Showing posts from January, 2019

Hope & Apraxia

Hope. Is it a naive cliché to help us sleep better at night?  Or is it actually helpful?  Is hope powerful enough to overcome our obsession with the technical; our obsession with science, facts, studies, and research?  Can hope exist in a society obsessed with specifics? We cling to hope when we need or feel like it, yet we label it a cliché in the face of despair and hopelessness.  In the Apraxia Community, we know these hopeless moments as the 'Kitchen Floor Moments.'  When you're crying on the floor, in fear of the future and your child. In these moments, the last thing we can swallow is hope.  Yet, this is when we need it most.  We cling to hope when we have our waves of optimism, yet in our waves of depression, hope taunts us, we detest it, and we push it away.  How can we be hopeful for a child or ourselves when everyone says to be hopeless? When there's actual, physical evidence proving we have a right to be hopeless.  Ho

The Unforeseen Variable

In evaluating a child's potential for success, we take into account certain variables. We measure, test, and evaluate these variables to 'predict' how they'll grow up and sometimes even what they'll grow up to be.  We account for their ability to behave in a classroom, their ability to read, spell, do basic math calculations, history, science, etc.  We even give each variable a grade- A's are excellent, F's are failing, 5's are excellent, 1's are poor. With these graded and perfectly-measured variables, we characterize an entire human being within the confines of a few sheets of paper.  Papers from IEP's, Progress Reports, Report Cards, and even Doctor's Reports- we somehow measure a person's potential future and success before they're even 10 years old! Look, I get it. These reports are drowning, consuming, and overwhelming. These reports dictate services, how your child is growing, and how they're improving or