Points of Praxis

My Blog Reflects on Visual Rhetorical Theory and Disability Rhetoric and their Connections to Classical and Contemporary Rhetorical Theory

The Sound of a Miracle

As the dissertation train continues to roll on down the tracks, I just finished Annabel Stehli's 1991 book The Sound of a Miracle in which she chronicles her experiences raising her two daughters--one autistic and the other terminally ill.  The "sound of the miracle" to which Stehli's title refers to is the (controversial?) treatment of her autistic daughter in France for hearing and sensory sensitivities.  Dismissed at the time, sensory overload has become a more widely accepted as part of the autistic "experience" for many autistics.  By "retraining" her daughter's brain to accept a variety of sounds and pulsations, Stehli's daughter made a "recovery" (her word--not mine) from autism that is nothing short of "miraculous" (again, her word--not mine).

While I don't doubt her daughter's autism diagnosis and I can't really comment on the effectiveness of the treatment for sensory overload, what is most interesting to me is Stehli's experiences with the psychiatric community during the 1960's and 1970's when so little was known about autism.  Stehli's daughter was considered psychotic by social workers, dismissed by her biological father, and shunned by public and private school systems.  And, Stehli perhaps faced the worst of it--with the theory of the "refrigerator mother" being the most popular of the time--Stehli was often criticized and shunned by the very community she went to for assistance.   The book (albeit not perfect) illustrates quite convincingly the remarkable strides doctors, psychiatrists, and diagnosticians have made in regard to autism research.  Sensory overload is something I just accept as par for the course with autism.  I'm not constantly threatened by the fear of institutionalization and my hopes for my son are limitless compared to the expectations many made in regard to Steihl's daughter, who one doctor threatened would become Steihl's "pet."  While this book only follows the struggles of one mother and her two daughters during a time when autism was equated with schizophrenia, the book reiterates for me how lucky I am to have an autistic child today.

posted by: rgregory at 15:42 | link | comments |

Rhetoric of Autism Blogs

An interesting conversation is going on at Autismvox regarding the representation and privacy of autistic children in autism blogs written by their parents.  Ms. Clark, aka Autismdiva, comments that Kristina, the author of autismvox, often shares too many personal stories and personal images of Kristina's son, Charlie, on the blog.  Ms. Clark feels "uncomfortable with the way [Kristina] represent[s] Charlie’s speech on [the] blog, and I feel uncomfortable with all the photographs of him. I can’t imagine that he will like to look at your blog in the future. I think he will feel over-exposed. That’s just my opinion. I realize that you love Charlie, Kristina, I just think the world knows enough about him, way way too much about him.  I think autistics crave privacy more than NTs and that Charlie doesn’t have enough."

I disagree with Ms. Clark's criticisms, but as a scholar of rhetoric, I find the differences between Kristina's and Ms. Clark's blogs interesting--and I believe these differences offers an interesting opportunity to examine the different approaches to autism representation online.  Specifically, Ms. Clark's profile notes that she is an engineer in California while Kristina is a professor of Latin and Classical languages in New Jersey.  In Ms. Clark's blog, she often speaks of herself in the third person (as "Autism Diva") while Kristina often shares her and her son's experiences by making the connections between autism news and research to personal experiences.  Kristina, likewise, posts pictures of her son riding his bicycle and smiling triumphantly for the camera.

To be fair, I've been reading autismvox for sometime now (it was one of the first blogs I came across after Tobey's diagnosis that seemed positive and didn't construct autism as a fate worse than death like the Autism Society of America and Cure Autism Now often does), and I've only recently begun reading the autismdiva blog.  But, I theorize (and it's just a theory based on my own observations) that there are several notable differences between the representation of autism online between Kristina's blog and Ms. Clark's that might shed a little light on these different approaches to representation.

First, Kristina's background is in the Humanities, specifically languages and literature, where personal exposition is not only welcomed, but it's often encouraged.  I've heard numerous times from Disability scholars in the Humanities:  "The personal is political.  And, the political is personal."  Conversely, Ms. Clark's area of interest is engineering, a discipline that encourages writers to distance themselves from the text--for instance, engineering writers often avoid the first person in their discourses.  The author of the text needs to be unobtrusive and invisible, if possible.  I wonder if these different experiences with discourses and the position of the writer in the text might contribute to the differences in these blogs and the position or representation of the writer in them?

Also, it seems the two blogs have different rhetorical purposes that shape or influence the blogs' constructions.  While both blogs feature news stories on current issues in autism research and autism literature, Kristina's blog has a markedly different tone from Ms. Clark's, which is evident from the home pages of each.  The autismdiva blog's tone is much more confrontational and aggressive than autismvox.  As autismdiva notes in her profile, "Aut disce aut discede," one can either learn or leave.  Both blogs seek to encourage awareness on issues autism related, but they have entirely different tones and approaches to facilitate that awareness.  Likewise, each writer is positioned in different "places" in regard to autism--Kristina is the parent of an autistic child, and from what I gather, Ms. Clark is on the spectrum, herself.  This, of course, leads to different points of views, different perspectives, different purposes.

