Daily Life

Culture Confusion.

Daily Life, Memoires, Musings, Stories, , Leave a comment

On our last day of school for the year we had an assembly, like we do every year. This year two grade five girls got a chance to show off their dance ability. It was marked on screen as Jazz Dance, but it was not jazz.

These two girls got up and did a dance very much inspired by K-Pop singers. My co-workers used the term twerking, but I don’t completely know what that means. There was discussion about how appropriate this was. And this brought back memories of conversations I have had in the past since moving to Asia.

My comment, which I voiced at the time: It’s their bodies & their fashion. He reluctantly agreed, but felt his voice should be heard.

Kindergarten Chaos.

Many years ago, I worked at a Kindergarten in Korea. for their year end event, the children performed a dance. It was a traditional dance. The boys were bare chested with sparkly vests and sparkly pants. The girls were wearing a skin-color shirt under a sparkly bra and sparkly shorts.

To my mind they looked like Las Vegas dancers in training. But I kept my mouth shut about it. Why? The parents had been involved with the costume selection, and dance routines. If the parents were happy to see their child in this outfit, in this context, then who was I to push my views on them.

Clothing.

Years later, a previous school I worked at held a charity bazaar. I love charity bazaars, or charity sales. The atmosphere is always very positive.

At this bazaar, a group of 4 of our middle school girls got up on stage and did a dance. It was a high energy, choreographed dance. (K-Pop inspired). A young teacher from California was sitting with me and he commented on the clothing the girls were wearing. Tight jeans, one I think had shorts, white t-shirts, and tank tops. He felt it was inappropriate for them to be dancing in such revealing clothes.

This year

I am not really a fan of K-Pop dancing. I have enjoyed some of the music, but don’t like the dance. Why? I get dizzy watching it. It takes a lot of training and energy to do, and I do not have the balance for this. When I see dancing, I imagine trying it in my head, and I feel like I will fall over. I don’t like this as it gives me a headache.

Not the reason most people expect.

I just cannot watch it. I do not judge the girls, or boys, who can dance this. I respect their ability and dedication. Is it twerking? I don’t know. I still don’t understand that term. Is it sexual? Some will think so. But I am then reminded of the movie Footloose (With Kevin Bacon). The town felt all dancing was sexual. I am not going to be the judge of what this generation feels is, or is not, sexual.

Any adult, who watches teenagers dance and feel strange things below, get help, please.

In my culture certain things are taboo. In Asian culture they are not. My wife enjoys watching this style of dancing. She used to dance it, as did her sisters, and her brother. My youngest daughter (Grade 1) will lock herself in her room to dance to videos. It’s great exercise.

Empowerment.

I was reading about, and watching videos about culture lately. One thing brought up was specifically, Japanese Girls fashion. And then I found similar notes about dance in Korea.

It is seen as a way to promote female empowerment. Girls here dress and dance in ways that would be considered extremely taboo in North America. They do these things to push against the old traditions of how Men got to dictate what they wore or how they moved. They do this to push against the quiet, modest stereotype of the older generations.
These girls, and women rightfully feel that they should be able to express themselves without people telling them what to wear or do. They are not hurting anyone. They are not asking for men to treat them or react to them in any special way. Quite the opposite, they are telling men to stop treating them or reacting to them in a certain way.

My final view, has gotten me in trouble in the past: If you cannot stop pushing your cultural values on the people here, maybe you shouldn’t be here.

North America is not the pinnacle of world culture. We love to think we are, but we are not. What is appropriate in Canada, or the USA, might not be alright here in Asia. And Vice Versa.

Where I do draw the line…

I do have a line though. It involves more comprehension, and it involves my autistic mind.

I love music. And when I listen to music, I cannot help but focus on the lyrics. I understand many people do not do this. I also understand that when people here listen to western songs, they often do not know what the lyrics mean. However, It irks me to see children singing or dancing along to songs about violence, sexual assault, cheating, or other immoral activities. I have been known to tell the adults in the child’s life what the song is about, r just to let the child know that the song has a bad meaning, without going into details. This extends to any media.

