In Celebrations of Tears

April is National Autism Awareness Month.

My son, Jack, cried the other day because he was sad.

And I was thrilled.

Until that point, he'd only ever cried out of anger, pain, or frustration. All emotions grounded in the concrete. All reactions to something external, usually triggered by being denied something.

He was watching a Wallace and Gromit movie.

"Gromit is a good dog," he says. "And Wallace is a good boy."

"Yes," I respond, "Gromit is a good dog, and Wallace is a good man."

"Yes, Wallace is a good man," he repeats.

"They are good friends," I suggest.

He considers this for a moment, and then his chin begins to quaver and his eyes fill with tears.

I know he is thinking about Luke, our neighbor’s son. Luke is three, a year younger than Jack, and he and his family moved away to Florida a couple of days ago.
Luke and Jack have played together almost every afternoon for the past year.  During the days leading up to the move, the things in Luke's house were slowing consumed by boxes. And sandbox, playhouse, and all of the outdoor toys slowly disappeared.

We'd been talking about Luke's leaving. But it was hard to tell whether Jack really understood what was going on.

He would repeat what he was hearing: "Luke is going away."  "We are having a going away party for Luke and his family."
He would listen dispassionately to descriptions of how we would keep in touch with Luke and his family.

Mostly, he just played as hard as he usually does with Luke.  Jack, Luke, and a couple of the neighborhood boys would congregate almost daily in Luke's backyard. They would run and play for hours, until it was time for dinner.

***

I watch the big tears roll down his cheeks.

"Can I sit next to you?" I ask.   He nods.

"Do you want a hug?" Another nod.

I put my arm around him.

"I miss Luke," I say. He nods again.  We sit like that for awhile, and just as quickly as a summer storm, the tears are gone.

I am happy he is sad, because it is a sign of cognitive development and an indication of emotional bonding. He loves Luke, he misses Luke.

Formally, Jack has pervasive development delay (PDD), one of a myriad of disorders within the spectrum of autism.

For Jack, it means he is immensely gifted with physical coordination and endurance. His gross motor skills are amazing, surpassed only by his ability to memorize dialogue. Truly astounding, he can repeat word for word practically any story he has ever been read to, listened to, or watched.  Of course, he frequently fixates on a particular story: we've been reading The Polar Express for months.  At this point you would think I'd have it memorized too.  Instead, I read it and play games with him. I'll change the words, just to see if he notices. One night, the train becomes a boat mid-way through, and the conductor a captain. He giggles and corrects me, "No, no, Mama! 'The train was surrounded by an apron of steam'!"


Maybe he will be an athlete. If we can help him with his verbal, social, and fine motor skills.

He didn't speak in a way that was intelligible to most people until he was well over three. And, when he did, more often than not it was to rush up to someone and repeat whatever piece of dialogue he was fixating on at that time.


"The 4449 Daylight was the most beautiful steam locomotive," he says to a pretty blonde girl, around three years old and about to go down the slide.

She looks at him the way most children do, quizzically. And then slides down and walks away.

At least that is how the younger children react. Jack will be five in just about a month. When viewed on his own, Jack has made tremendous progress over the past year. Thanks mainly to the wonderful teachers at the Early Childhood program through our local public school. They "get" Jack, and they have specialized training to really help him develop his verbal, social, and fine motor skills.

Now, thanks to their help, he can answer questions, interact with other kids and adults, and (almost) write his name.

He has come so, so very far.  And, yet, when viewed against his peers, he has so very far to go.

I forget, sometimes, that he is "different."  Until we have the occasion to be around other almost-five year olds.  And then the contrast is, well, honestly disheartening.  Because by the time kids are five, they don't just give a funny look and walk away from someone who is different. Sometimes, they have something to say about it, and that something isn't always nice. Jack, for better or worse, seems largely oblivious to their looks and comments.  But as his mother, it breaks my heart. And at the same time, it makes me even more determined.

And so, when he cries, like he did last week, a part of me rejoices. Because it means he can feel. It means he can love. And it means that we have hope, together.

The Mouth May Lie...

Awhile back I went to a conference, and one of the breakout sessions was on communication. It was a panel discussion, and while all of the participants were interesting one in particular stood out.

