Tsara Shelton's Blog, page 27

Autism Answer: My Softhearted Naivete Battles Prejudice

* I stumbled across this old article of mine that appeared in OpEdNews at the end of 2014. I don't remember if I've shared these thoughts here with you so I felt invited to do so. Hugs and happy reading!! ~Tsara My boys and me!My softhearted naivete has been a challenging gift.
In the presence of love and acceptance, I've always believed , prejudice will easily be lost.
But then things happened.
I was a teenage single mom, a mom with bare-feet allowing freedom for her noisy sons in grocery stores and quiet waiting rooms, a mom whose children were all different colors and who didn't go to church, a woman who finally loved and married a man with skin colored differently and the age difference of a generation.
While living life as myself, my softhearted naivete has been scoffed at and challenged. Even by my own husband who truly does love me. Even, in the more intense moments of self-reflection, by me.
But mostly by a world which can be prejudiced, cruel, and afraid.

When I moved with my sons to California, hoping to temporarily leave behind some of the more obnoxious prejudice of our small Texas town, my oldest boy came home after his first day at the new school proclaiming that he'd been abused and called a "terrorist" by his peers, and the bus driver had encouraged the behavior with shrugs and a tangible silence on the issue, that day my beliefs were challenged.
When I was told by officials in our small town that part of the reason they were threatening to take my kids away was simply that "They didn't like my kind around here" well, my softhearted beliefs were also threatened.
When Trayvon Martin was killed by George Zimmerman in 2012, and my husband and I continually asked our youngest son to take off his hood before going out with friends, and then wondered if he should even go out with friends, I'll admit my goodness and love beliefs were shaken.
When another of my sons was consistently on edge and playing defense anytime he visited with his girlfriend's family who would throw around horrible and offensive terms--f*ggots, n**ger, sand n**ger, ret*rd,--knowing well who his family was and who he loved, my love and acceptance beliefs were trampled on.

When my autistic brother would surprise a stranger by picking the lint off of their sweater or delightfully flicking their ponytail, and be responded to with anger or pathetic pity, my belief in a world that wanted to choose kindness was challenged, which too often challenged me so much that I was momentarily unkind. 
When Barack Obama was elected president an my husband and I braced for the inevitable storm of hatred we correctly felt coming in our bones, my softheart trembled under the weight of hate.
When another one of my sons, who is large, gay, funny, and strange, was battling depression and a hate for the people who use religion to be vocal and angry about men who love men, my belief in simply love was belittled.
And yet, despite these and so many other instances, huge and minuscule, that threatened to harden my heart and encourage me to take up arms to fight fire with fire, my beliefs remain.
Though, I am no longer naive.
I no longer think I can parade my family around with the expectation that we will always be quickly accepted, or that just by our loving nature we'll open eyes and encourage folks to rethink prejudice or assumptions.
I no longer think it's as simple as seeing our love. For folks who would otherwise choose to believe some people are better than or more important than others, observing my loving and diverse family (and the many other families like ours) at the airport or bus stop is not going to be that epiphany or catalyst for change. Not likely.
I no longer believe all people will willingly feel our love. Regardless of my comfort with (almost) always loving and having honest interest in all people, I've learned that my love isn't always appreciated or, and this is true, pure.
I no longer expect all people to accept us just because we are nice, or fun, or hard working. Now I know that we aren't actually these things in everyone's opinion.
I now know that it has taken work to get the half-assed acceptance and almost equality we have today. And that it will continue to take work and persistence and reflection and evolution to one day watch my sons walk off with their friends into a world that will accept them all as equally valuable.
But the reason I know these things is not because I'm smart or worldly. Instead it is my softhearted naivete, the willy-nillyness with which I had colorful babies at a young age, before marrying an older and different than me man, that insisted I learn these important truths.
I am a child of society, just like you. Yet, I am also a child of diversity, with a mom who perseverated on fairness and equality, so I've had that going for me.
But my own very real prejudices also became apparent as time grew with me, and my intense desire to be a good mom--indeed, I've always dreamed of becoming a great mom!--meant opening my eyes and doing the work. The work within me first, and continually, as I step out into the world.
But, as luck would have it, the work is love! Challenge, shake, trample, or belittle my beliefs all you want, they remain strong.
Stronger, because they have faced and grown to better understand their would-be enemies.
Yet today my soft heart and baskets of love in the face of hate are no longer naive.
And they work better and more efficiently than they used to because of it!
Most notably though, they still work.
They work hard, passionately, and almost desperately in the face of cultural realities, systemic and deep seeded as they are.
But always, eventually, love works.
And though it works best when it's not naive, I find that a little naivete can gift us with challenges we may have otherwise stepped away from.
My softhearted naivete has been a challenging gift.
And I am dedicated to sharing it with a world that it helped me believe in and forever love!Hugs, smiles, and love!!Autism Answers with Tsara Shelton (Facebook)

For more stories and thoughts that grew up with me over the years I invite you to read my book, Spinning in Circles and Learning from Myself: A Collection of Stories that Slowly Grow Up.

