficulty. This past December I lost my older brother. He had, what everyone suspects, was an aneurism or a heart attack. He was only 57. Coincidentally, my father died when he was 56. My brother and his family live in California while the rest of us live here in the East Coast (New York and New Jersey). We all flew to California to find comfort in the presence of my brother's family and we hope we gave that to them as well. It would have been great to bring my daughter and husband with me but as things turned out, she had finals that week. She and I determined that it would be better for her to take the finals and get that over with rather than postpone them so she could come with me to California. The periods when she has exams are times when I make sure I am around my daughter to keep her focused and calm. So leaving, though unavoidable, was not easy. We all realized that being able to say goodbye to my brother was not just important but the right thing to do.
   Not too long after our return to New York, a young girl at my daughter's former high school (my daughter just started her freshman year at college) died suddenly in her sleep. Even though my daughter did not personally know this child, the fact that she was my daughter's age, knew friends of my daughter and went to the same high school made my kid face her own mortality. These 2 events that had to do with death scared her. So here I am with a child who is afraid to sleep, checking her heartbeat and pulse all the time, feels like she is sick and is crying about every little thing. What do I do? I am ill-equipped to handle the issue of death. I have never discussed this in a serious way with her. It didn't take long for me to come to the realization that a visit or two to her psychologist was going to be necessary. So was a trip to her doctor. We did these and, thankfully, they helped. It took time but they helped. The psychologist advised me that I needed to have a serious talk with my daughter about losing loved ones. The talk need not be morbid. It had to be based on what my family's beliefs and faith are. Not an easy task but one that had to be done.
    She and I got through this. She is now back in school for her second semester in college and is back to her happy self. What an ordeal this has been! I am looking forward to an easier 2012 and hope the same for all of you. Before I end, let me tell you how much I regret not making that trip to California to visit my brother and his family, while he was alive. I am a terrible traveler (as my sisters who traveled with me this past December will attest to) but that should not be an excuse. I hope he knows how much he was loved by his family and by me. God bless you, Manong Boyet, and rest in peace.

One More Step On That Ladder

2011-09-30T07:20:00.000-07:00

So here we are once more...Another school year starts and a new set of opportunities come with it. Along with that are challenges. As parents, I know this time of the year puts knots in our stomach. It is our hope that our children adjust to their new environment, make friends and look at these "challenges" as proof positive that they are moving up that ladder one step at a time. My daughter just started her freshman year in college. The school year began without the uneasiness and tears that usually accompany this period. For her, that is a huge accomplishment. The only explanation I have for this is that she has matured, grown older, and is more experienced in handling scenarios like this. That's not to say there have been no difficulties. In fact, this semester, she had to drop English. With Psychology, Math and a couple of other subjects, the load was more than she could handle. That decision was made by her. She still has to put in a lot of effort when it comes to studying. But that is standard MO for her. Social skills continue to be challenging. I know she is trying to make friends and I certainly hope she does meet new people. She has a long way to go. I hope this road she is on is lined with sweet-smelling roses. From time to time, those damn "thorns" will pop up and I'm praying that those won't stop her from getting to where she wants to go. Good luck my wonderful daughter.

Endings

2011-08-05T07:53:00.000-07:00

I wasn't really sure how to title this article, but now I think "endings" is as good as any. My daughter has come so far in her ability to make friends that this summer has been filled with activities involving going out with them. It has been such a thrill as a parent to watch this happening right before my eyes. Like any parent, her joy is my joy. This past week-end we were at a party at my sister's house when my daughter got a text from one of her friends. She considered this girl a good friend. In fact, at every one of my daughter's birthday parties, she was always invited. If I remember correctly, she came to every one of them except maybe one. So when it was time to put together a half-page for their yearbook, she decided to include a small photograph of a group picture that included this girl. There were other people in this half-page and all were thrilled to be in it. My daughter was so proud to have these friends and family in her life. She thought it was important enough to document it in her yearbook. Well, this girl texted my daughter about being upset about being in this yearbook. Needless to say, my daughter was distraught about her reaction. Neither she nor I could believe what we both read. I was so upset that this incident had caused her buckets of tears. It was a hurtful and unnecessary. The only way to make sense of this reaction and to comfort my daughter was to stay calm. I know this girl has some difficulties to deal with in her life and that is probably why she reacted the way she did. This is what I told my daughter. In time, it was an explanation that she could accept. The tears stopped. The "friend" texted several times to apologize. And my daughter has moved on. She continues to enjoy this wonderful hot summer. I'm sure this girl and my daughter will run into each other and I trust my daughter will be civil to her. In fact, I'm sure she will. However, this "friendship" will not be the same and will take time to repair. In a way, it is an "ending". One door closes, another one opens.

