This is the biopic of Temple Grandin, a woman who has revolutionised the way we deal with cattle, is one of the top scientists in the humane livestock handling industry, and is autistic. Born in the late 1940s, watching the movie of her life was also a look at how autism was seen in the second half of the century. In 1981, Temple amazed an autism convention by being a functioning, high-achieving person. She gave various reasons, credit to her mother and her schools.
Dear Eustacia (aka Temple's mother),
Thank you for having the inner strength and belief to follow your heart in raising your child. I can see how much patience was required to make her speak, to make her go to school, to make her a part of the world, to force her out of her comfort zones. So much patience, and so much love. And doing so without being able to follow the mother instincts of hugging your child. How hard to leave any child at a boarding school, let alone one who is so obviously different, such a magnet for bullying, and know that you can't hug them goodbye. I wept when I saw Temple allow you to hug her after Dr Carlock's funeral. So, not just patience, perseverance, and love, but also self-sacrifice and that wonderful message for your daughter: different, but not less.
Dear Ann (aka Temple's aunt),
What a great gift you gave both Temple and Eustacia. To give Eustacia some time off, some relief from the intensive full-time job of being the mother of an autistic child. To give Temple a new environment that was at first different and challenging and a stretch of her comfort zone, but with love and understanding. And to introduce Temple to cattle. The smallest actions can have such far-reaching consequences!
Dear Dr Carlock (aka the wonderful science teacher), and all teachers,
None of you is 'just' a teacher. You have such influence in the lives of your students. I know (believe me, I know!) that it can be disheartening when students seem not to learn anything, or have little or no enthusiasm for what you are trying to teach them. And not everyone will have a talent for everything (how boring would that world be?!). But if you can foster an inquisitive mind, a discipline and a perseverance, your work is not wasted. If you have the insight to help just one student see the world anew, to recognise their potential in a particular area, you have really made a difference in their life. If, like Dr Carlock, you can recognise that one of your students sees the world through pictures; and you discover that she can remember everything she sees; and set her a small challenge of perception that she can eventually conquer; then you might just have helped a child on her way to a PhD and changing the world.
Dear Blind Girl (aka Temple's second roommate),
What a wonderful friend you are. What a perfect roommate. So calm, so gentle, so accepting, so parallel in being another sort of different, but not less. And although visually impaired, such clear inner vision, able to see how people are feeling through their voice, able to perceive what's really going on without visual distraction. Such a good match for someone who also sees the world differently from the way most people see it.
Dear actors and writers and directors and producers of this biopic,
Well done. I laughed and I cried and I was indignant and I was impressed. I was super-impressed with Claire Danes' portrayal of Temple. I could see her name on the cover, and on imdb, but I only recognised her in maybe 3 moments, when Temple/Claire lit up with utter delight. I'm sure everyone who saw Temple at those corresponding moments would not have been able to be anything other than delighted also, it was overwhelming.
Dear Temple,
Thank you for allowing this movie of your life to be made. I am so impressed with your determination to do what you believe is right, no matter how challenging that is for you. I am not sure I would have the strength to do what you have done, to open those doors and step through. And your explanations of how your brain works - so clear and concise and helpful. Not conjecture, but reality. And the pictures in the movie, so much of them in black and white. That visual representation of what you hear - well, I get that too, although not to such a great extent. Your mental image of 'animal husbandry' was remarkably similar to mine, I laughed with delight that someone else saw it that way too.
Thank you for your insistence on the squeeze machine. What a wonderful gift to future generations of autistic children and their families. And thank you for your belief that we should be humane in our treatment of cattle. Just that word has such connotations of mistreatment, yet as you say they are only here because we eat them so why should we mistreat them? Seeing them as living beings with heartbeats and emotions is something we often miss. Taking the time to actually see them, see what they see, see what they feel, feel for them, be kinder to them.
And although you may never be able to read what people say with their eyes, your eyes see in ways most people cannot imagine, and we have a better world thanks to you.
Dear Fellow Inhabitants of the World,
What we do matters. When we allow someone to sit next to us at a desk, smile with them, listen to them,
help them through a door, watch TV with them, talk with them, really
see them, we accept them, and this matters. Never underestimate the
power of your actions or your words.
