At The Intersection of Disability and Injustice

The Christmas truce was a series of widespread, unofficial ceasefires that took place along the Western Front around Christmas 1914, during World War I. Through the week leading up to Christmas, parties of German and British soldiers began to exchange seasonal greetings and songs between their trenches; on occasion, the tension was reduced to the point that individuals would walk across to talk to their opposite numbers bearing gifts. On Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, many soldiers from both sides – as well as, to a lesser degree, from French units – independently ventured into "no man's land", where they mingled, exchanging food and souvenirs. As well as joint burial ceremonies, several meetings ended in carol-singing. Troops from both sides were also friendly enough to play games of football with one another.[1]

- Wikipedia

I met James Gallini, Esquire, at the intersection of disability and injustice, during a moment of truce in the Autism Wars. The truce occurred without fanfare, appropriately in December, just as the holiday hustle and rush began. James was standing across the virtual crossroad, firmly and passionately fighting for justice for his client, Emily Holcomb. He stood and fought, as his wife very aptly put it, like Gandalf staring down the Balrog  on the Bridge of Khazad-dûm and shouting “You Shall Not Pass!” at the horrible injustice brandishing evil at his nonspeaking autistic client.  I have written about Emily’s nightmare indirectly through a discussion of her mother Jenny Holcomb here.  James finds discussions on his career accomplishments boring and dismissive of his clients. But he is not aware that the desperate crisis of Emily Holcomb was the instigating factor in the Christmas truce of the Autism Wars. It began a series of episodic ceasefires during which our entire community put aside differences and came down on injustice by the hundreds in anger and shock, campaigning united against autistic people being harmed at school and denied care in hospitals.  As a result, I met a valued colleague and accepted him, as he was, never asking whether he espoused the medical or social justice model of disability, simply accepting that in that moment, we sought the same thing, to keep autistic people safe from deadly harm and wrongful imprisonment.

Very much like those men in the trenches, I crossed the invisible line to no man’s land and began discussing matters of people I advocated for and asking James for referrals when these families needed legal help and were in other States. Each time, he did his best to help me find resources, when others were just too self-important to bother. Therefore, I was able to see him as a colleague and friend.

James Gallini’s passion for special education law comes from his love of his family. I am fortunate enough to see that in a slew of photographs, the look of love and pride on his face as he stands with his family for a holiday photo, hugging his sons before they leave for church in their Sunday best, or a quick photo of James endeavoring to teach his beautiful autistic daughter the finer points of bowling.  He didn’t have to tell me he loves his family. Each photo made that apparent.  One day I read that James and Jenifer decided to compromise on their daughter’s wish for Christmas in July. They compromised, and made Christmas happen in her bedroom complete with blow up Santa and that did it for me. She was happy, they were happy. I was happy.  I knew in my heart that these parents loved and more importantly listened to their autistic daughter. They acknowledged her input. They loved her. In a world where the sleepless depressed parents fan the flames of their discontent by gathering in groups to drown in misery and blame it on autism, the refreshing nature of this family warmed my heart almost as much as Jenny Holcomb did doing the requisite redecorating of her daughter’s room to make it as grown up as Emily is becoming. Just as any mother would do for a teenaged daughter. No infantilizing.

And so, I have come to realize that I must navigate the no mans land more often and look at people for who they are and what they do rather than accept my preconceived opinion of what they may stand for ideologically. Just see how they actually behave and speak about their autistic loved ones. Love can’t be hidden. Passion for justice is apparent. And James Gallini has both. If only more special education attorneys were more concerned about their clients and less concerned with establishing a relationship with the school district, the educational life of our children would be perfect.

Please welcome the very brave James Gallini, Esq., his lovely wife Jenifer, and their four wonderful children, into our autism advocacy community. There were always here. If you hear a cease-fire moment in the Autism Wars, walk to the middle of the intersection of disability and injustice. They will be standing on the side of justice, and you will all see them as I do.


Much love

This is the third segment in a series on people who need to be recognized for the work they continue to do for the betterment of the autism community.

Mother's Day

Today finds me going back to why I felt the need to write a blog in the first place, and where I want to take the blog from here. It is sometimes a good thing to hit the brakes on what I'm doing, look to see where I am going and decide if I really am in such a hurry to get there.

My original purpose in writing this blog was to have a body of work for my son and my immediate family. This body of work was to be a clear statement of how I felt about my son being autistic. It was to make it apparent how much I loved him.  It was meant as a vehicle for everyone to know my wish that he be as autonomous as he is capable of being.  This body of work should make it clear to any reader:

• Our son is loved unconditionally. He is not loved despite his autism diagnosis.
• I have faith in our son and presume he is competent even when others do not.
• Whatever advocacy work I do is done to gain acceptance, inclusion, and accommodation for our son and those like him.
• That my purpose is to stand by my son and not have anything I do, including advocacy, overshadow that critical purpose.

This blog was to be proof of how proud I am to be his mother, and what an amazing person I believe he is. Mustafa has great creativity, determination, and strength of purpose. These qualities are laudable in any human being, but in him they are opening the way for him to succeed in a world where he is seen as less than the least of God's children, because he is a minority even among his peers. So as he fights for mastery over his environment, it is my task as his mother to fight for a rightful place in society for him.

