Mentorship right under my nose

What a week last week was! Four school night's out can nearly do me in.  Each night was worthy: an ASA film festival, our Banding Together board meeting, the Miracle Project launch in San Diego, a Kingsmen gig, Young Life fundraiser and Prom!!  Yet, on the heels of these daytime highlights: Allie presenting her "senior legacy" (one of 7 voted by classmates), an IEP, extra rehearsals and of course the up-do hair appointment, nails and pre-prom prep, they created a dizzying array of highpoints necessitating several take out dinners and a do-nothing Sunday.

Life is full. Where to start?

How 'bout with a line from yesterday's sermon? Summarizing a sermon on discipleship, our pastor implored us to, "look behind you, and see who's following you." All of us have opportunities to mentor and be mentored.

I saw this Friday night. A group of young musicians, The Dudes' Bandslam, are steadily following Reid and his Kingsmen bandmates. The Dude's Bandslam has been together a little more than a year. They opened Friday night for The Kingsmen who've been gigging for five years.

Mentoring is one of the key buzz words embedded in the threefold mission of Banding Together: to give music therapy scholarships, mentorships and instruments to youth with special needs. We toil in trial and error to create the first chicken, or is it the egg, of a mentorship program.  Gaining momentum, we were just awarded a grant from WRAMTA for a series of Jam Sessions linking local musicians with kids. Another smashing success that's evolving are Soundcheck Jams with touring musicians at the Belly Up Tavern. They deserve a post of their own.

Try as we might, it seems the most solid example of mentorships is right under our nose. It was obvious last Friday night; The Kingsmen themselves are the mentors!  How often is this how God works?  His ways are mysterious and higher than ours.  While we're busy compulsively planning good things, He hits a pop fly into left field. His upside-down Kingdom way never ceases to surprise and delight me. It makes me laugh honestly, in acknowledgment that it is so much better than anything we could have asked for or even imagined--around any brainstorming board table.

Back to the gig: the Dudes' Bandslam played the first set at our coffeehouse fundraiser.  We do a series of 6 of these throughout the school year.  Local high school bands and jazz ensembles perform, invite their own following. By selling raffle tickets, we raise money and awareness for music therapy.  Each one is awesome in its own right, having a different flavor depending on the crowd and tenor of the band.

I'm biassed obviously, but the last one of the season is special because it puts our mission into 3-D. Kids--with autism, who've grown up with music therapy--are up on stage rocking the casbah in order to raise money so kids like them, but younger can get the same benefits. Innately, they demonstrate our mission better than any board member could articulate it. They embody the mission. It rocks!

So, this tongue-tied board member hopes you can see from the pictures what took place. A community turned out.  Their were so many webs of connection between the audience--from church from Miracle League baseball, from the chiropractors office, from Capernaum.  Everyone knew somebody. That made for a receptive, encouraging environment.  Nervous as they were, the boys had the crowd whether they remembered the lyrics or sang off key.  Dancing in the aisle and hooting was encouraged.  We--because I include myself in the bunch--were like a bunch of college freshman having our first beers at a frat house. Crazy and carefree...

The paparazzi rivaled a royal wedding. In addition to the professional photographer, Stacy Bostrom, who volunteered (her portraits of kids make me drool), there were 3 videos rolling, a couple SLR's, and every iPhone in the place. Again, whether they kept or missed the beat, this was going down in history. Note: these pics are from my phone; hers will follow.

By the time the second set came around, our partner sorority Alpha Xi Delta had collected $400.  The Kingsmen took the stage and brought it home. Reid took the announcements from there. As front man, he has developed a comfortable schtick telling the audience where else they perform and what he likes best about being in the band.  On a roll this time, he even gave the last call for raffle tickets and said, "we messed up" when one of the songs had a false start.  No worries, they are seasoned performers. One comrade mom who has known Reid since our boys were kindergartners riding horses was mesmerized, "I don't think I've ever heard Reid speak." Such is the transformational power of music--and the stage for him.

That's when I saw it. On the overstuffed loveseat sat the entire Dudes' Slamband squished together, almost on each other's laps. The four of them, elated their set was done, watched every move The Kingsmen made.  Wielding drumsticks in the air, they copied unabashedly showing us how mentorship works. Never mind the local pros, The Kingsmen were mentoring them--modeling how it's done--breaking down the next steps--showing rather than telling what it is to be a band.

They need to have an encore ready next time, for they brought down the house!  Everyone wanted more.  Adrenaline rushing through his veins, Reid broadcast to every lingering fan, "Mom, I did an awesome job! That deserves a treat." He doesn't need a microphone.  Once home, he remained on top of the world spouting off another historic one-liner: "Mom, I DO wanna do more gigs. When's the next one?"  The thrill of living one's destiny feeds on itself and can't help but be passed along.