Saturday, 28 July 2012
Friday, 27 July 2012
The Campaign
Last week, Queensland's premier, Campbell Newman, cut two state-funded school music programmes, Fanfare and MOST. The reason given was financial. I'm not disputing the need for a balanced budget, but taking away benefits from children, who are unable to vote, is not on my Good Things To Do list. When I wrote about the movie Hugo earlier there was mention of the importance of these programmes: without dreams, we have no vision; without vision, we have no future.
I know I am biased when it comes to music, but there is so much evidence supporting its benefits in brain development. And we keep those benefits throughout life. Without presenting a scientific paper on it (that's not what this post is about, after all), my top reason why music should be important in education is that the corpus callosum (the bit that connects the 2 hemispheres of the brain) is larger in musicians compared to non-musicians. And all that left-brain/right-brain connectivity leads to better students overall.
Every student I have had participate in Fanfare has really enjoyed it. They have a common goal as an ensemble, their performance skills improve, their musical skills improve, and they really have fun. MOST students get such a buzz out of being involved. It doesn't matter where you are from in Queensland, if your school has music, you can be a part of it. Inclusion is important.
I discovered during the week that not everyone knows about the Save Fanfare and MOST campaign. Even my grade 12 students were keen to do something, even though they've had this benefit throughout their schooling. Today, then, I sent an email to the parents of students (and to the adult students I teach) with information about what they can do: a link to the e-petition; and the premier's email address for those who wanted to write to him. Hopefully the upcoming Fanfare concert will not be the last.
Today's photo:
I am amazed by tomato plants. I sowed some seeds ages ago, didn't see anything for a very long time, and then suddenly, that green thing turned out to smell like fresh tomatoes. Unfortunately, that was eventually investigated a little too thoroughly by the dog, and was then part of an unexpected cull. After I had to farewell my favourite gardenia plant, I then noticed familiar leaves growing... and I have another tomato plant. Yippee! During the week I spotted those sweet yellow flowers, and this morning I took advantage of what sunlight I could as it was glinting off those hairy stalks.
I know I am biased when it comes to music, but there is so much evidence supporting its benefits in brain development. And we keep those benefits throughout life. Without presenting a scientific paper on it (that's not what this post is about, after all), my top reason why music should be important in education is that the corpus callosum (the bit that connects the 2 hemispheres of the brain) is larger in musicians compared to non-musicians. And all that left-brain/right-brain connectivity leads to better students overall.
Every student I have had participate in Fanfare has really enjoyed it. They have a common goal as an ensemble, their performance skills improve, their musical skills improve, and they really have fun. MOST students get such a buzz out of being involved. It doesn't matter where you are from in Queensland, if your school has music, you can be a part of it. Inclusion is important.
I discovered during the week that not everyone knows about the Save Fanfare and MOST campaign. Even my grade 12 students were keen to do something, even though they've had this benefit throughout their schooling. Today, then, I sent an email to the parents of students (and to the adult students I teach) with information about what they can do: a link to the e-petition; and the premier's email address for those who wanted to write to him. Hopefully the upcoming Fanfare concert will not be the last.
Today's photo:
Thursday, 26 July 2012
Outfit #54 - Striped World
Skirt: Gina Tricot (op shop). Top: Tokito. Stockings: Target. Boots: Sandler. Earrings: made by me.
I consider this skirt to be striped (well, self-striped anyway), and when teamed with the block stripe stockings and the stripey earrings, I was feeling like I was screaming STRIPES!!! Maybe not that loud, but still. Then my eyes began to pick up all the stripes I see in my world. I won't share that list with you here, but trust me, it was long. Sorry for the white face of over-exposure, too - time was limited this morning.
Today's stripey photo:
Wednesday, 25 July 2012
Outfit #53 - All Knitted Out
Outfit details:
Dress: Country Road (op shop). Top: Dotti. Stockings: maybe from Myer...? Boots: Sandler. Earrings: made by me. Jacket: Sportsgirl (from Jeannie). Scarf: Alta Linea (gift).
I got so excited on the weekend when I realised I had a pair of stockings I hadn't worn yet this year. Grey, striped, knit - so I was hoping my legs would be slightly warmer than they were yesterday. It worked - I was warmer. But the vertical stripes are not my favourite. Whenever I caught sight of my legs I felt they looked blah. They might have to be warmth-only stockings. Still, knit stockings, knit dress, cosy.