Autism Answer: A Story Of Love Evolving

"A human being is nothing but a story with a skin around it."~Fred Allen

When I was a teenager I went through a year of skipping school to wander the streets of Toronto, reading books and talking to strangers. Reading books was a familiar addiction, but chatting with strangers was new and exhilarating. They were like books to me, but more interactive. I discovered that the more I truly listened to these people I was meeting the better their stories became. My questions grew more personal and deep and I found I was able to draw from them ever more multi-layered stories.
I started to realize, though, that my interest in them was deeply selfish. I wanted more ideas, more perspectives, more stories, and though my book-people-strangers always thanked me and appreciated my honest interest in them, claiming I had helped them rethink one thing or another, I also knew that I would easily do the same thing with another stranger soon. I knew that my deep interest and authentic curiosity was for something different than them, something elusive and important to me. During my time with a new person I would feel as though all of the answers to everything were being offered, and for a while after the conversation had ended I'd feel nourished and complete. I'd feel connected to everyone in an invisible but undeniable way. For a while. But then the feeling would wane, uncertainty would creep in and I'd need a new story, a new reason to feel, a new excuse to dive deeply into the reasons and motivations of someone drastically different than me. I was never satisfied! 
For a while I worried that my selfishness made me the worst kind of liar. Because in the moments that I was into a person, listening and exploring their lives and reasons, I was honestly in love. Sometimes romantically, sometimes friendly, sometimes simply being to being, but the love was active and real. Yet when they tried to make it last, tried to make plans for another day, I'd cringe at the thought. I felt done. I felt we'd had something special and had given each other personalized gifts, and that was enough. Time to move on. 
Rather than be honest I would stumble and make pretend promises. I would build a small escape route into the plan, in case they tried to follow up, generally reminding them that I had to ask my mom first, knowing I wouldn't ask. Knowing I'd just use her as my reason to say no if they called. This lie, offered at the tail end of a deeply authentic and enlightening conversation, tainted the entire relationship. It tainted me. 
And then I started to realize that being selfish is okay, and that in any relationship we are responsible for taking care of ourselves and keeping an eye on our motivators, so a degree of self awareness and even selfishness can be healthy. As long as I stayed honest and aware and willing to allow others to do the same, to have their own motivators and needs, my selfishness was okay. With this in mind I started to practice honesty in transition. How funny, I realized, that I could be deeply truthful and candid throughout these conversations with strangers yet have such trouble when the conversation was coming to a close. How strange that I struggled so much with endings and transitions. 
I thought of the novels I read so voraciously. I struggled with their endings, too. But I didn't feel responsible for how they felt; indeed, I loved how easily I could reach for another book to take their place without feeling too much guilt! Even more delicious was the way I could imagine more to their story! The way I could write more in my head and feel the freedom of fiction! So, perhaps that was the secret to comfortable endings with strangers. Perhaps embracing my willingness to walk away and create stories for myself would help me be honest with them. I allowed myself to see my fellow human beings as stories with skin around them. I started to find a clear way to give them gratitude for their time without feeling obligated to pretend I was willing to give them more of me. And then I realized that I, too, was a story with skin around me! And boy, was that ever powerful!! I was a story that I was responsible for.
I've never been a fan of responsibility, so it took me a long while to truly accept my role, but it was immediately powerful knowledge. 
With the added understanding that I was responsible for my own story, married with the new clarity of my willingness to walk away, I began, paradoxically, to follow up on new friendships and romantic love. How often is this true? So often! By stepping into our responsibilities and being clear about who we are, we often open new doors of possibility. Because I embraced my willingness to walk away I became more willing to stay; because I knew myself as someone who would, if necessary, walk away. 
Turns out, my fear of staying had more to do with not wanting to get too tangled and tied in a "bad" relationship. Oops! In truth, fear of bad relationships is what brought them to me in the first place. Fear always invites danger, I know that now. Relationships are gifts. It's quite possible that they are the greatest gifts. The people in our lives are like stories with skin around them but they are not books, they are not movies, they are not a blog post. They are an interactive infinitely valuable and necessary story that is forever evolving. When you invite that story to become part of yours, when you influence the story of another by sharing your own, you are becoming bigger than just you. That is quite a valuable gift!
For those of you seeking relationships this Valentine's Day, for those of you celebrating them or avoiding them or harrumphing them, please at least give yourself the gift of understanding them.
Give yourself that gift,and chocolate with coffee. That too!
Happy Valentine's Day!Hugs, smiles, and love!!Autism Answers with Tsara Shelton (Facebook)
Relationships are gifts of discovery and connection.

