Dying/broken/forgiven.... now I begin

Born: 17-06-56....gemini.... monkey
re-born: 3-09-80
born again\found: 14-04-08
other notable dates: 10-03-68; 03-09-87; 23-03-96;
1-05-98; 31-01-02; 5-04-04

Interests: movement, stressed/transgressive embodiment, lived experience (body\space\time\relation)
expression ( word, dance, text, image, story, music, poetics)
learning, yielding......

Hopes for the blog:
offer up the wild intersectedness of lived experience and engage others in creative, expressive, perhaps irreverant, hopefully playful, and respectful encounters....
enact kindness
create moments of pause for disclosure, discovery, stillness

Tuesday, August 31, 2010

Autism camp, 2010: day two

When I began this camp back in 1996, the campers of that summer decided on the names of their groups. Four groups, divided roughly by age, anointed themselves Wild Dogs, HellCats, Savage Beasts, and Bloodthirsty Cannibals. I've worked with kids for lots of years and am always delighted at the names they come up with when they are given the liberty to do so. In another life as a gymnastics coach, I remember my youngest, sweetest, daintiest little girls naming themselves Vandals and Cockroaches and so forth. But I digress. I've kept the names over the years and this summer's kids seem to relish them as much as the original kids ( some of whom are still attending!). This summer, the Wild Dogs are my youngest, ages 3-6; the Hellcats are next, ages 7-10/11; the Savage Beasts are next, ages 11-14/15; and the Bloodthirsty Cannibals are the oldest, ages 15 - 26. The original Cannibals had a typically warped- and accurate-Aspergers' sense of humour, and chose the name because of how many biters were in the group.

Today's anecdote comes out of the Hellcats. Two little fellas decided to turn the tables on the wasps who have been ferocious and plentiful this summer and set about to capture one. They proceeded to torture it and then, tiring of toying with it, squashed it under foot and then got down for a closer inspection of its little corpse. Fascinated with how the squishy organs were strewn about, they suddenly announced: its body is dead but its brain is alive. And insisted that anyone passing by drop down to take a CLOSER look at the vibrating brain.... at least they think it's the brain. No matter; these little dudes are developing their necrophiliac tendencies while one of my older gals, a 20 year old who is EXTREMELY tactile aggressive ( read: craves intense sensations) swallowed a wasp. Live. For a gal who takes her time with everything else, she has amazing reflexes where her tactile needs are concerned. And it could be, she takes her responsibilities to her group name seriously.

Hopefully, the wasps have a decent communication system. I 'm betting on my kids.



  1. Somehow, this morning, reading this just after the Walking Man's blog makes me smile with hope for the future.

  2. Punch--I am so glad to have offered you this rare opportunity for optimism; thanks for the visit and the comment.