Unlike last week when I had an unexpected sleep-in, I was pleased to wake up on time this morning and have time for photos before school. It was slightly chilly in the courtyard though so I was glad of the jacket and scarf. Bonus: the sun was at the exact right place to come in from the east but also reflect off the windows of the buildings on the ridge to the west.
Blue 'world' earrings. Wasn't so enthusiastic about hair today.
Stripes on the stockings - but only at the front.
Today's photo:
I got to the station just after the sun had cleared the city so we had a flood of light.
Dress: Country Road (op shop). Top: Dotti. Stockings: maybe from Myer...? Boots: Sandler. Earrings: made by me. Jacket: Sportsgirl (from Jeannie). Scarf: Alta Linea (gift).
Blue 'world' earrings. Wasn't so enthusiastic about hair today.
Tuesday, 24 July 2012
Outfit #52 - Mnah Mnah
Dress: Spicysugar (from Jeannie). Top: Dotti. Stockings: Target. Boots: Sandler. Earrings: Mombasa (I think). Scarf: Alta Linea. Jacket: Dotti.
I kept looking at these earrings and decided today was the day. They couldn't have a blog debut without these stockings. This meant that I had 2 animal prints. I was going to call this 'Animal' but whenever I thought that I thought 'mnah mnah' (Muppets, that is). So there we are.
Today's photo:
Monday, 23 July 2012
Movie #19 - Hugo
I must warn you, I didn't watch the whole movie. When I got home yesterday evening, my parents had already started watching this. They filled me in on what I'd missed (not heaps) but I also had to watch it like a normal person. No stopping to write down quotes or anything like that - although I did keep scooting in front of the coffee table to where my phone was charging to take some notes. So this is not the most in-depth reflection. What I did find, though, were 2 distinct themes which connect better than I originally thought. Machines; and dreams.
Hugo, living in the clock of a Parisian train station, is literally surrounded by machine - cogs and wheels and things working and things needing to be fixed. If he doesn't keep the station clock wound then he might be found out as an orphan; he also has a need to return his father's automaton to working condition. Looking out over the city one night, he says to his friend Isabelle that he thinks the whole world is a giant machine. And every machine has the exact right number of parts, never any more than is needed. And if the world is a machine with the exact right number of parts, then I must be a necessary part - and so must you. The hard bit, of course, is knowing what your part has to do for the machine to be able to work, what your purpose is in this grand scheme. But it is so hard, sometimes, to remember we are all necessary, even when we feel unimportant and invisible, and even those people who make us uncomfortable or annoyed are also necessary.
One thing Hugo loves is adventure. You know you're having an adventure if there's a chance you could get in trouble (good advice, there). His father used to take him to the movies, and now Hugo will steal into the theatre to watch 'dreams in the middle of the day'. This movie is populated with dreamers. And not the sort of dreamers who just sit around and dream, but those who have a dream and do all they can to reach that dream, no matter how fantastic. Now, some people might think that magic tricks are unnecessary; movies are unnecessary; art and music and poetry are all unnecessary. But if anyone has a particular talent for any of these things - and, as we know now, we are all necessary parts of the giant machine that is the world - then any of those things must be necessary. This is rather topical for Queenslanders right now, as some of our state-funded school music programmes have just been axed. Not happy, Campbell. Everyone has a natural inclination towards something, and everyone's inclination is a part of the greater whole. Knowing that this is partly autobiographical of the life of the director, Martin Scorsese, makes it even more pointed - all those kids stealing into the movies, acting their dreams, could turn into famous movie directors of the future.
Aside from the machines and dreams, the support-part of the station inspector, played by Sacha Baron Cohen, is delightful. So plodding, so stereotypically police, but giving love advice to his superiors - I'd watch this movie again just for that. And such a different role for this actor that I had to look up who he was (always a good sign). There wasn't as much information on the music that was used, which I would have appreciated as it was really well done.
Today's photo:
The afternoon light in here in the winter warms my heart. Especially when there is a whole stack of fruit in front of the window.