An Incident in the Park

2011-07-12T05:10:00.000-07:00

My very good friend and I have made the decision that years of eating too much and too little exercise have finally caught up with us. It is time to buckle down and face the fact that serious action has to be taken. So, for 2 weeks now, we started counting calories and taking walks. Needless to say, getting to that goal will be a very very slow process. Discouraged? No, we are not. We have been walking in this little park on Greenway South in Forest Hills (in the Gardens). It is a beautiful and very small park with a few benches. I have passed this park and sat in these benches to rest many times. During the early hours in the morning, I used to see elderly Asian men and women doing Tai-chi. I haven't seen them recently. That I attributed to the fact that I no longer pass that street that early. Now that walking has become part of our exercise, we decided to use this little park. We walk about 3 or 4 times a week. The walks average about 45 minutes. Other than yesterday, these were without incident. Yesterday, New York was experiencing a heat wave. We walked a few minutes and decided to sit for a few minutes to catch our breath. A security officer (or maybe a cop, I'm not sure which one he was) approached us and asked us if we were residents of the Gardens. Lying was not an option ever. It never is to us. So we told him, we live right outside the Gardens. He told us this park (which is not walled off or fenced in) is only for residents of the Gardens. Being the non-confrontational people that we are, we stood and left but not without telling him that we were shocked by this information. I told him I saw no sign that said that. I have never seen a sign saying this was a private park. He pointed to a sign which was a sign about the private parking on these streets. I knew about that. As we looked around, I saw a sign which was not very big, that did say this was a private park open only to the residents. I had never seen this sign before. To keep other people who are not being disruptive from using this wonderful resource is cruel and hurtful. That's how we felt as we were walking away from the park. I feel ashamed to be part of a neighborhood that acts this way. It is, to me, snobbery at its best. The residents of the Gardens should re-consider the way their rules are being enforced. I am truly saddened by this incident at the park.

A Milestone Event

2011-06-28T21:38:00.000-07:00

June 28, 2011 - A very important date in my daughter's life, hence, a very important date in my life (in her parents' lives). Today, my daughter graduated from the most wonderful performance high school one can dream of (Frank Sinatra School of Performing Arts). This public school is a gem of an institution in a city filled with both challenges and opportunities. The graduation ceremonies were attended by Tony Bennett and his wife Susan, Harry Belafonte and his wife, Peter Vallone Jr. , Helen Marshall (Queens Borough President, Donna Finn (the principal), the staff and teachers of the school and hundreds of parents and relatives. But to us, the star of that ceremony was our daughter. Her walking on that stage and being handed her diploma was the culmination of almost 13 years of hard work. If you have read my other blogs, you know that this day was at one time long long ago a dream that could never have been on our horizon. Who changed all that? My daughter changed that. She showed the courage and determination to achieve her dreams. I'm sure she didn't want to disappoint us, but more importantly, she did not want to disappoint herself. Who else changed our mind and made sure our daughter's dreams were in fact within her reach? The wonderful people at that school. They supported her in ways that, I'm sure, went way beyond their job descriptions. This is a school that you need to audition for to get in. For them to take a chance with my daughter was an incredible leap of faith. I assured them at every parent teacher conference that my daughter would be one hell of a student who would give them more than a thousand percent effort in everything they asked of her. I know she did exactly that. I owe this school a debt of gratitude for giving my daughter what she needs and wants to move ahead and forge on. Thank you so much to all of you at Frank Sinatra and congratulations to all the graduates of 2011.

An Unforgettable Reunion

2011-04-20T08:41:00.000-07:00

Washington DC was the setting of choice for the mid-April reunion of a bunch of young girls who graduated high school in the Philippines in 1973. This has become a yearly event for us for quite some time. Monetary and time constraints have made it impossible for me to attend every single one. However, I have managed to attend the previous Florida and New York reunions. This latest one in DC was special because it was an opportunity to bring my mother and daughter. A number of my classmates brought their spouses and one other classmate brought her mother. My mother who will soon be 83 was thrilled to see all my classmates. There was a connection with all of them. It was inevitable that she knew someone in each of their families. I also wanted my daughter to meet the wonderful women I grew up with. Then there is the education that travelling gives her. DC in particular is so terrific for that because of all the museums they offer. This is a time when she learns to be more flexible with a lot of aspects of her life, including her schedule and her food. In addition, this was another opportunity for her to hone her social skills. In my eyes, she passed with flying colors.
Seeing all my classmates is really like going to the fountain of youth. When you first see each other, it brings you back to your high school days. You look around and even though we are all in our young 50's, it feels like we are back to a time when the nuns used to tell us our skirts were too short and we needed to submit a whole bunch of term papers. The reunion was filled with laughter and shared experiences. We have different situations but share the feeling of treasuring our past and loving our families and friends. How wonderful it has been to get to see these terrific people. Having my mom and daughter along for the ride is icing on the cake. This was A TRULY UNFORGETTABLE REUNION.