I decided to set the direction of The Autism Wars blogs back on that course. To that end, I am choosing topics I think are important to him, and people I think are role models for him and examples of what we all can be as advocates ourselves.

 Today I decided to talk about people who fit that criteria; those who quietly wage war against great odds for neurodiverse adults and children, and continue to speak out and fight for all people on the autism spectrum while seeking justice for their own children and loved ones. Since it is Mother's Day, let's start this new journey with two amazing Autism Moms who don't blog.

Andre McCollins and Mom Cheryl in happier times

Cheryl McCollins fought for 10 years to have the video of her son Andre’s torture at the Judge Rotenberg Center released to the press. She continues to fight to close the ‘school’. Cheryl sued the JRC for the funding Andre will need for his care the rest of his life. Andre has never recovered. Cheryl joined protesters outside the JRC and continues to use her voice to speak out against JRC and the torture of young Autistic people in the name of discipline. Cheryl even created a petition on Change.org asking for support in demanding the State of New York cease sending students to this center.

Emily Holcomb and Mom Jenny Parker Holcomb,
photo courtesy of the Holcomb Family

Jenny Parker Holcomb was completing an IEP meeting for her daughter Emily when the sheriff's department appeared with a police complaint against her daughter, accusing Emily of slapping a teacher. Jenny had to explain that Emily was on the profound ray of the autism spectrum, nonspeaking, with intellectual disability. Emily had been so mistreated at her school placement that at one point she was restrained for 55 minutes by staff. With the help of special education attorney, activist, and father of a child with autism James Gallini, Jenny began the fight for Emily's future. Lydia Brown, who read about Emily's situation on Landon Bryce's ThAutcast blog, offered to write a petition on Change.org and that petition began a social media crisis that no one was prepared for. Assault charges against Emily were dropped. Emily has since thrived in an appropriate educational placement and community activities that give her the life skills training she needs to transition to adulthood and autonomy. Jenny realized from Emily's own horrific experience that this should never happen to anyone else. She has since led parent support groups and online action groups, empowering other parents to stand with their children and take on whoever abuses them.

Happy Mother's Day

This is the first segment in a series on people who need to be recognized for the work they continue to do for the betterment of the autism community.

Note: James Gallini, Landon Bryce, Emily Titon, Shain Neumeir are names you should know. They play very important roles in these stories, as you'll see later.

White Polo Shirts, Autistic Eyes

Multiracial boy whistling, sitting on brown leather chair  wearing a white polo shirt

 with the words "stand against restraints, seclusion, and bullying by teachers" 
© Kerima Cevik

About a week ago I was looking for a recent picture of my son stimming as my annual contribution to Paula Durbin-Westby's Autism Acceptance Year site, and came across one of my favorite recent photos of him. I decided that this would be his official Autism Acceptance Month photo this year. But why I made this decision requires the story of how he came to be the proud owner of what I believe is the only white polo shirt with the provocative words "Stand Against Restraint, Seclusion, and Bullying by Teachers" manufactured anywhere, to date.  That slogan was emblazoned on t-shirts and is now part of the history of the protests brought to the very door of the Judge Rotenberg Center in the course of a valiant war to release one of the few tapes of sustained torture that survived the purging of evidence related to charges brought against the center over  the many years of its existence. So here is the story.

Mustafa was one of the first customers to order a t-shirt created by autistic activist Lydia Brown, for those of us who were families fighting against the maltreatment of autistic children in school placements of all kinds. By this time Emily Holcomb was safe and Chris Baker's petition letter was being passed through all internet social networking channels. No one knew that  Cheryl McCollins would come down like the wrath of the Lord on the JRC in court and request the court release the video of the hours of torture her son Andre suffered at the hands of staff to the media. Everyone got their new t-shirts and was happy. The problem was, once the shirt was on him, Mu would not take it off. As happens with some children, he liked the shirt and wanted that shirt on every day. Of course, it began to fade from frequent washing. And there was no guarantee that he would like a new identical t-shirt as much. More importantly, he needed to dress more formally for some of the places we were going and that t-shirt was too casual. I posed the problem to Lydia and asked if they could do me a favor that might make both Mu and me happy.  The result is the white polo shirt in the photo above. Even though the writing beautifully stitched on the right breast area makes special needs service professionals wince, they regularly compliment him on the how great the white shirt looks against his dark tan complexion.

The magnitude of what this photograph means to me becomes clear when it is realized that although Mu did not choose to stop whistling while I was taking the photo, he did look right at the camera. He is, by nature, someone who does not look directly at anyone, so when he does it means you have been given a gift. This is also the first photo in which he is beginning to look like the man he will become. And that small sign of a different operating system, his autistic eyes, look for a brief instant directly into mine. If you have spent any time around autistic adults and they graced you with those eyes you will recognize the eyes of your children and catch your breath. The feeling is one of finding a long lost cousin of your child at a family reunion. You see the eyes, even in complete strangers, and you don't have to ask. Even when they don't say "I am autistic", you know.

 It came to me recently that one of the many reasons I care so much for all of these activists, and all those autistic children and adults they fight for,  is because they have, regardless of color, my son's eyes.  When they are able to look directly at me for an instant, it is a gift and a surprise, and at that instant, I remember my son and how much we love him.  I "see" my autistic son is growing up.