This from the boy who hours before didn't want to go. No one would have guessed how nervous he had been beforehand.  I hope he doesn't remember either:)


Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us,  Hebrews 12:1-3


What I mean is this: One of you says, “I follow Paul”; another, “I follow Apollos”; another, “I follow Cephas ”; still another, “I follow Christ.”  1 Corinthians 1:11-13

Dancing with Mal

I just finished Emily Colson's book, Dancing with Max. It is a terrific read disclosing her journey getting to know both her dad and her son all at once. Her faith and immense love--themselves gifts from God--are central themes enabling her to appreciate that her son with autism is a gift. Her masterful writing and disarming humor refresh the familiar story line of diagnosis to acceptance. I could particularly relate (as in, laugh outloud) to this excerpt:

Max had an appointment with a doctor who specialized in integrative medicine. He wasn't one of those crystal-worshiping, incense-burning practitioners, but a rather sophisticated doctor utilizing both alternative and conventional practices... He needed Max's treatment history, and of course, in the process, he would realize I was not neglectful crackhead parent, but a serious overachiever-type mom. The cross hanging around my neck would speak of my faith, my commitment, my clean lifestyle. I even found a way to tell him that I'd spoken at several area conferences, just in case he might need such a service. All those years as a graphic designer creating corporate identities taught me the power of communicating the right image. I pictured this doctor eventually inviting us into his home, telling me secret cures for autism, while he stood at his kitchen counter mixing Chinese mushroom powder into wheat grass. And he would realize that helping Max, the innocent child of a loving Christian and by-no-possible-fault-of-her-own single mother, was his life's mission.

"Does he have any language?" the doctor asked as Max sat silently outside the door.

"Oh, yes. It doesn't come easily, but he uses full sentences now," I answered.

He fired off a list of questions about sleep habits, diet, digestion, but kept coming back to the issue of language. "You said he does speak, is that correct? He's right outside my office door, and . . . I don't think I've heard him say anything."

"Yes, he's just very anxious here," I explained as if we were colleagues.

Our appointment was nearing an end, and I was pleased at the doctor's willingness to order numerous laboratory tests. "Could your son come in so that I could talk with him a bit? Would

he do that?" he asked.

"Maybe," I answered. "Max," I called as I looked into the hall. "Can you come sit with Mommy for a minute? Then we'll be all done and do something fun." Max stood up as if he always followed my requests and entered the examination room. The doctor greeted him, but Max brushed past his desk and stood silently at the window gazing out over the Cambridge neighborhood. "Good job Max," I proudly commended. "We're going to do something fun next."

And then it happened. My son must have a locator device implanted in his brain, because it only took him two seconds to see into a storefront window on the street below that obviously had commercial refrigerators. And with that motivation, my son spoke his first, and what would be his only, words for the doctor to hear.

"Mom, after this we can go to the liquor store."

Delighted at the prospect, Max walked out and sat beside my mother, who looks as much like an alcoholic as Mary Poppins.

The doctor's eyes shone on me like headlights. I was so busy being perfect that I forgot to laugh. The more I tried to explain, the worse it looked; he wasn't buying the whole refrigerator-obsession thing.

She has been there! I have been there. She has been where I have been! Thank you Lord that you do whatever it takes to free us from a spirit of pride.

It happens bit by bit--like becoming real. Reid, like Max, has taught his mom many things, not the least of which is to recognize embarrassment as the indicator light of pride. Having a son with absolutely no social inhibition continues to set me free from a fear of man.

Allie too. Just last week, she recalled sitting in a theater dying a thousand deaths because her brother was "so embarrassing." "What was he doing?" I'd forgotten. "Being overly happy," was her description. Is that such a crime? It's exactly what he does though. He expresses uncontainable joy so much so that it's socially unacceptable.

Even when he was a toddler, I found it hard to correct him for being too gleeful during library storytime, too excited to meet Mary Poppins at Disneyland, or euphoric when Souplantation had Barney bean salad (our term, not theirs) in the buffet smorgasbord. Gradually (unable to control or contain it), I've come to realize that it is more my problem than his. He embodies joy. That is a gift to those who receive it. And if it bothers someone on the way, that is their problem.

Now only a vestige of my pride remains. I recognize it in this clip of Reid cutting loose at a recent Banding Together coffeehouse concert. He's the one--the only one--on the dance floor doing aerial 360's. I am one feigning nonchalance in the black and white raincoat. Who's the woman dancing with him unabashedly? That is Malvina. Thank you Lord for friends who have more love than pride . . . who dole it out liberally all over everybody . . . who don't squelch his exuberance. If you can't beat 'em, join 'em.

Gladness and joy will overtake them, and sorrow and sighing will flee away. Isaiah 35:9-10

The LORD is my strength and my shield; my heart trusts in him, and he helps me. My heart leaps for joy, and with my song I praise him. Psalm 28:6-8

Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins. 1 Peter 4:7-9

Serendipitous Victory

Some nights it just all comes together! (like it was planned in advance)

Last Saturday was the third in a series of six Youth Helping Youth concerts to raise money for Banding Together, a nonprofit with a mission is to provide music therapy scholarships and mentorships to kids with special needs. The Kingsmen have been the de facto poster band for Banding Together since it began. Certainly, they epitomize the mission. They are no longer alone, however. This once-a-month opportunity has attracted interest from other local high school bands who love applause just as much. And two new special needs bands are forming.

The Pacific Ridge School Rock Jazz Ensemble, Vast Zephyr, Dirty Gold, The Third Edition and North Coast Singers Capella group are also getting in on the action, performing to share their passion for music and raise money for kids with special needs who wouldn't otherwise be able to afford music therapy. They know firsthand the power music has to motivate.