Random Love Advice, to You from Me: All of our relationships grow stronger and more comfortable the sooner we learn to identify the difference between inconvenient or annoying vs an actual problem. Everyone we love will do and say and believe things we find inconvenient or annoying, this is okay--this is actually healthy! Allow this! But when we come across a belief or habit that is a real problem, we must take the time to untangle it and examine it. Almost always it can be worked out together, but sometimes it's a problem that means we need to sever a relationship. This is okay! This is healthy! Allow this! It will give all of us room for more nourishing relationships with their inconvenient and annoying moments that keep us comfortably able to allow difference. Habits that encourage us to argue our points clearly and listen honestly. Inconvenient and annoying is not a problem, it's a valuable part of diversity. Learn to appreciate it!

Autism Answer: Home Is Where I AM (aka Story Five)

*My last blog post was a collection of Story Snapshots from my recent trip to California. I love all my snapshot stories, of course, but the one I wrote and called "Story Five" is probably the most useful for others. Although it's about me and my feelings, it's also a Universal and common story, so I decided to publish it as a stand alone. I hope you enjoy the read and recognize some of the feelings! Huge hugs!! ~Tsara

Story Five: 

My first flight to California was seriously delayed and by the time we were able to board I was already late for my connecting flight. Landing in Salt Lake City, Utah, a group of us were given hotel vouchers and cute little overnight packs with toothpaste, toothbrush, razor and much needed (in my case) deodorant. 

At first I tried to find a new flight so that I could get to my sister and her girls sooner. I made phone calls and checked flight availability. In the end, though, I went to the hotel with a lively and fun group of strangers. We bantered and I told a story about getting pulled over for rocking out too hard in my car, insisting that the police officer really just wanted to get a peek at my adorable children. I don't know why I told that story, it's a lie. A friend of mine was pulled over for rocking out too hard in her car, not me. Oh, well. Strangers are a fun way to discover these things about ourselves. I remember thinking that if I said it was my friend someone might challenge the validity of the story and truly, I just wanted the story to be a vehicle to bring up how adorable my sons are, I was uninterested in a discussion of the story's likelihood as a destination. 

Anyway, as we got to the hotel and climbing out of the van I was delighted to discover snow surrounding us! My heart soared and I craved the company of my children. They would love to see the snow! Breathing in the crisp night air I suddenly felt young. My teen years were spent in Toronto, Ontario, walking and busing many winter nights to comedy clubs and coffee shops. Smoking cigarette's and singing to myself. Lordy, that was long ago! 

We headed carefully up the steps into the hotel lobby.

One of my fellow travelers pulled out a guitar and played quietly as we took turns handing in our vouchers and discussing our temporarily stalled travel plans. I thought of how many times I'd stayed with my sister and my nieces in hotels that were as nice as this one. When left to me and my pocket book I'm inclined to sleep in the car or grab a terrifically cheap motel. Not my sister. She and her family have always stayed in venues with coffee shops and fancy lobbies and rooms that offer expensive extras. I missed my sister.

I climbed the stairs to my room and entered, alone and exhausted. The room was too large for only me and so I dropped my sweater and bag and purse in different places, trying to make it look full. There was a fireplace that turned on with a switch. I turned it on and missed my sons again. They would get a kick out of that! I was oddly happy to be alone and missing all of my loved ones. Walking over to the window I peeked out at the snow again and heard it call to me. Leaving my sweater tossed on the back of a chair I picked up the room key and headed out. 

The night air tickled my arms and chilled my lungs. I spun in a circle and looked out at the city, not entirely blanketed in white but boasting a comfortable amount of snow. It looked used to it. 

My soul was excited, young, old, alone, lonely, complete, overjoyed, and lost. In short: deliciously overwhelmed! 

I had a moment of clarity. I missed my family. All of them, everywhere. Everyone is growing wings and choosing their own trajectories, taking flight and choosing different winds. I find it easy to encourage them, after all, I can't wait to learn from the things they do and the places they go! Yet my own home feels like it's getting smaller and insignificant. If home is where the heart is, and my heart is where my family is, where do I go? Where is my home? 

Looking down at my feet in the snow and embracing the deliciously overwhelmed feeling completely, I knew my truth. Home is where I am. I am home when I am authentic and comfortably me. When I embrace my strength and my vulnerability and explore my possibilities. 

Oh, friends!
There's no place like home!
Hugs, smiles, and love!! 
Autism Answers with Tsara Shelton (Facebook)

Autism Answer: Story Snapshots from California

Story Snapshots from California 
Story One:

I'm in California, babysitting my nieces and feeling infinitely happy to finally see them!

I'm in California, babysitting my nieces and feeling a deep longing for my sons at home in Texas.

These are both completely true statements.

Loving so many people is a wonderful way to exercise your emotions! The more people we love the more flexible and strong our emotions grow.

Story Two: 

My six year old nieces (twins) love love love to listen to and read stories. A few nights ago they remembered that I am a writer with a book published. They asked if I'm writing another book, and I said you bet! Then they asked what it is about, and I told them. 

They love it! They wanted more!

So I told them about the movie I wrote, which is filled with stories. They love it!! 