Hugo, living in the clock of a Parisian train station, is literally surrounded by machine - cogs and wheels and things working and things needing to be fixed. If he doesn't keep the station clock wound then he might be found out as an orphan; he also has a need to return his father's automaton to working condition. Looking out over the city one night, he says to his friend Isabelle that he thinks the whole world is a giant machine. And every machine has the exact right number of parts, never any more than is needed. And if the world is a machine with the exact right number of parts, then I must be a necessary part - and so must you. The hard bit, of course, is knowing what your part has to do for the machine to be able to work, what your purpose is in this grand scheme. But it is so hard, sometimes, to remember we are all necessary, even when we feel unimportant and invisible, and even those people who make us uncomfortable or annoyed are also necessary.
One thing Hugo loves is adventure. You know you're having an adventure if there's a chance you could get in trouble (good advice, there). His father used to take him to the movies, and now Hugo will steal into the theatre to watch 'dreams in the middle of the day'. This movie is populated with dreamers. And not the sort of dreamers who just sit around and dream, but those who have a dream and do all they can to reach that dream, no matter how fantastic. Now, some people might think that magic tricks are unnecessary; movies are unnecessary; art and music and poetry are all unnecessary. But if anyone has a particular talent for any of these things - and, as we know now, we are all necessary parts of the giant machine that is the world - then any of those things must be necessary. This is rather topical for Queenslanders right now, as some of our state-funded school music programmes have just been axed. Not happy, Campbell. Everyone has a natural inclination towards something, and everyone's inclination is a part of the greater whole. Knowing that this is partly autobiographical of the life of the director, Martin Scorsese, makes it even more pointed - all those kids stealing into the movies, acting their dreams, could turn into famous movie directors of the future.
Aside from the machines and dreams, the support-part of the station inspector, played by Sacha Baron Cohen, is delightful. So plodding, so stereotypically police, but giving love advice to his superiors - I'd watch this movie again just for that. And such a different role for this actor that I had to look up who he was (always a good sign). There wasn't as much information on the music that was used, which I would have appreciated as it was really well done.
Today's photo:
Sunday, 22 July 2012
Expression of Gratitude
By 'Expression of Gratitude' I don't mean compliments - although they do come in the same category for my brain. I take things as they are, and really have to think about saying 'well done' or 'thank you' or 'nice outfit'. With practice, I am getting better at compliments. I am also improving, I think, at saying thank you. But expression of gratitude, on a deeper level, is uncharted territory for me.
I know that 'counting your blessings' is a good mood-booster (lots of 'o's in those three words). I also know that an expression of gratitude is a valuable thing to receive. When I receive a thank you for something I just do, it is such a delight - and sometimes, as much a blessing for me as it is for the person saying thank you.
Recently, I have been feeling especially thankful. A few things prompted me to write a letter to the people at the heart of things. Although I'd been thinking about this letter frequently, I found it exceptionally hard to write. I'm still not convinced it's the best it could be so I haven't yet sent it - but almost. It is more for me than for them (selfish, I know, but some things need to be done), for me to say, I'm not just here because I haven't found a reason to go, but I'm here because I want to be here.
This is not something I can do too often, but I feel it is an important skill to have in my repertoire.
Today's photo:
My dad had a roast beetroot and feta salad for lunch. Once finished, I found the beetroot juice pattern left on the plate to be particularly appealing.
I know that 'counting your blessings' is a good mood-booster (lots of 'o's in those three words). I also know that an expression of gratitude is a valuable thing to receive. When I receive a thank you for something I just do, it is such a delight - and sometimes, as much a blessing for me as it is for the person saying thank you.
Recently, I have been feeling especially thankful. A few things prompted me to write a letter to the people at the heart of things. Although I'd been thinking about this letter frequently, I found it exceptionally hard to write. I'm still not convinced it's the best it could be so I haven't yet sent it - but almost. It is more for me than for them (selfish, I know, but some things need to be done), for me to say, I'm not just here because I haven't found a reason to go, but I'm here because I want to be here.
This is not something I can do too often, but I feel it is an important skill to have in my repertoire.
Today's photo:
My dad had a roast beetroot and feta salad for lunch. Once finished, I found the beetroot juice pattern left on the plate to be particularly appealing.
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