Unbenownst to me, a professional videographer in the audience offered up his gifts in the moment to capture the evening and the cause on film. Thank you Sean Horton! Reid got roped into the interview since I'm the last to leave. I don't think he minded, do you?

What do you see? More than money raised, the quality of the actual performance, or number in attendance, I see joyful happy moms who once feared letting their boys play in public. I see an inclusive community of all ages. I see respect for differences. I see admiration. I see innate leadership skills in kids who are marginalized in other contexts. I see joy. I see freedom that comes through the power of music. I see full engagement. I see proud fathers in attendance. I see peace. I see the Kingdom.

David told the leaders of the Levites to appoint their fellow Levites as musicians to make a joyful sound with musical instruments: lyres, harps and cymbals. 1 Chronicles 15:15-17

Applaud God, all people! His love has taken over our lives; God's faithful ways are eternal. Hallelujah! Psalm 117:1-2 The Message

your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Matthew 6:9-11

February Podcast: Paula Dawson

Paula is a woman who gives real meaning to the word, sweet. She is kind to the marrow.

Here's a glimpse of her last Friday winning a night out at a happening local nightclub. (who knew?) Spending time with Paula makes me feel like the lucky winner.

On Monday nights, she is found fully engaged in the waiting room at the Music Therapy Center of California. Our own permutation of a support group has resulted from our boys being in The Kingsmen band together. While they rehearse, we (four moms and grandma) talk. It's a sacred time. Paula listens and speaks with style, grace and humor. Never flustered, quick to laugh, always willing to help, Paula is a balm in Gilead.

I consider her an inspiration to the autism community. Last night she was gracious enough to let me ask her a couple questions while recording:

Click Autism Unplugged Paula Dawson.mp3 or the play button below.

I always wanted to do a photo montage of Conor in the famous Fantasia pose we mentioned. His bravado thrills me at every performance.

Any Readers in NYC?

Did I tell you about the NYU film student, Michelle Delateur, who found The Kingsmen on Myspace? I think not...so behind. In any case, she came, she filmed, she edited...and Rockism, the documentary featuring Reid's band, is ready.

The screening will be January 29th at 11:00am on the NYU campus with Christiane Amanpour, CNN correspondent, as the guest speaker. I can't get there but maybe you can.

Reid's the one on the trampoline at the very beginning. That's my boy!

Yubo Would Go

Once a quarter, our weekends turn into marathons of active duty requiring 2 fully caffeinated adults on a mission to divide and conquer, in order to accomplish the intricate array of rehearsals, call times, college fairs, recitals, practices, and gigs (not their own) laid out in a 30-mile radius.

To pull it off last Saturday, I needed Yubo's help. Jim and I both wanted to see The Kingsmen's noontime concert at the American Music Therapy Conference. Kat had to work. Allie doesn't drive for another 6 months.

I called Yubo to ask my favor. Could he transport Allie from symphony to chamber? Once he realized who I was, "yes, no problem."

I continued with my female incantation of the why's and wherefore's of our scheduling conflict. We'd get her downtown and home at the end, but that middle run cross-town coincided with Reid's gig. It would be oh-so-helpful if he would do it. Of course, he'd already said yes, but I felt the need to embellish.

"Don't worry. I get her there," came his crisp reply.

Oh, I know you will Yubo, I thought to myself and on time. What a guy!

Moms (Open Mic) Night Out

What did you do for Mother's Day? When Jim asked me how I wanted to celebrate the day, I took it as a round tuit to do something I've been meaning to experience for awhile: Open Mic Night at the nearby E Street Cafe. Rallying the troops for such an off-beat adventure on a Sunday night is ordinarily difficult; on Mother's Day it was a shoo-in. Jim was thrilled to get off so easy. My wish was his command.

One thing you must know in advance:

Compliments of his new school, Reid has a thorough and effective Behavior Intervention Plan. One of the replacement behaviors they have taught him is to "move to a quiet area" (to replace throwing a shoe, running for a plate glass window, or biting your neighbor). Handy skill, well worth teaching. They've identified the antecedents to each of his maladaptive behaviors and itemized them for the benefit of all. During calm moments, Reid recites, writes, and is otherwise drilled on the five occurrences that warrant "moving to a quiet area" to pre-empt the meltdowns. The goal being for Reid to internalize these explicit triggers to his own agitation, take a minute away, and self-regulate eventually without even a prompt from the teacher. The plan is scientific, genius, and strategically comprehensive. His particular five reasons to move to a quiet area, which are committed to memory:


1. feeling silly

2. work is hard

3. others are loud

4. difficulty concentrating

5. difficulty communicating



I had several motives for getting to the Open Mic Night. Re-living my college days was not one of them--although that was a perk. (The vibe was reminiscent of The Rathskeller at the University of Wisconsin-Madison Student Union.) Rather, it seemed to be a relatively low frills, low cost night out for the whole family (ie. engaging everyone's interest). In addition, I am currently on the look-out for places to take Reid and his fellow Kingsmen band members to socialize (move beyond bowling), expose them to other performers, and scout out possible performance venues. Before I invited all four of the teens, I figured I better see whether censorship would be required.