Her Friends, My Friends, Our Friends

2011-03-09T05:40:00.000-08:00

For many of my friends, the social component of our kids' lives has proven to be marked with challenges. As parents and particularly as mothers, we do everything we can to help along the way. Part of that means finding each other as friends. That inevitably has led to our kids finding each other as friends. Every get-together means a lot. It doesn't matter how "insignificant" the event might seem to others. To us, it is important and we make time for every opportunity to socialize. These get-togethers have proven to be fun and a wonderful source of support for the parents. More importantly, they are loads of fun for our kids. This past week-end was the birthday of one of the kids and it was a bowling party. I happen to really enjoy bowling even though that appreciation for the sport and my ability do not match up. Bowling was followed by a fabulous dinner at the celebrant's home. Their hospitality is unbelievable. Now, this was a very "significant" time. Having a good time is contagious and something we all need. It's something our kids need. So, my friends, let's raise our glass to many many more of these get-togethers.

Making Time for What Matters

2011-01-19T11:40:00.000-08:00

The holidays are finally over. They are always a very special time of the year despite how hectic and stressful they can be. Once they are over and times get calmer, I always find myself thinking about the year that passed and how I could have made it a better year for my family, friends and myself. Inevitably, it always comes back to "more time should have been spent with family and friends". Work takes up so much of our lives. For those of us fortunate enough to have jobs, we work at least 8 hours a day. As mothers, our day doesn't end with that because most of us still have to make dinner, take care of kids and all those endless chores. Even if we have jobs, we all worry about whether those jobs will continue to be there so, usually, if overtime is needed we agree to it. Those who are currently not working are just as busy going on interviews and looking for jobs. Being New Yorkers, we are used to this lifestyle. Nevertheless, it doesn't change the fact that I feel I haven't made as much of an effort to spend time with those that mean so much to me. In the end, this is what matters most anyway. So, to my friends and family, be warned. I am going to be calling you guys to come over so I can cook for you, be around you and have fun with you. If the thought of my cooking turns you off, we could, of course, go out to eat, the movies,etc. Whatever the activity, I would like to look back at the end of this year and know that we added to that treasure chest of memories by spending time with each other.

Self-esteem and Self-confidence

2011-01-05T11:28:00.000-08:00

These two simple words have such importance in the lives of our children especially as they get ready to join the world of adults. Their importance is in marked contrast to their elusiveness. My extremely shy daughter (as well as quite a few of her friends) has had to work so hard to find some modicum of self-esteem and self-confidence especially in school. At home, she is a person who is so sure of what she knows and does not have to be prodded to share that information with us. There was such a delay in her language that we prayed for the day when conversations with her would come naturally. As I had mentioned in previous blogs, our efforts were concentrated in developing language and communication skills. Those efforts have paid off and as long as she is comfortable with the people she is with and with her environment, she can be a real chatterbox. There are days when we can't move ahead with homework because she is talking about this or that extensively. The tutor and I look at each other, both frustrated at wanting to have her do school work but not having the nerve to interrupt this wonderful conversation which has nothing to do with the work required at the moment. Being pretty conscientious with her schoolwork, she does, in time, find her way back to doing her homework. Despite the wonderful progress in this area, she still needs to find a way to be comfortable in her own skin and be confident in her ability to do things. I realize that as one gets older (especially when you pass that good old 50 year old mark), this happens almost naturally. But wouldn't it be great if our kids could feel that way without going overboard and getting cocky? These kids are such a talented bunch. What they have in common is that they are quite unaware of how bright they are. Why is self-confidence so elusive to them? Dance and drama classes have been extremely important and successful in helping my daughter feel good about herself. The experience of writing for her school newspaper is another fabulous aspect of her life. Her working at the nursing home during the summer, hopefully, shows her that she can be helpful to others. Being her mother, I will continue to explore more ways to expose her to activities that will be crucial in making her see how special she is. But perhaps self-esteem and self-confidence are just something that she will find on her own time and on her own terms.

