Rollercoaster - part 2

I've only barely written my previous post when the rollercoaster is suddenly picking up even a lot more speed. In Flanders there is a lot of commotion for the moment about a boy called Thomas. He's 12 years old, high-functioning autistic and they're threatening him to take him away from his mother. The reason? Thomas can't go to school anymore. If I'm correct, they've tried no less than seven schools (imagine that for an autistic boy!) but none of them was able to give him the special attention he needs. So he and his mother are desperate. The appalling thing is though, that if by September he is not inscribed in any school, the "juvenile protection centre" will take him away from his mother and put him into foster care because she'd be supposedly a "bad mother" for "not sending him to school".

But brave little Thomas isn't giving up so easily. He's planning to start his own school, especially for autistic children! He's already found a suitable building (a school that was recently closed) and... he wrote a (very emotional) letter to the minister of education asking him permission to use this building for this purpose. "Only the water and electricity supply is still a problem, but that can certainly be fixed", he wrote. And "since there are so many unemployed teachers, we'll have no problem finding teachers for the school. My brother said that unemployed people receive an income from the State, they call it unemployment fee or something. So these teachers will cost you nothing more". :-)

His story and his letter caused a national outrage and next week he'll be in one of Flanders most popular talkshows on TV ("Goedele op dinsdag").

Now, what does this story have to do with me, you might ask? Thomas was present during the presentation of my book last week, and he claims in the interview that I've given him the courage to write the letter, because I told him never to give up. As an autistic boy, he's taken my words very literally. Personally, I doubt it if I have truly triggered him to take these initiatives. He's obviously a very courageous boy; courage which he already possessed long before he got to know me. Nevertheless he's asked the producers of the talkshow if I couldn't be present as well. So I also got an invitation and they're even willing to make an effort to pay for my flight (which doesn't come cheap at this short notice) and a hotel for the night.

Probably Thomas sees in me someone who truly understands his problem, and rightfully so. When he asked me during the presentation what I did against all the bullying at school, I felt very sad having to reply that I hadn't found the answer to that question yet. We, autistic people, have such a hard time understanding irony and mockery so we are the perfect victims. Our frustration for not being able to properly respond quickly turns into anger and sometimes even aggression. Which makes us even more perfect.

I sincerely hope that I can help him feel better and I'm absolutely convinced that he's destined for great things. He's already achieved more in one week than I in over forty years! Kudos, Thomas!!!

Rollercoaster

Have you ever been on a rollercoaster? That's the feeling I'm having right now. Tuesday and Wednesday I was back in Flanders in order to meet the press regarding my book. They were two long and tiring days because the interest in my book turned out to be a lot bigger than expected. Journalists from two of the biggest Flemish newspapers were there ("De Morgen" and "Gazet Van Antwerpen"), and no less than five magazines, including "Knack" (a highly renowned one). I even got interviewed by a journalist from "Dag Allemaal", which is largely regarded as the sort of magazine nobody ever buys but which everyone has read at the dentist's. This sounds a bit disrespectful because after all it remains the biggest-selling Flemish magazine of them all and in the end I'm very happy that they came. Mostly because it has such a wide coverage and it is read by the "man and women in the street", not just an "elite" audience. I believe that it's mostly the "man and woman in the street" who'd like to know more about autism and for whom this article and my book may be enlightening. 

On the downside, I was informed by my editor that the book sell hadn't been very good so far. Mostly because Flander's biggest chain of book shops ("Standaard Boekhandel") had refused to buy it. Apparently they're very reluctant to take in new authors and they concentrate on the ones who've already made a name for themselves. Pretty stupid, I would say, because when they're left with an unsold stock they can always force the editors to buy it back. But now that my editor (all credit to them!!!) has awoken a big interest from the press they've come 'round and started buying the book in limited quantities. Everytime someone asks me where they can find the book, I now promptly reply "Standaard Boekhandel". hehehe... :-) 

In the mean time the two newspapers have already published their articles. 3/4 of a page in "De Morgen" and a whopping full page (!) in "Gazet Van Antwerpen". I just can't believe it. When I agreed to do the interviews I thought that it would be for a small review on the "new books" page. You know, together with 4 or 6 books on the same half a page. But no... a full page! The interviews also didn't really focus on the book as such but mostly focused on me being autistic and how I coped with "real life". With its ups and downs. And I can only say that I'm touched very deeply by the way that these journalists transcribed my words because they really caught very well what I was trying to say. I'm eternally grateful to them... 

On Wednesday evening came the climax of these wonderful two days. A presentation of my book by noone else but Dirk Verhofstadt, the former prime minister's brother. Together with a mother of an autistic child and a representative of the "VVA" (Flemish Autism Society) we discussed the subject in front of a big audience and afterwards all of the books my editor had brought along were immediately sold out. They even had to put my personal copies up for sale and even that wasn't enough. 