We had a relaxed, lovely family "date" for less than $20 in just over an hour. No dirty jokes were delivered. Two guys who looked like twins in white t-shirts and jeans (note to self: this is what cool guys wear) played original, acoustic songs they'd written in the style of Jack Johnson or James Taylor. Reid enjoyed them, adding a little percussion by beating on our belly bar table and the one next to us. Although we tried to discourage him from getting up and actually dancing, once we received the warm smile from a 20-something, female patron bored with her computer, we relaxed into the scene. Most folks were engaged primarily with their laptops. The poor JT-wannabes were providing ambience at most. Reid was, in fact, flattering them with his rapt attention and adding to the entertainment value.

The third contestant was "Big Eddie." The cafe owner introduced him awkwardly, "Do you really want me to call you, Big Eddie?" Eddie was merely paunchy, a 70's boomer with an electric guitar and rhythm track to back him up.

He gave a shout out to Reid having eyeballed him in the smallish crowd, "Hey I need a drummer, if you're interested," and invited others to "shake your bootie if you want to." Reid got back on his feet (a notable moment of compliance) and poised his legs like a hoofer in an audition for Chorus Line. Now he had permission to tap his feet alternately right and left, and snap tap his fingers! Gotta love natural inclusion opportunities!! Big Eddie was cool with me.

He interspersed a few lyrics he'd written between lengthy guitar solos. A total departure from the other two, Big Eddie was more of an Eddie Van Halen wannabe. I wondered where his wife and kids were. They would have been identifiable in the intimate audience. During the fifth guitar solo, Jim commented, "This is why I sold my amp and electric guitar." Not Big Eddie. He's stickin' with it! A rocker for life.

After his third song, "Cosmic Love," we called it a night and headed home. Sunday is a school night. Very amusing, good clean fun, a peanut butter cookie and a tasty macchiato made for a happy camper van headed home on Mother's Day.

The punch line is this: at bedtime as we were tucking Reid in, reflecting on the novelty of the evening, openly laughing at the memory, Reid chimed in, "I think Big Eddie needs to move to a quiet area."

The high-level cognitive function that goes into a comment like that was not lost on me. It was a special treat to hear evidence that he has generalized his behavior plan, not only into our home environment but also projected it onto others in coffee houses. The comment attested to his sense of humor, ability to track and process the conversation, and put himself into others' shoes. Big Eddie was "being silly." Or was he?




They sing to the music of tambourine and harp; they make merry to the sound of the flute. Job 21:11-13



A word aptly spoken is like apples of gold in settings of silver.
Proverbs 25:10-12



Immediately Jesus made his disciples get into the boat and go on ahead of him to Bethsaida, while he dismissed the crowd. After leaving them, he went up on a mountainside to pray. When evening came, the boat was in the middle of the lake, and he was alone on land. Mark 6:46-48

Kingsmen Rock!

The Kingsmen recorded a debut CD last month. I hardly know where to begin to itemize the cornucopia of blessings it holds.

It is beautiful from so many angles. Takes me back to a sculpture class I took for my art history degree. There was something so obvious, yet eye-opening about walking around a work of art to appreciate it, as opposed to standing in one spot in front of a painting.

Music, even more than sculpture, is multi-dimensional, changing with each hearing, venue, and circumstance of the listener. 

The Kingsmen is a band of four guys who are all clients of the Music Therapy Center of California. They range in age from 10-15 and rehearse weekly with Rachel Gant as a facilitator. Charlie, Conor, Kenton and Reid hone many skills in order to make music together. They interact as a team, read each other's body language, listen intently for cues, tolerate diverse senses of humor, exercise patience, and encourage each other to new milestones. Their commitment and willingness to perform have yielded an incredible sense of confidence and achievement in each of them.

Without any precedent of what to expect, the Kingsmen pulled out all the stops to capture their current repertoire of hits including Three Little Birds by Bob Marley, Meant to Live by Switchfoot, and the live crowd pleaser, Hang On Sloopy. Each of the band members have a solo on the CD which rounds out the project. During the 3-hour recording session there were many smiles, and a definite mix of jubilation, fatigue, and concentration. Working toward a common goal, the boys now have something concrete to show for their efforts and share with the world. They are proud of the outcome!

I am proud of Ted Vaughn and Chris Hobson who made the recording session a reality at our church, Solana Beach Presbyterian Church. Ted has an interest in all things musical. More than that, he has caught the gestalt of the Kingsmen. Like a quarterback clutching a pigskin and driving toward the end zone, he has philosophically embraced what the band has to offer others in our community.  Everybody scores when they enter the spotlight and do their thing, rather than be relegated to the sidelines. Chris defies description. With the mystery of a kid-whisperer and his impeccable ears for sonic integrity, he is silently impressive. The interaction between these minds was something to behold.

At my first hearing of the recording, I used the word, "sweet" (of course, I am the Mom). The second time, "heartwarming" came to mind. I've landed on "endearing." Others say it has "raw honesty" and "tells the story of these guys." Kenton's rendition of Ingrid Michaelson's "The Way I Am" brings tears to your eyes. 