Why did I engage in this short rhetorical analysis here?  Because, I believe that both blogs function differently and contribute differently to the "dialogue" of autism.  Both serve valuable sources of information, but they approach the topic differently.  One isn't necessarily right and the other wrong.   I think they both have their rhetorical places in the conversation on autism.  I don't necessarily agree that the personal (both in regard to ourselves and our children) doesn't have a place in autism discourses.  I think these different points of view or rhetorical "positions" are important to the dialogue.  I'm reminded of Bakhtin's discussion of carnival here--various discourses function to construct the rhetorical whole.  Each "discourse" contributes to the construction of autism and one point of view or vantage point is no more relevant than other.  It's the contribution of each utterance that creates the speech act.

I also subscribe in some regard to my friend Kathleen's philosophy from the Walton's:  There's enough room at the table for all of us (and our different approaches/discourses).  We just need to pull up a chair and scoot on down.

posted by: rgregory at 15:51 | link | comments (2) |

Beddelheim and the Rhetoric of Blame

In Bruno Beddelheim's book The Empty Fortress (1967), Beddelheim, an Austrian Holocaust survivor with a PhD in art history, argues that autism is an emotional disturbance brought on by a mother's subconscious rejection of the child.  Beddelheim argues that because a child becomes autistic when a mother rejects him/her by not nurturing his/her subconscious self and actively engaging with the child.  Because the mother rejects the child, the child, in turn, rejects the world. 

Ridiculous, right?  In this day and age, with medical technology what it is and medical advances changing daily, we shudder to think about the poor, distraught mothers sick with grief for "causing" their children's emotional disturbances by subconsciously rejecting their children in the womb.  We now know that autism is a spectrum disorder that runs in genetically in families.  Sure, some people blame vaccines; others the toxins in our water and soul; others the diets we feed our children.  But, we've come much farther in psychology to realize that autistic children are not schizophrenics who reject the world in response to their mothers' emotional rejections.  Right?

No.  I'm still constantly answering questions, justifying my parenting skills, and reassuring people that Tobey is okay.  That his autism is not anyone's fault, and it's certainly not mine.   Tobey is Tobey.  He might do things a little differently, but he does them his own way.

Case in point:  Tobey still has issues with potty training.  Autistic children, by and large, focus so intensely on singular, isolated events that they often "tune" out the rest of the world.  It's why they are obsessed with spinning or shiny objects oftentimes.  Why they can memorize a scene from a movie or television show after a single viewing word-for-word.  Why they are often obsessed with moving parts in machines and motors.  And, it's also common for autistic children to become so focused on a single event, object, or scene that they lose focus on the rest of the world, including the urge to go to the bathroom.  Hence, Tobey (at 6) still has issues with potty training. 

I just accept that fact and know that, like everything else, Tobey will do it when he's ready.  Until then, I just clean him up and go about my day.  Besides, Tobey is the most wonderful, precious person I've ever known in my entire life (aside from Alex).  He's more caring and trusting than anyone I've ever known.  He loves unconditionally and completely.  He doesn't know how to lie and wouldn't know to do it if he was supposed to.  And, there are days that raising Tobey feels like a privilege--that some higher power believed me capable, generous, and loving enough to raise this little boy.  I'm truly honored that he's my child.

But, today.  Today...

My ex-husband, which some of you know well, doesn't see Tobey's potty training and behavioral issues as "just Tobey."  Instead, I'm babying him and Tobey's just too lazy to learn better.  After all, Tobey isn't "retarded."  Tobey's not "banging his head on the floor."  Tobey is just "lazy" and I'm "babying him."  If I really worked with him, "his behavioral issues would not be a problem."  If I weren't too concerned with my own school work, I'd take better care of him.  I'm not doing enough, not caring enough, not everything enough.  Apparently, autism is still the mother's fault.  And, in this case, Tobey's autism is my fault.

And, I suppose, I'm tired and I'm angry and I'm frustrated.  Because I get tired during the other 28 days out of the month that I'm having to clean up Tobey's accidents.  I get tired of having to clean up the bathroom when he does try to clean himself up and clogs the toilet.  I get tired having to run to the school because Tobey had an accident again and his extra clothes are already dirty again. 

I get tired of having to call out Tobey's name every 2 minutes to make sure he's still in the house because he's runaway before.  I get tired of never being able to open a window upstairs because Tobey will try to jump out.  I get tired of having to clean up closets and bookshelves because Tobey likes to pull the books off the shelf.  I get tired of having to keep the water off to the bathroom sinks because Tobey will construct his own swimming pool in the sink.  I get tired of never being able to take Alex to a movie because it just won't work w/ Tobey there.  I get tired of ARD meetings and autism blogs that tell me I'm not trying hard enough because Tobey's not on some micro-macro gluten, casein, lactose-free diet and that I'm poisoning my son.  I'm tired of working for what seems like days trying to get Tobey to pay attention enough to spell "C-A-T."  And, I'm tired of relatives complaining that Tobey won't eat their food because I don't make him--Tobey would rather starve.