I'm having such fun sharing my stories with them, friends! Keeping the stories sophisticated while being sure they're also age appropriate. It's surprisingly easy! Big concepts are equally interesting and valid at little ages.

Interesting Observation: Listening to my young nieces call me a writer gave me a new kind of joy. Feeling them hang on my every word while I spin a tale, periodically reminding each other that my stories are so good because I'm a writer, led me to realize that to them I've always been a writer. In their young lives, Aunt T is a writer and always has been. They're the only people in my family who know me as the person who has always been doing what she dreamed of doing. Neat!

Of course, my nieces hang on every word when pretty much anybody tells a story. As I said, they love love love to listen to and read stories! But there's a neat new dimension when they talk about it like I'm a professional storyteller. And it's fun to explore and incorporate new dimensions! 

I wonder what story we'll tell tonight?
Hugs, smiles, and love!!
Story Three:

I woke up before the sun to the sound of my six year old nieces yawning and scooting around in the crisp sheets of my sister's bed. I felt them snuggle into me from either side and wished for a moment I could have it all. Quiet times with my nieces, coffee times with my sister, rocking out to intense and often inappropriate songs with my sons, dancing alone in my dance room, snuggling my hubby and working side by side with my mom. Laughing all night with my best friend and chatting on the phone with my brothers. All of that, and more! 

Of course, I do have it all. I just wished for a moment I could have it all, all the time and all at once; incompatible or not! 

But then one of my nieces (the one that shares my name) rubbed my arm and said: "Aunt T, you should write a book about two little girls who love their mommy but when she goes to work for a long time their Aunt T comes to babysit and they have so much fun. But then they have to go to school, but it's okay because soon their Aunt T picks them up from school and they have so much fun again. You should write that book." 

That was the moment I knew that this was the moment I wanted to be in for the moment!

It was almost magically timed as well. I'd just been thinking about writing a story for them that was sort of about our week together, but I was  thinking I'd have to create a fancy and fun world with characters who were similar to us yet different, so that it wouldn't be so darn obvious that I was writing our story and trying to make them remember this week with the delight that I'll always remember it. 

It turns out, these girls are completely comfortable with obvious! 

Now I'm just left hoping the teenagers will feel similarly about me. My teen nieces are wonderful, brilliant, beautiful, talented, and delightful. I adore them with every inch of my soul. However, unlike how easy it is to show affection to the little ones, I have to pull back with the older girls. I love teenagers because you can really truly chat with them, but they are (appropriately) suspicious of overly cheesy consistent praise and affection. 

Last night, after the little ones had fallen asleep, we sat up a while chatting and laughing and I truly listened to them. And when I just couldn't take it and I had to hug them, I did so with permission. And when I just had to tell them how awesome they are, I did so with specificity. I hope they felt the affection in that. 

I know that for me, it felt fabulous and fun! 

Oh, boy, friends! I am having a fantastic week!!
Hugs, smiles, and love!!


Story Four: 

I was driving my teenage nieces home from various rehearsals and appointments yesterday, listening to their typical teenage observations and ruminations. 

Eventually I hear them both offer some playful variation of: "My life is the worst!" 

I quickly countered passionately: "Not a single person in this car has a bad life! Sure, we have bad moments, but only awesome lives."

Both my nieces nodded while the thirteen year old offered: "That was totally quotable, Aunt T." 

I was giddy and goofy with joy. My niece thinks I'm quotable!! I played it cool, though. Turning onto their street I gave her a quick sideways smile in the rear view mirror and purred: "Yes, well, I'm a famous writer, you know. I'm infinitely quotable darling!"

We had a giggle!

I suppose it's only fair for my nieces and my sons to quote me now and then. After all, I'm always quoting their awesomeness to you!

Story Five: 

My first flight to California was seriously delayed and by the time we were able to board I was already late for my connecting flight. Landing in Salt Lake City, Utah, a group of us were given hotel vouchers and cute little overnight packs with toothpaste, toothbrush, razor and much needed (in my case) deodorant. 

At first I tried to find a new flight so that I could get to my sister and her girls sooner. I made phone calls and checked flight availability. In the end, though, I went to the hotel with a lively and fun group of strangers. We bantered and I told a story about getting pulled over for rocking out too hard in my car, insisting that the police officer really just wanted to get a peek at my adorable children. I don't know why I told that story, it's a lie. A friend of mine was pulled over for rocking out too hard in her car, not me. Oh, well. Strangers are a fun way to discover these things about ourselves. I remember thinking that if I said it was my friend someone might challenge the validity of the story and truly, I just wanted the story to be a vehicle to bring up how adorable my sons are, I was uninterested in a discussion of the story's likelihood as a destination. 

Anyway, we got to the hotel and climbing out of the van I was delighted to discover snow surrounding us! My heart soared and I craved the company of my children. They would love to see the snow! Breathing in the crisp night air I suddenly felt young. My teen years were spent in Toronto, Ontario, walking and busing many winter nights to comedy clubs and coffee shops. Smoking cigarette's and singing to myself. Lordy, that was long ago! 