These boys are fast becoming young men; they have come a long way from "early intervention." Now they are finding a niche in society. In an effort to stay age-appropriate, their music therapy has morphed from one-on-one sessions to this more demanding and normalizing social experience of being in a band. Music is a bridge that can catapult them into "real world" encounters.

They played last year at a local Border's bookstore, Christmas on the Promenade, and several Walk Now for Autism events. What we find at these gigs is that despite their emerging musicianship and irregardless of their performance any given night, the boys have a message of struggle, promise, and victory that is universally relevant and inspiring. The manager at Border's commented that they were better than any in-store event he'd ever booked. Mind you, I know they weren't better technically, but their effort was greater and as a result the experience seems richer to the audience. Like the widow who gave her last mite, these guys are walking parables. Many life lessons are magnified by their example. Oddly, (and fortunately, for the moms listening in trepidation in the wings) not much explanation is needed for the audience to "get it." The boys can't hide their struggle or their success. People are moved for reasons that are hard to deny and don't need to be explained.

They will play at our church during December. I am both nervous and excited about this.  I can't help but hear countless Biblical foundations through The Kingsmen. Perhaps they are able to convey these truths more profoundly than the professional worship leaders we are used to hearing up front. Precepts from the Bible jump off the pages when they deliver culturally relevant lyrics like "you know you gotta help me out...." from the Killers "All These Things that We've Done" or "we were meant to live for so much more..."from Switchfoot or "don't worry about a thing..." from Bob Marley.  Are those not doctrinal sound bites that resonate with God's Word? No wonder they're so full of hope!

Now, I must figure out how to load MP3's on a blog.

If one falls down, his friend can help him up. But pity the man who falls and has no one to help him up!  Ecclesiastes 4:9-11


Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.  Matthew 6:33-34


What good will it be for a man if he gains the whole world, yet forfeits his soul? Or what can a man give in exchange for his soul?  Matthew 16:25-27

"I tell you the truth," he said, "this poor widow has put in more than all the others." 

Luke 21:2-4

More Music Mastro

Ours was a weekend full of music that ran the gamut from Kibbles Rockin' Clubhouse hits to Coldplay covers to Mussorgsky's Hopak from "Sorochinsky Fair." Scratching in my mind are partial tracks from each of these as I face Monday morning. My husband was hanging on by the hair of his chinny chin chin to keep up with the whirlwind schedule the kids and I had memorized.  Reid sang at least 4 times from the Walk Now for Autism stage on Saturday.  Allie played flute in the first San Diego Youth Symphony concert of the season. High brow, low brow, we were all over town.

The San Diego Youth Symphony honors a music educator each year who has devoted their career to developing young musicians.  Dean Hickman, chosen this year, gave a brief but moving acceptance speech. You know I love music and its myriad benefits are already swirling around like visions of sugarplums in my head. I spent last week helping write the mission statement and vision for Banding Together, a non-profit organization newly established "to make music with people with special needs to unleash their creative potential and connect in community." (I've memorized that after tweaking and typing it so many times.)  

So, Mr. Hickman's sentiments are ringing in my ears.  As he eloquently said, music is the universal language.  By teaching it, we prepare future leaders of the world with character, discipline, and skills in every discipline from math and physics to diplomacy and foreign language.  His own son grew up in the ranks of the SDYS and is now a principal trumpet player for a symphony in the midwest. He told of international travel opportunities where students unable to communicate one word of each other's language could sit down and engage at length over a piece of Mozart music.  So strong is the language of music. Agreed.

Given our family dynamic, I couldn't help but notice one itty bitty inaccuracy. When the inimitable conductor touted his truly outstanding program, he pointed out the beauty of this annual concert is that it features all five levels of the SDYS program thereby displaying the development and progression of musicians through every ability level. Well...almost every ability.  

I am not suggesting that the SDYS take on students with diagnosed disability. But rather, wouldn't it be nice if a similar program existed that really was fully inclusive? Well, it just soon may! 

Maybe not in the classical vein but with a similar goal of developing musical talent at all levels. Only a few precedents exist that I have been able to unearth. The Naturals is a band in Chicago founded by music therapists at the Creative Music Exchange. They have attained attention from the media here if you want to hear them.

Keys to the Studio in Toronto is another one.  People inside and outside the disability world are excited about this place.  News coverage lists the professionals who volunteer and connect under the studio roof.  Listening to the CBC audio interview with founders, John Jowitt and Salina Eldon, gives me goosebumps.  As he says, "music is an open, infinite field that allows for all kinds of sound.  It is also a method of communication and a way of seeing what's in peoples' minds. The connection that you develop when playing music with someone is very strong...and leads to social connection..which is really helpful integrating people with each other."  I want to meet this guy!

In order to allow artistic expression and build trust, there is no right and wrong at Keys to the Studio.  Doesn't this smack wonderfully of Greenspan's Floortime and RDI?  By following the child's lead, withholding preconceived expectations and accepting each other's ideas as valuable, we build relationship and engagement.  As this generation of autism grows up, the world will need more programs like this for teens and young adults.

As I manned the MTCCA booth last Saturday at the Walk, I was quickly reminded how much music has driven and transformed Reid's development.  I could honestly say to the throngs of parents filing through the resource fair:  "Reid grew up the songs in the In Harmony curriculum. Before they were published, Angela used them in her private sessions with him."  "Until age 8, everything he knew he'd learned through music" (counting, the alphabet, greetings, sharing, Bible verses, the Lord's prayer, days of the week, months of the year, continents).  "Music engages him instantly because with it he can access both sides of his brain." 

