Aspies For Freedom

The people who run schools want them to run smoothly. Anyone who doesn't fit is tossed in the wastebasket.

OHMYGOSH!!! I HELD THE PENCIL THE WRONG WAY TOO!! AND STILL DO!! *high five*

Why would they care how you hold the pencil as long as you can write well?

*grins* Me too! Were you ever given those triangular rubber "grip" attachments that forced you to hold a pencil the right way? *shudders*  

you sure use the word "retard" a lot....not very nice.

So, story begins with me before school. Only people I knew were my parents and my grandma. I must have met some cousins, but I didn't interact with them regularly.

Then, I suddenly meet kids in Kindergarten. My mom said that I did stuff like grabbing them and taking off their clothes. I was also raised with dolls, so that could be a possibility as to why I did that. People told me to stop, but I didn't get it. I DIDN'T communicate with people other than my parents prior to school.

So, I was quickly thrown from school to school from retard class to retard class. The first half of Kindergarten was at a catholic school. When religion class popped around, I always avoided it by going to the play corner instead. I never showed an interest in religion then. I remember I was once falsely accused of pouring apple juice into something in the play corner, but they didn't listen to me. Another kindergarten episode had some boys taking other kids' art and ripping it up. I yelled at them to stop. I'm not sure what happened.

The second half of Kindergarten threw me into a public elementary school, in a class for retarded kids. I also spent first and second grade there. I don't remember anything interesting that happened, though, other than I never liked my last name Bucko because people would call me "Butt-hole". So I made up a last name for myself: Logowalk. I abandoned it because adults didn't like the idea.

I was sent to a woman named Mrs. Turner for "speech", like I was incapable of speaking the English language. She would show me these pictures of animals and ask me what they were. I wish my current self was around to make sarcastic remarks then. If she had showed my current self a picture of a cat and told me what it was, I'd probably say, "No, it's an octopus."

In third grade, the school district sent me to a different school, known as Vance Village. This one was a rather stupid one with a stupid system that "simulated" adult life, which was why it was called "Village". Their stupid currency was called fins. My job was crafting, but the "employer" was a bitch and wouldn't pay me any money. I was once accused of running outside and went to a fake, jury-less trial, and had to pay a fine with the fins I didn't have. The first half of third grade took place in a retard class that send us each holiday to a senior home to entertain the old people. Ever since I first met my great grandmother, drooling pathetically in her wheelchair, senior homes depressed me. If I ever live to be 60, I'll avoid them as much as possible.

Then here's the big change. My mom had to fight with the entire school district to put me in an adequate class, because THEY WEREN'T TEACHING ME ANYTHING. How did I get a proper education before this? My mom would give me books for me to learn from. I used them faithfully. I also had encyclopaedias, so I was more knowledgeable in science than anyone else in my class, not meaning to brag. I'm pretty sure I was also one of the first to be enlightened to the way humans reproduced.

So I got moved to the class next door in April, which WASN'T for retards. I was treated like one, though. I still can't look at one of my friends without remembering how she would act like a really bossy, naggy teacher to me when I was in third grade. I could read and do math pretty well in the class, but I didn't get into the habit of doing morning work until fourth grade. My writings were pretty inadequate. I wrote tiny paragraphs and they were largely irrelevant to the topic. The retard third grade class was just beginning to learn to read and write sentences, while I had gotten past that already, being NOT a retard. I remember that their teacher had left in May or June, replaced by another teacher. They finally started doing multiplication. That class was a third/fourth grade mix.

By the fourth grade, I had been moved into a different school. And let's say that I was glad I was moved. Even in third grade, I thought that Vance and its system was stupid. Well, I finally got into a real class at last. Luckily, my outputted skills had developed rapidly. FINALLY, we got into real writing, so my writing stopped being retarded. I was in the highest math class, but I couldn't do addition like 8 + 3 at rapid speeds unlike others. (I had to figure this stuff out on my own with books, you have to remember that) Because I hated waiting for my brain to actually REASON its way to the answer instead of simply knowing it, I kept asking people. So I was kicked down to the lowest math class like I was dirt. I'm still not as fast at math as others today. 8 + (<10) still gets to me today.