Her name was Jan Hargrave, and she is a leading authority in non-verbal communication. Fascinating woman, and a powerful speaker. Her topic was a short primer about what has become for her a life focus, and it started with the statement, "The mouth may lie, but the body does not." She went on to talk about how to read someone's non-verbal cues to infer whether they are confident and telling the truth, or whether they are lying.

From what I have read about her, she is a pretty popular guest on some day time talk shows. She has also written several books on the topic. But this was my first exposure to her, and while it is hard to say whether the information she shared is truly helpful, it was at least thought provoking and entertaining. 

She is a slight woman with a large presence. She reminded me of Annie Lennox, but with jet black hair. And she moves with total control and precision, as if every gesture had been pre-meditated.

She talked about how she has been consulted by attorneys to help them in jury selection and also to help them determine how truthful a witness might be. To demonstrate, she has each of us raise our right hand, as if we were to be sworn in. Then she analyzed the way in which we held our hands. Go ahead...try it now...raise your right hand and say, " I swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help me God."  And freeze that pose.

Now, look at your hand.

If your fingers are widely spread, you will tell the truth.

If your fingers are held tightly together, you will tell the truth, but you're not going to volunteer it. They may have to pull it out of you. 

If some of your fingers are together and other apart, then it’s a worst possible combination of the above two: some truths you will volunteer easily, and others they will have to work to get.

And, finally, if the fingers of the hand are curved, or cupped...well...you will tell them what they want to hear, or what suits your purpose best. Liar, liar, pants on fire.

Jan also went on to describe gestures those who are lying use when talking, and explained that because telling lies takes creativity, these gestures tend to involve the left side of the body. The right side of brain, the part that controls creativity, intuition, and subjectivity, controls the left side of the body.  She suggested that when talking to someone about a matter than involves the truth to be aware of the following:

• Tugging or pulling on the left ear with the left hand.
• Rubbing the nose with the left hand.
• Covering the mouth with the left hand.

It made me think about how one of my idiosyncratic gestures is to sometimes twirl my hair, on the left side of my head, with my left hand. And that the only times I do this is when I am lost in thought over a problem or situation that I am brainstorming. A physical manifestation of my creativity?

Jan shared more about her work, and gave more entertaining stories to illustrate the art of interpreting non-verbal communication. She has a website, if you are interested in learning more about her and/or this topic:http://www.janhargrave.com/

One word of caution however: Think twice before you try out the "raise your hand and swear to tell the truth" game, especially with your friends. You (or they) might not like the interpretation.

Like this? Want to learn more about body language, this time as it relates to how to tell if someone is attracted to you? Check out Droopy Socks and Dangling Shoes

The Red Pillar

So, I feel the need to warn you upfront that the following topic might be at best a bit unusual, and at worst too heavy on the "ew" factor.  Not to mention that it might give you cause to wonder what kind of person sits around and ponders these things.  

Before we dive right in, I thought (maybe in my own defense) that I might explain a bit how this topic came to mind. I'm not a spontaneously creative person. But I am a collector and a synthesizer of trivia and creative detritus.  The inspiration for this topic originated from a couple of posts in a Myspace forum and, well, getting my period. 

One post was a question along the lines of "If you could go back in time, in what time would you want to live?" I didn't respond to it, but I did give it some thought. My conclusion was that if going back in time meant that I had to do so as a woman, then the only time period I would want to live in would be the current one.  With small exception, women throughout history have not had anything close to the same rights as men, and occasionally have had barely the rights of animals.

The second post was by a young woman who is working on a paper about post-modernism and relationships, who asked for thoughts on the impact of being culturally connected via technology has on modern relationships. A few people had already responded to her by the time I saw her note. It got me thinking about how until relatively recently relationship = marriage. And that people entered into marriage for far different reason than many do now. Back then, marriage was largely about economic security for women and for a social structure in which to create and raise children. Today, relationship sometimes never = marriage, and people tend to have many more relationships before marrying. The factors driving people to marry have also changed. Women, for example, are far more economically, socially, and sexually emancipated. 