I have had enough children over my years in Asia try to copy the language used in an action movie or a rap song to practice from. these well meaning children use swear words and slang that they don’t understand, which makes me clinch.

I had a group of students 20 years ago who spoke mostly in quotes they heard from a counter-strike game. It was frustrating explaining to them that “Game over” did not mean they get to try again. Or that “taking someone out” was not an appropriate term to use while playing with someone in the playground.

Or a friend of mine who was trying to get over her boyfriend who cheated on her by listening to Shaggy’s “It Wasn’t Me” over and over again… That was an awkward conversation.

This is when I get irked. Not by fashion, or dance, neither of which I fully comprehend. And so I try my best to understand the music I listen to. I will often ask my friends and coworkers about the meaning of songs.

Celebration, Overwhelm – and a smirk.

Autism, Daily Life, Family, , , , Leave a comment

Last week was a lot, and this week has continued. Like many Autistics with HSP, I put others first. I am terrible at knowing my limits, and holding my boundaries.

Awareness

2 weeks ago, a teacher at my school shared with me the research his gifted students had been doing. It was all on an online platform. They had been researching autism, and were preparing a presentation about it. so I went on this platform and I wrote down some notes for the students. Just some observations based upon their writing. Some suggestions for terminology. things like this.

Many of the students were in my class over the last few years. So I was sure they would know who I was making the notes.

Last Wednesday was the day for their presentations.

I love that they had done the research. I love that they had visited a school for stage 3 autists in Beijing. and that they had observed with their own eyes. None of them interacted with the students at that school, but it was a step.

Due to time constraints, they had all 4 presentations at the same time. they put up 4 tables, not far from each other in our Highschool Library. I wanted to support them so much. But I couldn’t hear well. four different speeches at the same time. with videos and observable media.

At one point, I sat next to one computer and closed my eyes, to hear the video over the talking. It was near impossible.

In the end, I was at one group while the others packed up. This group was explaining to me, and our head of school. When they finished, the head of school asked them about meeting autistic people. I am standing beside him, my lanyard strap covered with pins that all say “Autistic”, “I am Autistic”, “Neurodivergent” etc. The students pointed to me.

He looked at me and asked if I had connection to Autism. I have worked closely with this man for 4 years, and I had to tell him that I was autistic. I had come out in front of the entire school earlier this year, but he was absent. He had a lot of questions, and that attention made me feel awkward.

Celebration

The very next day was my son’s Graduation. I was excited, and anxious, and so many different things. I love my Son. I am proud of my son, and all he has accomplished.

I forget, that my school never does anything small. The kids deserve an amazing celebration. And I guess Allistic people like disco lights and loud music, and red carpets. I could watch center stage, or I could watch the live broadcast (While inside the celebration). But If I tried to look anywhere but the exact center stage, I was blinded by a disco-laser-spotlight thing.

My son and his band performed some songs, amazingly. I couldn’t watch it. They were on a side stage. I recorded it, but if i looked up, I would get a laser in my face.

I love that the children had a big red carpet like moment. Their Big day. But after the family lunch, I had to go home and get away. It was too much. I actually shivered while sitting on the couch by myself for 2 hours.

Family time.

I made the mistake of taking my family to the Mall over this past long weekend. My youngest loves the mall. But long weekends are too busy. My oldest children escaped after lunch. They took a car home. It was too loud and too many people for them. I stayed with my wife and youngest. She had a great time.

I love spending time with my family. I always feel terrible if I need time to regulate, or recover from over stimulation.

These are the times I struggle the most. I want to show my family I love them. I want to do amazing things with them. I want to get out and make memories. I just cannot do it with too much noise, lights, or people.

And it compounds.

If any one of these things had happened in a week, I would be fine. But all three of them within only a day or so apart, it makes things so much harder. I had to spend Monday curled on the sofa for the most part.