But, right now, most of all, I'm mostly tired of ex-husbands and their new girlfriends both of whom know nothing about autism and see Tobey 3 days out of the month, telling me what I am and am not doing.  Or, what I should or should not be doing.

posted by: rgregory at 05:51 | link | comments (2) |

I was at a "party" the other night where a friend of mine commented on the necessity of MLK day: "You know that MLK Day is just a chance to keep black people happy. It's a gimme holiday to pacify them." I, then, proceeded to pick my jaw up off the floor because obviously this friend, first, forgot the significance of King's contributions to all humankind. King was for the equality of all human beings--not just "black people." He's honored because he died to insure that everyone can pursue their dreams, so that all of our children can grow up to fulfill their potential, and because of the unwaivering commitment he showed to his race and his nation. We should all be proud, regardless of race, to celebrate MLK Day and to be connected by mere association as "Americans" with MLK.

Second, I love his idea that "white people" had to just throw "black people" a bone, of sorts. "Here's a holiday for you. Now, be quiet." Because, there's not other reason to celebrate MLK Day. (See point 1.)

And, third, I'm disturbed by the lack of audience awareness going on here. Obviously this friend forgot who my boyfriend is and I would bet that he'd never had made such stupid comments if Marc were standing there, too.

So, I'm reminded here lately of this conversation in regard to the MLK Party thrown at Tarleton State University. I'm enormously disappointed in these students (two of whom Marc taught in Comp I and II) and with some of the responses published in the Empire Tribune. And, I've been thinking a lot about the party and response as it relates to Freud's theory of "psychological projection" as it relates to Foucault's theories on power and authority. Specifically, Freud's theory is that we tend to project our own negative characteristics and behaviors onto other groups of people, typically people who are not in positions of power within society. This is like the white welfare mom looking down and denigrating the Hispanic welfare mom. Both are in similar undesirable financial situations, both are typically scorned by the community at large, but the white welfare mom typically has more "power" than the Hispanic welfare mom because simply because the white mom is white. In regard to Foucault, Foucault argues in many of his books that humans strive for power and humans "obey" because of systems of power already in place. Systems reiterated by other systems. So forth and so on.

As it relates to my friend and these Tarleton students: all of them are in positions where they lack certain authority or power in society. My friend is a "$30,000 Millionaire" who works 40-50 hours a week doing a job that probably isn't something he dreamed about as a child. He lives in a modest community, drives a modest car, but by all standards would be considered "Middle Class." Therefore, my friend has no sizable position of authority in society because he doesn't earn an enormous sizable income--the tantamount marker of power in our society. But, he's white. And, as a white man, he has power afforded him by our society because of his race. He can walk through the grocery store he works in and clerks do not follow him waiting for him to shoplift. He can shop for a cell phone without the clerk asking directly, "Are you going to be able to pay for that?" He can pull over on the side of the road for a second to stretch his legs without a highway patrol officer pulling up behind him and asking to see some I.D. and to check him for weapons. He can live in a community without the Denton County Sheriff's Department knocking on his door searching for a meth lab because a "black and white couple" live there. So, yes, he can exert his authority by "giving black people" their one day a year.

These Tarleton students--not much different. Stephenville is really a rural community with few opportunities for economic or personal growth. They attend a school with a (practically) open admissions policy and a reputation for partying and rodeo. And, by looking at the pictures, they aren't too cute or thin. They are probably the "goober white hicks" that "city folk" mock as "ignorant rednecks who marry their cousins." They are twenty year-old kids, with $50 in their bank accounts, and a gas gauge on empty. For argument's sake, they have relatively little authority in our society. But, they can make fun of black people and black culture and call it "free speech." They can have a party and "represent" black people with their toy guns, bandannas, 40 oz. malt liquor wrapped in brown paper bags, fried chicken, bbq ribs, and Aunt Jemimah syrup and call it "innocent fun." Because, at least they are white. At least they have that position of authority upon which to position themselves.

And, it's the "power" aspect of this that seems to have gone overlooked to some critics in Stephenville and my "friend." Sure, black students can have a party where they play bad country music, wear overalls, drink Keystone Light beer, and smoke Virginia Slim cigarettes. But, because of the position of authority that exists in our society, there is imbalance of power. And, that is why it is offensive. Because people use these stereotypes and "markers of black culture" to justify bigotry, racism, and discrimination. And, by having such parties where "black people" are mocked and denigrated only reinforces such positions of authority and power.

Perhaps, it would have been more recognizably offensive if the students were dressed up in "black face"?

Perhaps, we could have a KKK party, complete with hangman's noose, white robes, and burning crosses?  (You think I'm joking--a friend actually suggested one of these would be "fun."  Seriously.)

Maybe a "Holocaust survivor" party where some dress up as Nazi soldiers and others as emaciated Jews? Maybe paint dark circles under our eyes? Draw in the outline of our rib cages to make us appear malnourished? Or, would that be crossing the line?

posted by: rgregory at 16:36 | link | comments |

I suppose because it's been one whirlwind event after another, I should post and say that "I passed my comps!!"  Yea!!  All the studying paid off.  Yes, students--study, study, study.  And, not at the last minute, mind you.

Now, where's my freakin' parade?

posted by: rgregory at 16:34 | link | comments |

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