We headed carefully up the steps into the hotel lobby.

One of my fellow travelers pulled out a guitar and played quietly as we took turns handing in our vouchers and discussing our temporarily stalled travel plans. I thought of how many times I'd stayed with my sister and my nieces in hotels that were as nice as this one. When left to me and my pocket book I'm inclined to sleep in the car or grab a terrifically cheap motel. Not my sister. She and her family have always stayed in venues with coffee shops and fancy lobbies and rooms that offer expensive extras. I missed my sister.

I climbed the stairs to my room and entered, alone and exhausted. The room was too large for only me and so I dropped my sweater and bag and purse in different places, trying to make it look full. There was a fireplace that turned on with a switch. I turned it on and missed my sons again. They would get a kick out of that! I was oddly happy to be alone and missing all of my loved ones. Walking over to the window I peeked out at the snow again and heard it call to me. Leaving my sweater tossed on the back of a chair I picked up the room key and headed out. 

The night air tickled my arms and chilled my lungs. I spun in a circle and looked out at the city, not entirely blanketed in white but boasting a comfortable amount of snow. It looked used to it. 

My soul was excited, young, old, alone, lonely, complete, overjoyed, and lost. In short: deliciously overwhelmed! 

I had a moment of clarity. I missed my family. All of them, everywhere. Everyone is growing wings and choosing their own trajectories, taking flight and choosing different winds. I find it easy to encourage them, after all, I can't wait to learn from the things they do and the places they go! Yet my own home feels like it's getting smaller and insignificant. If home is where the heart is, and my heart is where my family is, where do I go? Where is my home? 

Looking down at my feet in the snow and embracing the deliciously overwhelmed feeling completely, I knew my truth. Home is where I am. I am home when I am authentic and comfortably me. When I embrace my strength and my vulnerability and explore my possibilities. 

Oh, friends!
There's no place like home!
Hugs, smiles, and love!! 
Autism Answers with Tsara Shelton (Facebook)

 

Autism Answer: How Our Kids Are Doing In School Is Not How Our Kids Are Doing

REMINDER: Our children's grades do not tell us how our children are doing. They tell us how our children's grades are doing. 

Sure, they are worth chatting about with our rugrats but good grades do not equal doing good, or vice versa. 

Often I hear parents ask each other: "How are the kids doing?" And far too often I hear a quick response that is some version of: "Great! She's in honor roll this year." or "Awesome! He's finally getting his school work in on time and bringing up his grades." or "Struggling. Her teachers tell me that she doesn't really apply herself or do the work." 

My hope is that we parents will remember to pay attention to how our kids feel about school and what they're actually learning, but we'll easily know that how they are is not about grades. Their grades do tell us a story about our children, they give us an idea of what they struggle with and care about and what their motivators are. But the grades aren't about HOW they're doing. Sure, most of us kind of "get" that but we're losing our grip on how true it is. 

When we run into old friends at the grocery store and they ask: "How are the kids doing?" I hope we'll easily respond with some version of: "Great! She's really into this new idea she has about writing the story for a video game." or "Awesome! He's been telling me all about why he wants to build Eco friendly buildings in busy American cities." or "Struggling. She feels confident about her ideas most days but struggles to like herself. We'll get there though. School is helping, she has a great group of friends and a supportive counselor." 

Some of our children go to school, so ignoring their grades or teacher reports would be silly. But their grades do not tell us how they're doing. 

Our children do. 

Hugs, smiles, and love!!
Autism Answers with Tsara Shelton (Facebook)

Autism Answer: Upon My Death

Dear you, 
I guess we'll be having coffee and conversation differently now. Knowing us, we'll find a way that'll be funny and uniquely ours! There's something, though, that I want to tell you now. 

I’m not at all scared. 

I’m in awe, amazed, confident, and curious, mostly. Sure, I’m also sad. I will miss you in the deepest way something vital can be missed. Something necessary and worth the possibility of losing. But we’ve missed each other before and though I was sad then, we also discovered important gifts in the absence. We learned and lived things we couldn’t have otherwise learned or lived, because our separation was part of what we were learning from. So I’m sad, but I’m comfortable with that. 

Interestingly, I’m not scared. Not at all.

For me, everything of utmost importance has been done. There is so much I still want to do, so much I still want to experience and create. But everything that I needed to do, all the things that I had decided were the markers of who I had to be, have been done. And you have loved me in the active way that offers hints I did them well. Thank you!

You have the tools, talent, courage, and awareness to live your life well and to live it your way; I know that completely. You’ve proven it over and over and I’ve had the honor of learning from you. You’ll do ever more amazing and unique things in the coming moments. I’m excited to watch from the other dimension! 

I’m curious, too. 

