Oh so Cuteeeee!
It was just an ordinary conversation.
Howie and I were in the car. It was just the two of us, on our way home from working at the sensory gym. As is our usual routine, Tim picked up the other two boys and took them home for dinner and Howie stayed with me to finish his homework and play.
While driving, I started talking about the new skating rink that opened up in our town and asked him if he thought he’d like to take lessons.
“Oh yes!” he said excitedly.
“They have special lesson times set aside for kids with sensory issues. Do you think you’d like that?”
We haven’t had the whole “autism” talk yet. Or the partial talk. Or whatever it will end up being. For now, we’re at “sensory issues”. Because for Howie, that’s the most tangible and easiest for him to understand, both…
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It’s been a wobbly week here in Paradise. I received, in two separate batches, the first sets of anonymous critiques of my opening chapter.
And that’s my post. Thanks for stopping by.
No, seriously. When the critique bundles landed in my e-mail, I scanned for disaster, then perused them without breathing (maybe that’s why I nearly passed out). I set them aside and eliminated 5,000 words from Chapter One. As a start.
A few days on. I reread the critiques. And I smiled. Eight writers saw my work. Eight published authors had criticisms and suggestions–some delivered far more gracefully than others–to make my story cleaner, snappier. Richer.
But I have to admit, I’ve put myself in a bit of a sticky place. I submitted these pages to a group of writers planted within a specific genre of fiction. More than that: a sub-genre of genre fiction. I picked a thematic…
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I’m sitting at Starbucks, which I rarely do. Its hard to knit there. I lot of people still find it weird for a man to be knitting in public. But, for us fellas that knit, its nothing short of ordinary. There are MANY people that see us, see what we’re doing and find themselves asking us lots of questions. And they have no problem stopping to ask questions while you’re in the middle of counting.
I’ve been asked on numerous occasion in email if I ever go out to knit with groups or have knitting friends. Sadly, I don’t. I’m too busy counting. I can’t lift my head from the stitches to hear what’s being said. I’m so focused. I’m there with the rows, both knit side and purl sides facing with the work, and the rest of the world falls away into….well, nothing.
So, I’m at said Starbucks working…
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It has become commonplace to hear the term “politically correct” tossed around in all sorts of circles. The way I see it, non-PC statements are only a problem because they are indicative of a deeper problem in the way people think. But staying politically correct does not solve this or any problem. In fact, by eliminating discussion and acknowledgment, we have created a bigger problem.
Enforcing political correctness is censorship. If we believe certain racist, sexist, and otherwise insensitive or discriminatory ideas and behaviors are bad, it makes sense that we want to stop them. But by forcing people to use specific terminology or avoid certain conversation topics, we are going about it all wrong. Staying “politically correct” is not medicine for the problems that exist—it’s a band-aid to cover up the wounds.
In addition, its goals are all wrong. Political correctness doesn’t teach people to be mindful of problems…
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