Fifth grade was largely the same. Woohoo. Only interesting thing to note here is that this was the year I began to show interest in drawing. And this was because I found an art superstyle that interested me: anime. So I studied it and began my lifetime of art. No, you don't just start being good and keep being good, as it seems to occur to most non-art people. You start out bad and work your way up to good. The problem is, most people don't have or lose the motivation to work their way up, so they stay bad. Unfortunately, teachers and the aide were not impressed by my desire to develop talent in drawing and did not help motivate me. Instead they yelled at me to stop drawing pictures, even took a few and threw them away. I hate teachers like this. Really, I do. To come between an aspiring artist and his aspiration is a sin.

In fourth and fifth grade, I tried to fit myself into groups of friends. A certain group of girly girls acted nice to me, but they did things like form friendship clubs and shared secrets with each other. I was never included. So I decided, if you can't join them, beat them. I tried to start my own friendship club, but I never gained any members other than myself. I made one friend named Jelitza, but she moved. I don't know what's happening with her now. Maybe she became like my second grade best friend, moved in with the bitch crowd.

In sixth grade, I moved to Pulaski middle school. At least this move made sense, because I was graduating from elementary to middle school. There really is nothing special to say about sixth grade. I made a few nice friends. They're still nice to this day, though cross-cluster and cross-school separations stopped us from hanging with each other. I remember once having IEP papers dumped on my desk. I didn't know what they were so I didn't give them a second thought. In this grade the teachers were nicer and only the aide (yes, same aide) gave a shit about me drawing. In that year, I had my homeroom moved to a retard class in the cluster, and to this day I still have no idea why, because I thought I had that shit settled.

Seventh grade was the grade where everything got crazy, and my real personality exploded into existence. That year was horrid. Suddenly everybody stopped being nice, pleasant people and became rude, slang-speaking trash. Friends were scarce and hard to trust. (At least I was no longer in a retard homeroom) I remember when the aide caught me drawing in my drawing notebook and stole it from me. Some asshole kid took it before I could get it back. After that class, I found my artwork destroyed, scattered in shreds all over the hallway. You couldn't believe how angry I was. A security guard took the remains as evidence and never gave it back. If the aide hadn't taken my book, this would never would have happened, and I would still have it to look back at and see how much I had improved.

Near the end of the year, Gothic people made their appearance (as sarcastic and slightly sadistic phrases on the front of an antisocial girl's shirt) and I was introduced to the culture. I never made friends with the Goth crowd because I wasn't sure how to approach such people properly. About half of you already know how this was how I gained a crush on some fat Polish guy. All that crazy stuff aside, moving on to the eighth grade.

It's nice to know that the "Bored" of Education finally stopped thinking of me as a mindless retard. They must have AT LAST figured out that I'm an intelligent person because I became one of the most gifted students in the district. I moved to a school for gifted students, and retard classes were no more! (I still had the aide though.) 8th grade was the best school year I had so far. I had accumulated many friends and few enemies. My teachers loved my art, and I think my aide started to get a little lighter on the whole drawing in class thing. Trashy people were few and far between, so I didn't have to worry about curly haired, hoop-eared sluts shouting "YO" through my head at someone else. Since I had turned 14, I finally had an IEP meeting and I was invited. (about time) I had my retard IEP switched to a 504 plan, so now I was mostly regarded as normal student. Oh yeah. I got over Wojciech. Now, how shall I write Local Reality now that those two guys are stuck in it forever?

Now, I am currently in 9th grade, and I think they forgot the whole not a retard thing. Despite the fact I was in all Honours classes, I got put into a class for people who didn't have the intelligence to read properly, which confused me greatly. Luckily, I got myself moved out and into Spanish instead.

In short, the Bored of Education is run by retards.

No offence to people who are actually mentally retarded, 'k? It was the way they treated me. It was the whole situation.

My thoughts exactly.  You are the epitomy of offensive and you need to come off your high horse.  Using that word hurts people and needs to be done away with.

And yes, I agree on the issue of derogatory language.  the main point of the post stands as being well spoken.

I believe in full mainstreaming, with assistance from trained professional teachers as Aides.  Hire one-on-one Aides and get these guys in to classes that will challenge them---in a way that builds their confidence.  Dismantle Special Ed. for all but those truly needing it.

My opinion.  There would actually be MORE jobs fro Special Ed. teachers who are qualified, not less.  They will be working with mainstream teachers.  More would be necessary to implement this task, but it could work.  

All the best.