We’re so valuable to and supportive of each other. It’s given us strength and insight. I know it will be lasting, but I don’t know what it will look like now that I’m elsewhere. My imagination can create so many possibilities! I’m curious to see what your imagination and actions create.  

But I’m not scared. Not at all.

I’m surprised. I’ve never feared dying, but, as you know, I’ve often feared being gone from you. I felt a need to show you more, give you more, appreciate you more. Yet I now know that we’ve given more already. And it’s wonderful! What a stellar and wonderful life of abundance!! More has been a delicious and nourishing gift but, like dessert, it’s not necessary. 

Because of this, I’m not scared. Not even a little. 

I’m aware and unworried. I know we still have hurdles, vulnerabilities, and fears. I know we were going to do so much work together; creating and cultivating and expanding our souls. But I’m unworried because of the work we've already done and the supportive web we’ve weaved. Look around us!! The pool of abilities and support is deep! We are part of that and always will be. 

We’ve been invited into everything that gives us happiness and we’ve accepted.

I’m not at all scared. 

I’m amazed, grateful, curious, enlightened and deeply loved. And, yes, I’m a little bit sad. 

But I’m not scared. Not at all.

Thank you for that!

Love,
~Me

www.tsarashelton.com / Autism Answers with Tsara Shelton (Facebook)

Autism Answer: So You're New To Autism? You're Lucky You Ran Into Me!

Me and my youngest son.
So you've started dating a girl with autism? So you just found out that your son is on the autism spectrum? So you learned that all of those times you felt stranded in a world that doesn't make sense had to do with your not-so-typical brain? So that autistic girl from next door has started to wander into your yard and want your attention? 
You're lucky you ran into me! 

I live a life surrounded by autism. My mom, my brothers, some of my sons, and a few of my friends, all landed in various places on this broad spectrum. Some of my loved ones are no longer diagnosable as autistic, but all of my loved ones remain wonderfully quirky! 

You are lucky! I'm guessing you know this, but I want to reiterate it anyway. I, myself, took too long to understand it. 

The world needs us to have the kinds of conversations that are encouraged because of challenges like autism. I don't mean to glorify or belittle or romanticize the challenges; they are real and they are hard. But almost all of them are problems of a society that is uncomfortable with chaos and inconvenience. Only a few of them are actually because of autism itself. 

Sadly, I didn't know this. I assumed my mom and my brothers were asking too much of themselves and the world, and that the world (when telling them to stop being themselves and to stop trying to be accepted or able) must be right. After all, there is so much more of the world than us! How could it be wrong? 

But I had children, and they stimmed, pulled away from certain types of touch, remained naked and nonverbal for too long despite my efforts. The list is longer. 

By the time I was a mom my brothers had already proven the ever-doubting world and me wrong, time and time again. My mom had patiently showed me, taught me, believed in me until I learned to know in what ways I was wrong. By the time I was a mom I was ready to step up and explain things to the world. 

I started by admitting my own cruelties. That was sometimes hard but always easier than justifying and defending them. Then, I asked the people I love what was going on in their minds and--this is key-- I believed them. When my mom and brothers used to try to tell me about their experiences, I mostly entertained them with nods and pats on the head. Secretly I thought they were being dramatic, not trying hard enough, or just plain not smart enough to make sense. I could give you specific examples (I have many!) but suffice it to say, I was "nice" on the surface and saw them as "other" on the inside. 

But my sons? I couldn't do it. I had to believe in them and be interested in them and truly listen when they told me things. Whether they communicated by moving away or toward things, or eventually with words. 

Because the world looks, smells, feels, and tastes different to everyone, and especially for our autistic loved ones, it's important to trust them to tell us how they feel, what they see, who they are, what they think. It can be hard to understand (my one brother used to complain about all the "poo flakes" flying at him when I asked about his flinching and my other brother doesn't have much language so I've learned to listen to his energy and motions) but it's more than worth it. We all become better people when we learn to do this everywhere in our lives. 

Because of my brothers, and especially because of my mom (who adopted my wonderful brothers despite everyone telling her they were unlovable) my life is better and my eyes are open in beautiful ways. I'm kinder, smarter, and busier sharing wonderful things instead of hiding away from possibilities that are hard to work toward.  

I've learned to listen when people take the time to share their experiences--what it's like to be black in small town Texas, or gay in high school, or Muslim in America, or homeless or autistic or raped by someone everybody loves--and to believe them. Sounds simple and obvious, right? Yet pay attention. Most of us assume we know what other people should feel, we challenge their experiences by telling them, "That's not right, that's not what it is." We do this easily and consistently and it's dangerous and sad.  

So you're lucky you ran into me! Take a deep breath and when the world looks at you or your son or your girlfriend or the neighbor girl with judgements, anger, or pity, try to respond with a kindness and a teaching. Not always, but when you can. I've learned to do this (for the most part) and it's been enlightening! Often people shift when I'm willing to smile and offer a kindness. And when they don't, I go ahead and give them the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps they thought about it later and will be less judgmental next time. Goodness knows I've gone home and thought about things only to grow kinder for the next person! 