We call her Lady Babyish now, but the female voice on an old Discovery Toys (check out the new Autism Program on their site) "Sounds Like Fun" cassette was his first teacher.  She covered a lot of ground with him at naptime, bedtime, and drive time.  Thankfully, we've progressed from there to more age-appropriate musical selections.  Much to my dismay, my car radio is now tuned to Star 94 and I am having to edify "Laura's Dirt" and Jeff and Jer's morning show on a regular basis.  Reid, "you know 'dirt' is actually gossip which is harmful. Remember what Judy Rogers (another awesome early musical educator in Bible literacy) sang about the seven things God hates"? Be that as it may, music remains a great vehicle for lifetime learning, recreation, and "therapy" at any level.

The vision for Banding Together includes a recording studio space where professional and amateur musicians, of truly ALL abilities, can pursue their passion together. Turning obsession into vocation as Temple Grandin exemplifies and advocates in her book, "Developing Talents," can happen--not in a vacuum--but in community with others who share the same passion. Through mentorship, jam sessions, workshops, open mic nights and recording opportunities, we intend to take the goals of the SDYS to the "n"th degree. Stay tuned...

As they make music they will sing, "All my fountains are in you." 

Psalm 87:6-7

So I was afraid and went out and hid your talent in the ground. 

Matthew 25:24-26


But each man has his own gift from God; one has this gift, another has that. 

1 Corinthians 7:6-8

There are six things the LORD hates, seven that are detestable to him.  

Proverbs 6:15-17

I Hate Charts! (but I just made another one)

Do you share my age-old dilemma of how to motivate fill-in-child's-name-here?  What do I need to do to get him to do what I want done? What reinforcer will be motivating this week? What behavior of mine do I have to change to impact his? Should I do what the experts suggest, what the specialists promote, what I'm good at, or what works?  And what does work? In the end it seems, all of us resort to some sort of chart. Can I tell you something? I have grown to hate them.

Reidy has an Achiever strength by all measures. Still I wonder, at what point will he--will he ever--be intrinsically motivated to do his personal best? Will he always need the proverbial carrot?

We had a private teacher at home for awhile with Reid.  At the time, she split her time between two boys on the spectrum who could not be more different, despite carrying the same label. Becky had to dramatically alter her incentive and motivation plan from one house to the next. This made me feel better about my homeschooling tenure. If it wasn't obvious to her, then I hadn't been so stupid to have missed it all those years before.  For one of her students, the ultimate fire under his tail was her simple statement, "alright, if you're not going to do your work, then I will have to call your mother."  I was amazed to hear that was the extent of her strategy (and concerned that she might not have enough tools in her kit to handle what Reid was dishing out at the time).  What a stark contrast to the hoops we'd jump through to get my son to simply come to the table, let alone put his name in the right hand corner!

Completely different personalities, same diagnosis (didn't I just write about this?).  One boy is a rule follower; mine is not.  Mine is a boundary crossing, envelope pushing, rule breaker. Draw him a line, he jumps across it.   Give him a threat, and in the immortalized words of Clint Eastwood, he'll make your day!

So, my darling boy is no longer homeschooled, nor does he attend the touchy-feely, "work with me, not on me" holistic school of my original preference.  In order to make some quantifiable progress, he now attends a highly-structured, scientifically-based, "behavior mod is our specialty" school.  Not a pretty picture always.  Let me tell you what I see there: a lot of charts!!

My sadness is not that I can't help in the touchy-feely school's library (although I miss that). My greater concern is actually a fear that we are, in fact, solving a short term problem at the expense of his long term potential.  Evidence like Alfie Kohn's books, Punished by Rewards, Unconditional Parenting and many others, hook me in and haunt me.  I am perpetually having to discern whether they resonate with me because of my own school experience or fit Reid's. I often feel trapped by his behaviors, with no choice but to use what is "proven" which is precisely what Kohn lambasts.  Is there room for his alternatives in the autism realm?

Remember Summer in the movie, School of Rock?  She is the over achiever, class do-gooder who needs to be in charge. She does not have autism, but she sure does like sticker charts, gold stars, and rewards.  After the shake up of Jack Black's arrival as a long-term substitute teacher, she begins to loosen up and find different reasons to achieve.  As he implements his highly unorthodox brainstorm to turn the class into a rock band, he assigns roles to each student. Since Summer is not particularly musical, Black makes her a groupie which will never do.  

Parenthetically, I made a similar mistake recently. Attempting to rally support and organize our posse of moms at one of the Kingsmen performances, I said, "we'll be groupies." Well, the aghast look on one of the moms faces made me quickly realize, that is not what I meant! "I mean roadies!" who carry all the stuff and get them to the venue on time.  I was using the terms synonymously, which they are not. What do I know about the music biz? Apparently zilch.

After hearing Summer's appeal, Jack Black concedes to naming her the road manager.  This scene marks the transition for her between performing for the extrinsic reward and internalizing a motivation to simply do her best.  I love it and wish it for Reid.