The Season of Friendship

2010-12-21T13:55:00.000-08:00

This holiday season is a time to celebrate so many things--health, happiness, children, families, peace, financial stability, etc. Almost at the top of that list is friendship. It doesn't matter if you treasure the relationship with one friend, 2 friends, 3 friends, 10 friends or 100 friends. These are relationships that make us who we are. Relationships like this are a support system so crucial to everyone but more so for families that have children who learn learn differently. I am one of those very fortunate people who has friends with whom I share this common interest -- the desire to make the lives of our children the very best that it can be. To thank these friends, I try to have a get-together to show them just how grateful I am for their friendship. That's what we did this past week-end. In our very small home, we squeezed about 18 people and shared experiences, food and laughter. The kids get the chance to see each other and hone their social skills. They are free to be themselves and so are their parents. In talking about our children, we realized (although we've really known this for years) how talented they are and, more importantly, how beautiful their souls are. One kid is a whiz about World War II and history. Another one is one hell of an artist. I think his work should be in a museum someday. I love his work so much that I transferred an image on a t-shirt. If I ever learn how to silkscreen on fabric, I am going to ask him for permission to use his artwork on one-of-a-kind shirts. Isn't this a great business idea? A very good friend's daughters have the best manners and behavior any one could dream of. Courtesy of their mother, they are the best-dressed young ladies I know. They are a joy to have as guests. My daughter is a terrific writer with her own column in their school newspaper (forgive this proud parent for tooting her own horn). Another friend's child is also a seriously talented artist who made a Christmas card using his artwork with his own poem as the message. Let me share a couple of lines from his poem.
"I am in a blank world
Everything is white
I am the only one with color
Everything is quiet.

Oh winter Oh winter
A season of cold
Filled with silence
May all provide yourselves with warmth."

THIS HOLIDAY SEASON IS TRULY THE SEASON OF FRIENDSHIP.

Our Inclusion Story

2010-12-01T05:55:00.000-08:00

Our inclusion story begins with the unbelievable joy of adding our daughter to our family. Despite the challenges of being new to parenting, there was no doubt that having our daughter would make life fulfilling. Little did we know that an autism diagnosis would test our abilities as parents to think, work hard and be creative. Although she met those typical milestones, my daughter's communication skills seemed to fall behind those of other kids. With nowhere else to go and no knowledge of what our options were, we felt we had no choice but to accept a placement in a special ed segregated class. She was loved and nurtured in this school. But, in my eyes, this was not enough to get her to achieve her highest potential. No matter what the evaluations may have shown, I believed in my child's intelligence. She had it in her but someone had to come up with a method to bring that to the forefront. Someone other than her parents needed to believe in her. I found that in Myra Rodriguez, the inclusion coordinator, who was crucial in opening an inclusion program at the elementary school we eventually moved my daughter to. A new program will always have kinks that have to be ironed out. This school was no exception. But the positives certainly outweighed the negatives. Having the program in place is not enough. Parents' involvement is a big factor that contributes to the success of the program. Fortunately, we had that in this school (Thanks to the tremendous efforts put in by my wonderful friends Sandra and Joe.). My daughter did wonderfully at the inclusion program in elementary school. She had to work very hard to keep up with the academics. This included an average of 3 to 3-1/2 hours of studying every day. With the opportunity to socialize, her language skills improved by leaps and bounds. This development was almost inevitable. Her language skills had to get better if she was to make and keep her friends. And she definitely wanted to make friends. In fact, to this day, she keeps in touch with friends she has had since elementary school. In terms of academics, with tutoring and help from the inclusion teacher as well as the general ed teachers, she was able to stay on top of the curriculum. She did all her homework and passed all the tests required. Before the end of 6th grade, even with some trepidation, we felt confident enough to take her out of inclusion and make her part of the general ed population.
Middle school transition was not easy. Then again, transition for our kids, mine in particular, has always been met with great difficulty. The much bigger population and hectic schedule was something she had to get used to. It took a while to do that. Once again, she was fortunate enough to have supportive people in school. The principal, assistant principal, guidance counselor, resource teacher, all her teachers and the staff looked out for her and did everything they could to ensure her success. Graduation from middle school led to high school at Frank Sinatra School of Performing Arts. My daughter is currently a senior at this school and is looking forward to college. She has already passed all the tests required to get her regents diploma and has had an average of 85 throughout her years in high school. She is in the drama studio in this school which means they are required to perform in front of an audience. Part of her extra curricular activities includes writing for the school newspaper. She writes reviews of Broadway shows. The school was originally in Long Island City until last year when they opened their new campus in Astoria. This means she has to commute via subway on her own. Outside of school life, she continues with dance classes and is on her 12th year in this dance academy. Where she is now would never have been possible without the foundation provided by the INCLUSION PROGRAM. Inclusion gave her the chance to move into the general ed setting without making it too drastic of a move. It also provided the crucial support system needed for success at the same time pushing her to reach for that seemngly impossible goal. Inclusion was the stepping stone to a more independent general ed situation where, hopefully, success would continue. This journey is not over and will continue to be one that will require a lot of effort but the foundation that inclusion has provided makes me feel confident that the future is bright. THANK YOU TO ALL WHO MADE INCLUSION POSSIBLE IN OUR SCHOOLS.