All of this got me thinking about how much has changed for the better for women, at least in economically developed countries. But what was it that changed, that allowed women to reach for greater equality, for economic, social, and sexual freedom? Two obvious changes were The Pill and abortion. With The Pill to help us avoid pregnancy and abortion to end a pregnancy, we could choose when to have children (if at all) and could spend the intervening years working, educating ourselves, and gaining economic power. 

I was having great fun with these musings. And then I got my period. 

Now, if you are a woman, you can truly appreciate this when I say that this was no ordinary period. It was a Bad One. I'd had surgery a few weeks ago, and the post-op instructions indicated that it might affect my cycle. In reality this translated into being over a week late, and having worse cramping and heavier bleeding than usual. For the men who've read this far…aside from the physical discomfort, what sucks about having a period is that even if your cycle is fairly regular, it is never completely predictable. It is the proverbial red shoe waiting to drop.

But putting this menstrual situation to the side, I still was hung up on how women have achieved emancipation in part by gaining control over their bodies. And it made me wonder how women in the past have dealt with menstruation. 

The Museum of Menstruation & Women's Heath was founded by (brace yourselves) Harry Finley. Yes, a man. It was a physical museum from 1994-98, and hosted 1,500 visitors a year. It still exists, in virtual form (www.mum.org), and is an unbelievable wealth of all things menstruate, and is the source for any of the remotely authoritative information shared here.

Did you know, for example, that your choices for dealing with your menstrual flow include more than just sanitary napkins or tampons? You could choose to use a menstrual cup, which is exactly as it sounds: a soft rubber or latex cup that fits into the vagina and collect the fluids. The first patent for a menstrual cup was obtained by Leona Chalmer's in the 1930's, and the virtues of it were extolled in her pamphlet "The Intimate Side of a Woman's Life."  There are several companies world-wide who still manufacture these things. I'd be curious if anyone has had firsthand experience with using one. And, seriously, if you find these types of quirky sociological topics fascinating, you could lose yourself for hours in Harry's web site.

I was most interested, however, in information about how women have dealt with menstruation in the past. Unfortunately, there isn't a lot of historical documentation on this subject 1) because this is about women, and women tend to be rather invisible throughout most of history and 2) this is about menstruation, which if not outright a taboo topic is definitely not something most women want to talk about.  What I did find out was rather shocking. According to Harry, prior to the 1900's, it appears that most American and European women who were not of the moneyed or ruling classes probably used nothing at all to staunch these monthly bleeding. They bleed directly into their clothes or underpants (if they wore any). 

I will let you contemplate that, for a moment.

If your reaction was anything like mine, it was to envision a past that was a whole lot smellier than I'd ever imagined. (And I'd already figured it was pretty smelly…given the infrequency of baths, etc.)  And messier.  

Harry hypothesizes that those of the upper classes did use some kind of cloth/rags and belt contraption. Since many did not, often they bled directly into their chemise or dress. Or if they were factory workers, they bled onto the floor, which was sometimes layered with clean hay. Rather like how one would deal with a cow or horse. 

Now, to put this all in perspective, keep in mind that women menstruated less frequently in the past, mainly because they started puberty later (onset of puberty being linked directly to body fat percentage; which also explains why in our increasingly obese society girls are starting their periods earlier and earlier), they had more children and so spent more of their lives pregnant, and they also breastfed longer. 

However, even with less menstruation going on, an important implication of all of this is that a woman's reproductive cycle was also a whole lot more obvious in the past than it is today. I speculate this is exactly why during the 1800/1900's that dealing with this messy, smelly, obvious indicator of fertility might be something worth getting inventive about. As industrialism kicked in, there were more opportunities for women to work outside of the home. Going to work with a blood soaked chemise, reeking of fertility, would not necessarily be the most conducive to a productive work environment. Hence, the first commercial, disposable menstrual pads were manufactured in the late 1800's.

So, to The Pill and abortion, I suggest we add Management of Menstruation as the third pillar that supports the emancipation of women. I find it interesting to note that these pillars are all ways that allow women to claim some element of control over their reproductive organs.  Could it be that we gained more equality when the controls we gained over reproduction allowed us to behave more like men? Or to at least not wear the indicators of our fertility on our chemise?