My whole life long I've tried to be in the centre of attention. As a stupid attempt to be "accepted" by the others and most probably as a strange sort of cry for help. Most of the time this brought me into a lot of trouble. Now, after forty-two years, when I finally realise that I should rather stay out of the centre of attention, this attention is coming to me all by itself. Life can be so ironic... Hopefully the rollercoaster won't crash in the end! :-)     

We're grandparents!!! :-)

I would have posted this sooner but Blogger has been unavailable for a while... :-(  Anyway, as from this week our household has been extended somewhat. Our hens and cockerel are the proud parents of 5 little chickens!!! They're absolutely adorable, aren't they??? :-)

Unfortunately, two other eggs were about to hatch but the chicks inside weren't strong enough to break through apparently, and Christine and I were too late to lend them a hand. It's a pity... but nevertheless our grief is more than compensated by the joy of seeing these playful little creatures run about in the enclosed space under our henhouse. Rest assured that we'll take good care of them!!

A false note

Here's a small example about how quickly I lose control and a situation can get out of hand. It's one of the small "details" through which others may perceive that something's "wrong" with me and which led to me becoming an outcast up to the point of being severly bullied for being "different".

Obviously I was terribly enthousiastic about the Star Camp. It all went so well and everyone was so kind... Also the reactions I received on the astronomy internet forum were so nice... And then it happened. One of the forum's moderators suddenly intervened and said that the thread on the Star Camp had only had the intention to talk about the "planning phase" of the event and that all comments about how it had gone were off-topic. Normally, forum members are requested to make their comments on the forum's management only through private messages. But I was so stunned by this intervention... I couldn't understand why someone wanted to "ruin" my topic while other, similar, topics were allowed to continue, that I lost control. Emotions started to rage throuh my head... my whole body started to shiver out of frustration and anger. So I openly questioned the intervention and argued that I had started the topic to talk about the event "in general" and that people were allowed to continue with their comments as far as I was concerned. My message was very polite, unlike some of the things I've already said and done in similar situations, but nevertheless it directly challenged the authority of the moderators. Afterwards the moderator acknowledged that his intervention had been a mistake but he warned that such public neglect of a moderator's intervention could not be tolerated, although he would turn a blind eye for now.

Do you know what this did to me? I haven't slept for two nights and yesterday morning I sat at the breakfast table weeping. It felt as if the whole world was against me. For two full days I couldn't think, couldn't almost do anything else, I was shattered. I sent very angry private messages to that moderator, style "I thought you were a friend", because I believed it all to be so terribly wrong. For such a stupid thing... When things calmed down a bit and I started clearing up the mess in my head, I sent another, very emotional message to that moderator and explained what's the matter with me. And if he hadn't been so many miles away he would have given me a good hug. :-)

These are those little things that makes being autistic so difficult. Everything has to be "just so" because otherwise my "perfect world" goes to pieces and I lose control. We, autistic people, need this "perfect world" so very much because the "normal" one makes us so terribly confused that we need something firm and stable in order to cling to. Take this stability away and we're gonners. How frustrating...  

The Star Camp

What another busy week this has been! But unlike before, this time I've brought it onto myself. Last year I had the intention to organise a sort of "Star Camp" for all of my Italian astronomy friends because I wanted to thank them for their support and invite them to our place for a sumptuous BBQ plus observing night under the dark skies of our field. Unfortunately, there were the Big Bad Wolf and Nasty Little Man because of whom we went months past the deadline for finishing our house and so the whole plan collapsed.

Not to worry, however! This year I wanted to do it all over again and so I re-launched the invitation on the Italian astronomy internet forum. It didn't take long before the reservations rolled in and even though the event remained at a small scale (on Friday evening we were with 7 people and Saturday 13), we all had a wonderful time. The BBQ worked out really well and we were fortunate to have two nights of clear skies in a row, even though at the beginning the air was poorly transparent due to humidity. But after midnight it all cleared up and observing became a real joy. There were lots of telescopes and binoculars and we all went round to take a peek in eachother's treasures. 

I was totally knackered on Sunday, but very satisfied indeed. Most importantly because the guys and girls from the astronomy forum all turned out to be even more kind than how they appeared on the forum. And this is what makes me so proud to be a member of it. I believe that I have established a lot of true friendships for life with these people. They all brought us some local delicacies from their respective regions (3 had even driven all the way up from Rome!) which made the BBQ an all-Italian event. Even though I insisted on giving it a "Flemishg" touch of course by putting a pot filled with delicious double-malt Trappist ale in the middle of the BBQ in order to "steam" the meat with its perfume. Really... I love this country and its people. Well, most of its people anyway. :-)

And one last thing I insist on writing. The whole event wouldn't have been possible without Christine. The whole weekend she worked day and night, mostly invisible in the background, in order to spoil everyone with food, make up he beds, clean the house and do the dishes. I'm eternally grateful for everything she's done. Today she's having one of her terrible blows again. Exhausted to the point of collapse. But she doesn't mind because she believes it was all worth it. What a woman...

Here are a few pictures to illustrated the wonderful atmosphere of the Star Camp (3 of which courtesy to Monica):