The weight of the world is not on your shoulders entirely, so don't feel obligated to always take the time to teach or encourage a thoughtful reaction, but you have been gifted with a unique opportunity. Take advantage of it in creative and comfortable ways!  

You're new to autism which means you'll be interested and curious to learn from others. That's great! Please know: The professionals will try to be helpful but listen first to your autistic loved one. The professionals are lovely but rarely right. And when they are right, when they do believe in unlimited possibilities and putting the goals and motivators of the autistic individual first, when they do prove to you that their ideas and actions are effective and kind, hold onto them and learn with them! Those gems of support are your best bling! 

While you're here I want badly to tell you about all the things my mom* does that can help. I want to tell you about my book that is a collection of stories starring parenting and autism. I want to tell you to hire my mom, watch her shows, read her books. 

And here's the thing. So many of us are going to tell you that. You will meet so many wonderful well meaning people with the perfect book, the perfect therapy, the perfect vitamin, the perfect-whatever. I suggest you listen to them, because they have experience and you don't need to figure it all out alone. But always, always, always take time away from their opinions to think about how it resonates for you and your family.

Your beliefs. Your girlfriend. Your son. Your neighbor. 

And also, friend, take the time to consider what beliefs or motivators you might have that are in your way; hurting your chances for a valuable and successful experience. 
It will surprise you sometimes! We are creatures of our environment and the environment is imperfect. That's okay, because we are also creatures of power and you can make changes. 


Invest in your happiness and agency!

My brothers are now my friends. My sons are my treasures. My mom is my mentor and kindred spirit. My life is diverse and unpredictable and filled with magic and miracles! You're lucky you ran into me!

Because of my struggles with society and self, I'm able to share these learnings with you and save you some hardship.  I'm able to explore my mistakes and see that they are indeed valuable. 

I see that it's also me who's lucky. I'm lucky I ran into you!!
Hugs, smiles, and love!!Autism Answers with Tsara Shelton (Facebook)_____________________________________________________ *My mom is now an international mental health expert (Lynette Louise aka The Brain Broad) who travels the world helping families grow healthy, happy and strong. Her international docu-series FIX IT IN FIVE with THE BRAIN BROAD airs on The Autism Channel (you can check out clips on YouTube or her website Lynette Louise aka THE BRAIN BROAD). She uses neurofeedback and brilliant behavior shifts to help people identify their goals and reach them with impressive speed and comfort. Please visit her websites to learn more. www.lynettelouise.com and www.brainbody.net 

Autism Answer: In Which I Appreciate You For Reading My Many Words

"When I write I feel like I'm disappearing into more of me" ~Tsara Shelton

Wow, I've written a lot. 
Boy oh boy, I really like to tell you about my family! 

This morning I was thinking about doing a "Throw Back Thursday" thing and sharing an old blog post on Facebook, so I started peeking around at my posts and kept thinking, "Wowza! I really like to write about what's going on with my family. I really like writing what I think. I just keep writing and writing and writing!"

And then I also noticed there have been others peeking at my posts, too. People like you. People who take the time to read what I write (and write and write and write). 

I'm forever grateful to all of you--the one time readers, the sometimes readers, the consistent readers, commenters and sharers--for being here with me while I write, consider, reflect, and giggle at our antics. You've helped me and my boys grow. One of the things my sons love to say when I applaud them for coming up with something funny or something insightful is: "Is that going to be an Autism Answer?"

They say it with a smile. They know that I like to celebrate and share with you, and they like it. 

They're forever grateful to all of you, too! It's through sharing and considering and writing that I truly get comfortable with my parenting. In clearly expressing my thoughts I'm able to own them, and sometimes, change them. 

Have you noticed, friends, that I'm not shy about sharing challenges and hardships? That I'm inclined to offer up my vulnerabilities and mistakes as important moments for learning? And in doing so I've been able to refine and understand and even feel proud of my ability to tell stories with intention. My intention shifts a little as my life shifts, but it's always some version of discovering a useful, kind, and deeply inclusive answer. I tell stories of hurt or failure or cruelty always with a purpose to discover something nourishing. 

I've learned that most of you do that as well. Through your comments and messages I've learned that I'm not at all alone in this. I'd love to sip coffee with all of you one day!! We're so different from each other yet so wonderfully comfortable with that!

As my motto reminds me: "Autism asks challenging questions, begs us to think outside the box and then, Autism Answers!" The stuff that makes us think differently and learn from difference invites us to meet in the place where forgotten answers wait to be re-discovered and where new ideas wait to be created and considered. We, friends, are not afraid to spend some time in those places, sharing seeds of thought that grow into unusual but purely organic truths. 

So, thank-you. Thank-you for letting me share with you and thank you for sharing with me. Our seeds and thoughts have already grown into beautiful things. I'm unable to see it all, but I only have to look at my sons to know the beauty of it. 

