As in, school closures and budget cuts to programs for autistic children.

In Brooklyn, a nationally recognized program for speech and language delayed children, The Little Room, will either be moved from its location in the Brooklyn Heights Montessori School or closed, according to the December 13th New York Times. The Little Room, which has been in operation since 1970, is “one of the most popular and best regarded [preschools for special education students], not just for those enrolled but for dozens of other families who receive evaluations and support services at the school.” Among the factors being cited as reasons for moving or closing The Little Room are the costs incurred from maintaining a small class size (The Little Room’s classes are capped at nine students) and the teacher’s salaries, which are comparable to those of the other teachers at Brooklyn Heights Montessori School.

In South Carolina, budgetary concerns are threatening a program to provide early autism treatment, as noted by yesterday’s Greenville Online:

State Sen. David Thomas said the state Department of Disabilities and Special Needs [DDSN] appears to be “raiding” special programs funded with specific appropriations to protect the core agency from mandated budget cuts, a move he said is a “form of theft” that raises “serious legality questions.”

DDSN officials state otherwise; Thomas says a new audit shows that $9 million of $10.5 million appropriated for the autism program has gone unused or been diverted by DDSN.

A school closing and funding for services promised and then disappearing: We’ve been through both of these experiences, and I’d think that many families have, and that we’ll be hearing more stories. What if your child’s in a public school program with a 1:1 student to teacher ratio and there’s a hiring freeze, and then more people keep moving into the school district because of its reputation for special education?

School boards and state officials need to hear that autistic children need these programs and services, and that there needs to be transparency about how decisions are made, and how funds are allocated. Parents  put in huge efforts to get these programs in place, and our kids make even huger efforts to learn and do what’s asked of them: Closures and cuts shouldn’t just be made without keeping those who they’re going to affect aware and informed, and not in the dark.

Yes, our family (as in all three of us) attended two parties this weekend.

On Saturday afternoon we drove into Queens via the Goethals Bridge, the Verranzano Bridge (Charlie sat up to get the full view of being close to the ocean), and Brooklyn (after going through Sunset Park and seeing too many interesting looking Chinese and Asian restaurants, and then East New York). One of Jim’s friends’ two sisters (count the s’s and the apostrophes in that) were both celebrating their birthday somewhere off of Fresh Pond Road. Charlie put his hands over his ears at the music and the party noise; a woman who works with autistic children at a school out on Long Island came and sat with him and talked; Charlie looked relaxed. He sat and ate while Jim and I socialized. Driving back to Jersey we got this view of Manhattan as we crossed the Brooklyn Bridge.

Sunday we were invited to bike on a trail to celebrate the birthday of a boy a year older than Charlie. “Ride bikes with friends,” Charlie said in the car as we drove with me glancing in the rear view mirror at the bikes on the bike rack. We drove past where we were to meet everyone and had to retrace our route. Soon as we found the party, Charlie could hardly wait to jump on his bike and—first and in the lead—he was off, Jim right behind.

There was lunch and Babycakes cupcakes (Charlie got to have 2), water balloons and happy cheer. We talked about schools and programs with other parents and a teacher, and watched our kids be themselves in their different ways.

Biking in circles and circles round the gazebo.

Sitting to eat facing the other way.

Running to put on a blue fleece sweatshirt on an 80 degree day (hood too).

We drove away dusty and glad for the AC in the black car, and the bikes tied on securely for the ride home.

Brooklyn is to Manhattan as California’s East Bay (Oakland, Berkeley) is to San Francisco: Today’s New York Times draws these comparisons:

….there is a young, earnest population that is beating a path between artsy, gentrifying neighborhoods in Brooklyn and their counterparts in the Bay Area, especially East Oakland and the area south of Market Street in San Francisco, or SoMa.

The New York Times describes some 20- and 30- something year olds who, in search of a place with a “messy urbanism”—-a urban, creative vibe of the sort found in edgier city neighborhoods before gentrification sets in—-shuttle between the East and West—the Left—coasts. Maybe this transcontinental connection is now found among “creative people” in search of “alternative art and music scenes” and “a tolerance for diversity,” but mention of the East and West coasts means something more particular to me.

We live, as oft noted here, in what is called north-central New Jersey and frequently cross the Hudson in to New York City. I’m from California and, too, northern California, and Oakland and Berkeley are where I grew up, via Oakland’s Chinatown (just past the shores of Lake Merritt) and Telegraph and Shattuck Avenues in the university town where you’ll still find People’s Park. My husband Jim is from Jersey and the state has been the best place for Charlie to go to school; we left two jobs, financial security, and a lot more when we drove away from the Midwest in 2001 and moved back here. The three of us all like to be near New York, the site of many adventures, and can hardly wait to get back into the Atlantic Ocean down the shore—and we sure like the good education Charlie has had here in Jersey.

While liking the Garden State much—it is a garden spot for us—my mind’s always directed westward to the Golden State I grew up in. I have a large extended family, most of whom lives in northern California; my cousins have children who are just a bit older than Charlie. Jim and I have often talked about possibly moving out west when Charlie is an adult, as there will be many members of my family to support and help him, and include him in the life of the family. Going back and forth between the East and West coasts is a lifestyle choice, one might say: Charlie will most likely end up living in one place or the other, and it’s more than important that he feel at home in both places. With Charlie’s school schedule, we have usually only been going out to California once a year at Christmastime. I’m hoping that we can visit briefly in the summer, to see my numerous relatives (and my 102 year old grandmother, Ngin-Ngin, in particular), to familiarize Charlie with California so that he’s a bicoastal boy, at home in two places, because we just don’t know.

(One thing I do know is that I think the New York Times’s equation of Brooklyn with the East Bay is not entirely accurate: Better to compare the East Bay—-Bezerkley and Oakland where “there is no there there” with New Jersey, a place where you’ll find the Meadowlands, a certain “messy urbanism,” and more than a bit of autism education going on.)