Sunday, November 9, 2014

A Call to an "Autism" Sorority

This is a response to sorority Alpha Xi Delta over their support of Autism Speaks.  Currently, during the murders of London McCabe by his mother, his father asks that all donations in respect to him go to the Autistic Self-Advocacy Network or the Dan Marino Foundation.  I put this up in response wondering if AZD truly cares about “the children” as they say they do.

Higher Priorities

How many Alpha Xi Delta chapter heads does it take to screw in a light bulb?

Because in their world, lightbulbs were never invented
because no one existed to invent them.
And yes, bring on the “fuck you’s,” and rolling your eyes
because in four years, your letters will go in a box,
but our lives will live on forever.
And you may become mothers of children, even autistic children,
and then where will that have gotten you?
We are the Autistic Self-Advocacy Network,
with support and activities,
a place where we all meet new friends for life,
doing real philanthropy,
giving each other support to help reach our dreams and goals.
Our colors: the colors of the rainbow;
our symbol: the symbol of infinity;
our mascot: any animal really-we autistics can sometimes relate to them;
our flower: flowers for the autistics dead by filicide on National Day of Mourning
with chapters through Kansas City, York, Michigan, Australia, New Zealand, and Oregon;              
with headquarters in our nation’s capital,
our motto, “Nothing about us without us;”
founded in 2006
by autistic collegiates;
our minimum GPA: none-you don’t even have to be in school;
our costs: none, though donations are welcome;
our letters: whatever letters are necessary to raise our voice.
Parties, glamor affairs, alcohol: these are not for me, thank you.
I don’t care too much about how I dress, and I don’t feel the need for acceptance in this mass consumer culture.
I don’t feel the need for others to know what I’ve done.
I wear no mark of dignity on my sleeve.
I am proud in myself, giving while others are sleeping, rocking in my own skin.
Nature, poetry, movement, and the arts: these all inspire me.
Needing only to go where women are as they appear in mirrors and want what they speak for.
I consider myself akin to all who care what is good and pure in this world,
taking a paddle to discrimination.
Not a Greek organization: we are a Turkish organization.
And caring and support are its pledge,
becoming members for life.
These are my brothers and sisters.

Autistic Pride Day Song

I would never want to be someone I’m not,
and leave my own self just to rot.
I am autistic and proud.
I’ll say it out loud.
We are human first.
We’ve been through the worst.
I can live just as good a life if the chance is given.
Better, if I am that driven.
I don’t need to ne neurotypical if I am to heal
or pomp from celebrities and sex appeal.
Our services are where we should be investing,
not in genetic testing.
A person’s abilities are not a choice.
We together are our greatest voice.

Too Young, Too Young

London McCabe and Jude Mirra: young boys I never knew, much too young, much too young.
Could I meet the young men of which they never grew, much too young, much to young.

They had no voice,
or if they did, it didn’t stop them from meeting this fate, much too young, much to young.

Painkillers in drinks and a fall from a bridge,
the thought that the mothers tried to prevent a bad future seems of great debate, much too young, much too young.

While services are behind,
a rescuer has shown up too late, much too young, much too young.

London had many willing surrogates,
but his mother’s drive was much too great, much too young, much to young.

Hate the mother, hate the child;
there’s always hate, much too young much too young.

An Autism Organization Like a Date

You sit by the movie theater
waiting for your date.
He was going to meet you at lunch a movie.
He said he’d meet you at 3:30.
You are as anxious as ever.

3:30 arrives.
You expect to see him.  It’s ok.  He’s only a minute late.

Don’t worry, you tell yourself, He’s probably just running behind.

You’re anxious but you decide to wait for him a little longer.

You’re telling yourself he’ll be there.  Just wait a little longer.

You realize it’s too late to get dinner and a movie, but you can still see the movie if he gets here in five minutes.

You call your date just to let him know you thought you were meeting today at 3:30, wondering if something came up and you hope to see him soon.

He hasn’t called or texted you.
You are a little annoyed because you paid for the ticket,
drove all the way out here,
and spent hours on your hair and make-up,
and still he hasn’t shown up or called.
He’ll be there.  We can still go out.  It will be just the same, you assure yourself.

Still waiting on the bench, you decide to take a walk around the strip mall.
You walk by a bar: there he is,
kissing the girl who gave you hell since first grade.
You decide it’s ok.  He says he loves me.
I don’t want to rock the boat by hurting him,
He said he’d show up, but he never has.

Autism Speaks is the rude date.
Those who depend on them are the girl.

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