Smirk.

I have been trying to use as much time as I can during my break times to relax and regulate. It is End of Year, and there is a lot of paperwork that needs to be filled out, including self-reflections. I have been staying afloat, barely.

Today was a very difficult day, but it ended with something that made me smile.

My friend, who works with the gifted students, came up to me. One of the girls in his class was a student of mine. She published a tiny book about moving to a new place, and it convinced me to publish my own book. Well she came up to him and had questions about why I was giving so much feedback on her writing. And he let her know that I was autistic, and he told me he could see her coming to realization. He could see her piecing our year in grade 3 back together with this new information. He said she was surprised, but happy to know.

It made me smile.

And then I came home and passed out on the sofa for 2 hours.

What can I do?

Autism, Daily Life, School, , , Leave a comment

I can’t think.

Sometimes things become bigger than they should. I get into a spot where I am trying to process what is happening. I am trying to make sure I am making the right decisions for everyone, but I can’t think fast enough. Thing move faster than I can process.

Often at the end of the day, I am exhausted. After I drop the children off at the gate, I need time to reflect, or process. I know I have to write a notice home to parents. sometimes it is for the whole group. Sometimes is is individual parents, to praise or inform of difficulties their child has had. If it has been a difficult day, I cannot do this immediately. I need time to process. What did I do right, or wrong? What can I do better next time? Could I have done better? How? What do I need to do to help these kids?

One of the things I have to unlearn is that it is not always my fault. Growing up, All miscommunications where blamed on me. I was not clear enough. I didn’t say things fast enough. I wasn’t assertive enough. I was too blunt. My tone of voice was wrong. My face was wrong when I was talking.

Often, I have moments in the middle of the day, where what I planned is not working. I have to switch gears and try plan B to explain things. Then Plan C. When Plan H has failed, I am left lost. Sometimes well meaning people come up and ask me what they can do to help.

I am left at a loss usually when this happens. I cannot begin to think about how they can help. I am at a loss. I am still processing what went wrong in the first place. My prepared response is always. “I don’t know right now. Can I get back to you?”

If I get 2 or 3 people asking me back to back, like today. I just… I don’t know. I can’t even think yet..

I know then mean well. At least one does. I may have misread the other’s face. To me their face was saying “Why can’t you do this on your own?” Again, I may be misreading.

I have now taken an hour. let me start again.

Too many things.

When communication isn’t clear, I don’t just feel confused—I start blaming myself. Doubting myself. Spinning. Many autistic people prefer written communication—and I can see why. Emails can be great, because people take time to think about what they are writing. They look back over an email and edit for clarity. Instant Messaging can be terrifying and I still dislike it.

People text brief messages that are often misunderstood, and there is no review before sending them. Last night after work, I got a string of messages from my administrators. No context. No details. Just enough to make me feel like I’d done something horribly wrong.

I spent the whole night replaying the day—trying to figure out where I’d overstepped. I knew what I’d done, but not why it might be a problem.

In the morning, more messages: “Let’s meet.” No explanation.

I asked for clarification. Nothing.

You know how deer freeze in the headlights of an oncoming car? They aren’t being reckless—they’re overwhelmed. Their brains stall, trying to process what’s coming at them. That’s how I felt. Stuck. Not knowing what to think, say, or do.

The meeting was more positive than I had anticipated. But up to that point I was terrified. The team asked how they could help—but the truth is, as I’m still processing, I have no idea what I need. That is something that needs to be planned. If you show up and ask me what I need help with in that moment, I’ll freeze up.

I have students who freeze up like I do, and I’m not always perfect at giving them the time they need. I also have students who try to take advantage of that lag, which helps no one. I want to give them the space I sometimes don’t know how to ask for myself. But like me, they don’t always know what they need in the moment. And like me, they’re still learning. We’re not being difficult—we’re just trying to keep up with a game that moves faster than we can think.