I was a bit like Summer.  With my maiden name of Andrea Anderson, I grew accustomed to always being first in the alphabetical roll call and taking my assigned seat in the front row. I achieved my assumed aspiration of straight A's after my name.  I learned by rote and met the teacher's expectations. You might say I learned "to the test," but sadly, I don't think I ever really worked to my full potential.  There is a limitation placed by limitations.  Maybe that's obvious. We think limitations in school settings are there to promote effective learning but in reality, they can lower the ceiling on what is accomplished.  Whether or not behavior is not an issue, why can't the sky be the limit?

I suppose I longed for a teacher like Jack Black who, although unqualified by the world's standards and on paper, breaks free from the establishment. With raw conviction, charisma, and creativity he woos students into self-discovery and accomplishment. I find it refreshing that he doesn't care about appearances one iota.  He has a good heart even if all the wrong words. What could he do with a Special Day Class or a fully included student?  I'd like to see a sequel, School of Rock II: SDC.

Now it may seem sacrilege to compare Jack Black to Jesus but I am seeing a parallel. (Remember all analogies are flawed.) Jesus came and did not look or act like the kind of king the Jews wanted or expected.  He was scruffy, undistinguished, and from Nazareth, of all places. Yet, He changed their lives from the inside out.  He changed the old law and told them He was the Way.  No longer did they need to keep all their laws to the letter.  Now, simple faith in Him would cut the mustard. Following Him with genuine heart and soul and mind was a radically new expectation.  They were used to ticking off their checklists of complex food rules, doing a sort of negative token economy of sacrificing animals to restore favor, and charting offenses of themselves and each other. Jesus told them to throw all that out; it doesn't matter.  I want your hearts not your perfect, little, pressured habits and sticker charts!

I can't quite fathom how, but I believe one day in heaven an Almighty God will demonstrate the perfect balance between unconditional love, motivational strategy and reward structure. In His Word, He does mention jewels in our crown.  Certainly, eternal salvation is the ultimate payoff for accepting Him on faith. I have always wanted the Bible to make a clear case for either behavior mod or unconditional parenting, but it doesn't. It gives examples of both. Maybe, God wants us to walk with Him in prayer and devotion so He can personally advise us on the particulars for any one child at any given chapter of life.  So, ultimately He is our reward; when we realize that His unconditional love and presence lead us through any fog.

However, as it is written: "No eye has seen, no ear has heard, no mind has conceived what God has prepared for those who love him"  1 Corinthians 2:8-10

Who has understood the mind of the LORD, or instructed him as his counselor?  Isaiah 40:12-14

But now, by dying to what once bound us, we have been released from the law so that we serve in the new way of the Spirit, and not in the old way of the written code. Romans 7:5-7


you, O Lord, are loving. Surely you will reward each person according to what he has done. Psalm 62:11-12


Love... keeps no record of wrongs.  1 Corinthians 13:4-6

photo credits:  www.easychild.com

Why Do You Walk? (or don't you)

Autism Speaks has been shrouded in controversy for awhile. Our San Diego Walk is next Saturday and although I part company with Autism Speaks on issues of style and some content, Reid and the Kingsmen do still sing at this local event. It is a great performance opportunity for them with a receptive audience of wonderful people on the same pilgrimage. The Walk Now for Autism is the single largest unifying event of families like ours, here and most likely, in your town too.

Our walk team this year is dubbed the "Kingsmen Roadies."  Our focus is supporting the band and displaying their talent, development, and potential to the autism community.  Who better to celebrate their accomplishment than those in the same boat who live the odds we've face to arrive at this point?  Who better to encourage, than families farther down the pike who need hope for their kids?  

No human being and no human organization is perfect. Not Autism Speaks, not TACA, not ASA, not the church. Although I still publicize and promote the walk as a chance to cheer Reid on, I always downplay the solicitation angle. Distrust and suspicion have made me wary. I give a small donation myself in solidarity for a compelling cause in my life...and in pursuit of balance. At the same time, I feel honor bound to recognize both sides of the story. This article by Cody Boisclair is one of the best I've read of many objections to the largest autism organization in the country. It was posted on the Autistic Self Advocacy Network website which does just what their name claims.  They provide a forum for articulate adults on the spectrum to voice their informed opinions.

Just as I cannot be a single issue voter, I think we ought not be single issue donors. They've made mistakes.  Autism Speaks has also done a tremendous job increasing public awareness and engaging the media.  So, I support with a caveat. Object while being involved. And hope to wield influence.

To me, tragedy doesn't sell, hope does!  We experienced some of both at the Team Captain kick-off meeting before the walk.  Reid and a fellow Kingsmen band member (who also loves the limelight) are always proud to do musical solos at the Crowne Plaza banquet hall where the rally is held.  For the last two years, their performances have been unintentionally ironic.  As if in spontaneous debate with the typically depressing Autism Speaks platform, their songs corrected the record.  

I don't know if it's this way in every city, but in San Diego, the agenda includes a plethora of announcements and an invited speaker whose job, I would think, is to demonstrate how funds will be put to good use.   Well, twice now I have felt the speakers were not only tearfully boring, but also inappropriately negative.  They portray autism in characteristic Autism Speaks' fashion as a tragedy and the children diagnosed with it as a burden.  This is a real problem for me, on many levels and especially when present company includes my son, who is a heritage from the Lord, a blessing and the joy of my life; thank you very much!