Now, with no further ado, a Throw Back Thursday blog post! This one is a few years old and it's a lovely example of how we're always growing. It's the story of my husband's first time ever visit to a new state at over sixty years old, and how my then four year old nieces explored a new kind of relationship with their rarely seen uncle Milton. 

A Movie With Uncle Milton

Hugs, smiles, and love!!!
Autism Answers with Tsara Shelton (Facebook)

Autism Answer: I Love Buying Used Books - Should I?

I've recently grappled a bit for an answer to a question. 

I love to buy used books. But lately I've been wondering, should I?

Most of my life I've read used books; I love the worn look and feel, and I love the extra dimension of knowing I'm not the first to turn those pages and feel feelings, and I like the recycling aspect. I love to buy new sometimes as well but I've almost never been able to afford it. For years and years this love of worn books has worked perfectly for me. 

Then eBooks happened and I promptly harrumphed them. No smell! No tactile pleasure! No walking past a finished read displayed on my overflowing book piles reminding me of past feelings and lives! 

Yet, how many trees are saved by eBooks? I know that the technology creates problems for nature, but could it be as bad as producing so many physical books? 

And things also changed for me when I became an author myself. I realized, suddenly, that all those delicious books I'd bought or borrowed second hand were not feeding the author. I was falling in love with their sweat, tears, and deep creations but I wasn't paying them for it. 

Hmmmmmm..... I had to rethink a bit.  
Now, though, I've done some rethinking. And I have my answer.
I'm aware that I will likely shift my answer eventually, or at the least I'll rethink it again when new things are introduced for my consideration and understanding. But for now I'm confident with where I am. 



I will continue to buy or borrow used books. Because it's a form of recycling, because it's a pleasure I crave and deserve, and because as an author I want, more than anything, for people to read and share my book. Sure, I hope I'll make a little money. I like food and coffee and whatever it takes to visit my sons in California. Usually those things take money. 


But when I imagine what I want most of all, it's the sharing of my stories. I love imagining someone years from now stumbling on my book in the dark quiet corner of their local thrift store and being invited into the pages! I'm energized by the possibility that they may even want to share that experience with someone else! 

Besides, when I read a book that I bought at a second hand book store or borrowed from my local library, people see it! People who may never have heard of the book get a look at it and see me enjoying it and, in a way, I've giving it a little free advertising! 

The one thing I do different now, after my rethinking, is when I love a book, I make sure to take the time to write a review. 

Usually on Amazon but sometimes also here on my blog and elsewhere as well. Sure, even before this rethinking I often planned to leave a review for the sake of other readers, but I was lazy about it. I'd do it only when it was convenient. It never occurred to me that the author themselves would appreciate my review. I always had them on such a pedestal that I thought little ol' me was a voice that would offer no interest. 

Oops! Authors do care! Not about me but about all of us who read. 

I know that viscerally, now. 

So, thank-you for being here with me while I asked myself this question so that I could have a fun reason to articulate an answer. 

I hope you have a favorite way to read, borrow, and buy books too!!  

Hugs, smiles, and love!! Autism Answers with Tsara Shelton (Facebook) Most of these were bought used.  

Autism Answer: My Nieces Are The Greatest Gift - Reflections on their Birthday #Twins

My youngest nieces and my youngest son.
My youngest nieces are six today!!!!! 

I love them soooooooooooo much! They are the most delightful little people I've had the pleasure of spending time with. They are uncommonly happy and comfortable. They are loving and funny and delighted by life. They are heroes! 

It's because of them that they are who they are. It's because they choose to be curious and happy and passionate. It's because they like the way it feels to get attention from their smiles and songs.

But it's also because of us that they are who they are. My sons, my mom, myself, their sisters, their dad, and--most of all--their mom, my sister. So many people who treat them with interest and respect. So many people who light up at the sight and sound of them. 

And it's because of each other. Being twins, they've been at each others side since before the beginning. They have a deep connection that is unusual for most people; a true gift when you are able to have it. I'm quite sure I have it with their mom, my sister.

At the end of the day, though, it doesn't matter why my youngest nieces are such delightful, loving, happy, comfortable people. Although, sure, it's clever to consider it. It's clever to want to take advantage of a thing so we can reuse it elsewhere. Mostly, though, we don't wonder why. 

We're busy celebrating it! Encouraging it! Playing and dancing and laughing and snuggling with it!! 

Which, of course, is a feedback loop I recognize as why my nieces probably keep on growing comfortable, happy, and confident.

My nieces are the greatest gift we could ever hope for on their birthday. 

Happy birthday to my gorgeous little heroes!
 
Aunt T loves you and misses you like crazy!!!!
Hugs, smiles, and love!
Autism Answers with Tsara Shelton (Facebook)


Twinning

www.fourbrothersoneworld.com
PHOTO: by Jory Shelton
This is a pic of my two oldest sons and my two youngest nieces. My boys aren't twins but most people think they are.