We've Turned Into Our Parents

2010-11-20T16:01:00.000-08:00

As a teenager, like most teens these days, I thought my parents were old-fashioned and so behind the times. I was raised by pretty religious parents who were quite strict about partying, staying out late and dating. They did provide a loving and happy environment for all 8 of their children. Theirs was a generation that believed in huge families. Most of my classmates and friends all came from families just as large as ours. I grew up in the Philippines so there was a great deal of respect for anyone who was older. So teachers, parents, uncles, aunts, and grandparents were held in high regard. Or maybe we were just brought up to be afraid of making them angry? That's not to say we didn't get into trouble with our parents. We would get scolded and then be asked this question- "What do you have to say for yourself?". Any attempt to answer them would get "You have the nerve to say something! Be quiet!". That's kind of confusing, isn't it? Do they or do they not want an answer to their question. In exchanging complaints with friends, I realized that there were some lines that all our parents used. One good one had to do with food. We were all asked to finish every little bit of food on our plate because "there were a lot of starving children in this world and we were lucky to have what we had". Thus started the bad habit of eating more than what our bodies really needed. Little did we know that this bad habit would be carried into adulthood and be the cause of weight problems. There was also that never-ending need for us to look neat and "polished". I promised myself that I would be a very different kind of parent when the time came. That time is here and I have discovered that I have more in common with my parents than what I would like to think. I give my daughter a little leeway when it comes to presenting her side of things but in my head all I can think is "the nerve of this little child to answer back. Hush and be quiet and do what I want you to do." My daughter's generation is blessed with the confidence to feel that they have an opinion worth expressing. As long as she talks to us respectfully, we don't have a problem with this. In a perfect world, this would be how it is all the time. Since it is not a perfect world, we have times when the exchange of ideas is "animated" (to put it lightly). I know as she gets older, this will happen less and she will, in fact, see how we,as parents, did the best we could. My parents taught us lessons that are so valuable even if we didn't think so back then. Most important among them are patience, tolerance and love. My mom had to do double duty since my dad died when I was in my mid twenties. It's shame my dad never got to see his children raise their children almost the same way he did. These parents of ours actually knew what they were doing. Thanks, Mom and Dad.

The Stigma of Seeing a Psychiatrist or Psychologist

2010-11-09T07:01:00.000-08:00

Hollywood and its movies have made seeing a "shrink" glamorous and very cool. But most of us still feel quite a stigma when we have to see either a psychiatrist or psychologist. We all go through rough spots in our lifetime. Some of those difficult times can be so hard that a perspective from someone outside of our personal connections would most likely be very helpful. Part of my daughter's therapy repertoire included sessions with a speech therapist and a child psychologist. From about age 6 to 8, the sessions were done on a regular basis. Because of her age, I was always in the room with her. For the speech sessions, the therapist normally took the child into the room alone. I begged her to let me in the room so I could observe. She allowed that on condition that I did not interrupt the session and was absolutely quiet. I jumped at the chance to learn how to carry on the work that she did in that room and follow through at home. The same agreement was made with her psychologist. These sessions although directed to my daughter felt like they were meant for me. It was amazing how much the psychologist could bring to light. She helped me see that certain events triggered stress and worry for my daughter. By observation and through her explanations, she provided a way to solve or modify behavior issues. Along with all the other activities that served as therapy, these sessions were important factors in allowing my daughter to achieve her goals. She is aiming higher and, to that end, we will continue the visits to the therapist. Like everyone else, her life experiences have been both good and bad. Either way and especially for particularly bad experiences, sessions with a therapist have been helpful in finding the right strategy that would allow her to deal with such a situation. It is the kind of help that my daughter needed, inspite of and despite our best parental efforts. We were more than willing and happy to make sure that this help was available to her. As a young woman, her sessions are private and confidential. I have always been a pretty nosey mother so I always ask her what they talked about. She tells me only when she feels okay about telling me and I leave it at that, although I would really really prefer if she told me everything in detail. With a lot of restraint on my part, I let her have her privacy. There is no doubt in my mind that talking to her therapists and her guidance counselors has served my daughter well. I hope your experience puts us on the same side of the road.