I am uncomfortable with the placards on each table that show a collage of testimonials in answer to the question, "Why do I walk?"  Each more pitiful than the next, they send the wrong message to the capable teens and adults with autism who are well able to read them as they wait their turn to go on stage or be featured in other ways.  As does the statistic-filled video they show that infers my child and others across the country are numbers or worse a crisis, rather than individuals created in God's image with a plan and a future as the Bible is clear to say about all children born into this world.  I'm "gettin' my preach on," as my favorite prophetess, Ginny Owens, says.  All I could think sitting there was, "how will I would correct these fallacies entering his eyes and ears with truth as soon as possible?" Not to mention, "Should I walk? Do I have to walk? Why am I here?"  

Oh, it gets worse. (You're going to think this is fiction.)  This year's scientific speaker was a doctorate director of a local brain tissue donation program.  She talked at length and in graphic visual detail, about how dead brains of children can be useful to science and asked us (not for money) but to consider donating our kid's brains after they die, of course!  This is true.  She even introduced a grieving woman who had done so, and had her stand up for applause at the front table.  What makes that a rallying point?  And who considers it in good taste?  I was not opening my wallet, let me tell you.  I continued to think, "How can I get out of here?  "Why don't they have a backstage area where I could wait out these offensive speeches with my son who is very much alive?!"  

Until, finally, it was the boys' cue. Reid bounded up on stage in his characteristic way belted out "Hey Jude" by the Beatles, taking a sad song and making it be..eh..eh..tter.  Then, Kenton in all his innocent, 10 year old glory walked up to the mic and sang Ray Charles' "I Don't Need No Doctor," with a few modified lyrics but the same punchy refrain. This is John Mayer singing it, but Kenton was better!

I hope it did not offend Dr. Jane Pickett, the director of the brain tissue donation program.  I hope it did wonders for her perogative on the living. 

Where I end up on all this is, I am attending the walk, promoting my son, and quoting truth to all who will listen.  The Bible talks about being "in but not of the world."  Is it possible to be in but not of Autism Speaks?

But God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise; God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong.  1 Corinthians 1:26-28

For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him.  John 3:16-18


Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God's will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will.  Romans 12:1-3 

photo credit:  farm4flikr.com

Bands of Light

Nerves ran high before the Kingsmen band performed at a local Borders last Tuesday. At least the parents were concerned and a bit self-conscious about letting our adolescent boys make this debut public appearance.

The boys belted out "Hang on Sloopy" and the youngest member of the band (9) graced us with a heartfelt solo of Ingrid Michaelson's poignant song "The Way I Am."

"Don't Worry about a Thing" chirped the Bob Marley lyrics as they called it a night. Reid said his obligatory thank you's to the cluster of teachers who came to support him, negotiated a DVD purchase with Dad and off we went to bed on a school night.

All's well that ends well. Practice makes perfect. Keep up the good work. Oh ye of little faith. Music in a universal language. The show must go on. You don't mind if I write in all cliches, do you?

How often have you been in a place where you could not see the future but needed to step into it anyway? The boys did this. The band leaders from The Music Therapy Center of California did it. We, moms, did it. As parents of kids with autism, we are pioneers whether we like it or not. I hadn't realized until afterwards what uncharted territory it is to have a special needs band performing in a neurotypical, public venue. It shouldn't matter and in many ways it didn't matter. At the same time, that is what made it meaningful.

Perhaps the most telling commentary were from the store manager afterwards. He said the 30 minute show was better than most of the in-store events they've had. What's more...he'd love to have the Kingsmen back on a regular basis! We'll have to see about that*@!*? (His son was not in the band; I promise.) Music has a universal appeal and so does hope. Could it be that hope is what he found appealing? Hope is compelling, even marketable to him, his clientele, and to the world.

My nephew has been to Berklee school of music and led bands from Boston to LA with his magnanimous personality and superior saxophone skill. He told Reid once that "Half of success is just showing up." Woody Allen thought it was 80%. True, practical, sage advice for any man. Much of what we need to know in life can be boiled down and made that simple...whether its the gospel, making a living, or pursuing a dream.

Flame is a band who just showed up and now they have a custom fire painted tour bus! The group began as a recreation program at Lexington Center in New York state. They were so well received by local audiences that they've now recorded two CD's and are moving from regional to national ambitions. Check out this promo tape and you'll wonder, is it Tracy Chapman or is it Michelle King? Reading the bios of Michelle and the other band members makes that old "Up, up with people" track run through my mind!



I don't do prophecy but I do enjoy forward thinking! Does anyone know of other bands like Flame and the Kingsmen? Please chime in if you do.


"By day you led them with a pillar of cloud, and by night with a pillar of fire to give them light on the way they were to take." Nehemiah 9:12


"We don't yet see things clearly. We're squinting in a fog, peering through a mist. But it won't be long before the weather clears and the sun shines bright! We'll see it all then, see it all as clearly as God sees us, knowing him directly just as he knows us!" 1 Corinthians 13:12-13 The Message

"...we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us." Romans 5:3