A brief story about Chris.

My son Chris attends Giant Steps Tasmania, an autism specific school located in Deloraine (a rural community 50 km away.) It was founded in 1995 by a small group of very dedicated and politically savvy parents of autistic children and Chris was an early enrolment, starting in its second year. It had a shaky start financially, but is now growing and extending its enrolment to adults and pre-school programmes. It will never be big, but it delivers a quality program and it came along at just the right time for us. I will always be grateful for that - and for the bus the school finally bought so we no longer had to car pool to get the children to and from school.

Chris was a full-time day student until he turned 19 (in 2007) and then was offered a place two days a week with the fledgling adult group.

This group has grown this year, and we were lucky to apply for and receive additional funding for him to attend three days a week. He spends the rest of the week at the Day support program his group home runs - and comes home for the weekends.

One of the many imaginative (through necessity ) fund raisers Giant Steps introduced was called Sponsor-a-Child and over the years it has brought in several thousand dollars.

Twice a year the students' parents are asked to write a short update about their child's progress and it is sent out to the sponsors in the form of an open letter (with an accompanying photo).

I usually find myself scratching my head to find something to write about, but inspiration came a little easier this time. Here it is - I hope you enjoy it and if it aids in your understanding about living with autism, that's a bonus.


Chris in 1998. A rare shot of him engaging with the camera

Chris in 2010. You can see his Lightwriter on his lap. It's a voice output device and he wears it on a strap around his waist.

_______________________________

Sponsor a child update May 2011

Chris spent the extended Easter break at home this year, and we took the opportunity to have his hair cut and to refresh his wardrobe.

His father took him for the haircut and I drew the short- ish straw: buying the clothes. Not my favourite job after we lost him in town when he was nine years old. But that’s another story.*

The haircut

When Chris was very young we used to put off cutting his hair until it was so long he could barely see through his fringe. Haircutting was such an ordeal for him – and us. He couldn’t stand being draped with the nylon gown, seeing his reflection in the mirror, hearing the sound of the scissors close to his ears or having to sit still while the hairdresser cut his hair. These are not sensations that bother a neurotypical person, but can be very distressing for the Autistic individual.

Inevitably there were some rather lop sided cuts over the years, but these are rare now. He tolerates being draped, so long as his hands are left free. He still looks away from the mirror to avoid his reflection but he finds the buzz of the hair clippers surprisingly soothing. Mind you, cutting around his ears is not for the faint hearted – but his hairdressers have learned to be quick.

This week’s haircut was happily quite painless. I’m told even the hairdresser was smiling at the end.

Clothes shopping

Chris came home with rips to two pairs of pants and his pyjamas, so all needed replacing. He and his brother were of a size not too long ago. But Nick is taller now and can no longer try things on for the both of them. As much as I would have preferred to shop without him, there was no avoiding it this time. I would have to take Chris shopping.

But where to go?

Chris finds going to large stores terribly exciting, but I don’t like taking him there for that very reason. He is distractible at the best of times, but department stores put him into sensory overload with their sheer size, massive displays, bright colours, noise levels and plain busy-ness.

We needed something quieter, less stimulating for this expedition to work, so I opted for a local men’s wear store, which we visited at a quiet time of day.

What a difference it made! Not only did I not have to search the racks for the right style and size, but the staff could not have been more helpful to us. When I explained that Chris cannot manage a zippered fly, they searched and found two elastic waisted trousers that turned out to be perfect for him.

So half an hour later we left the store with everything on our list. It might have cost a few dollars more than a chain store, but the experience was almost … dare I say it, a pleasant one.

When he returns to Giant Steps after Easter, he’ll look very sharp indeed.

* I'll tell that story one day.