7 Airport Suggestions

On 19 Mar, I attended a caregivers' forum organised by Changi Airport Group wishing to find out how the new Terminal 5 can cater to families with special needs. Personally, I went with two main suggestions in mind:

1. Handicap toilets must not be inside the Gents or Ladies, so that mothers can help their grown special-needs sons with toileting.

2. Allow special-needs persons to clear customs not individually but with their caregiver. This is because even as adults, autistic persons may feel lost, not understanding what is required of them and not being able to answer questions posed by the customs officer. This is even more difficult for restless children who may dash off once released from their caregivers' hand.

But if it's not possible to clear customs with the caregiver, then I'd suggest:

3. Indicating the special needs on the passport or on the boarding pass. With autistic persons looking very much like their neurotypical peers (except when they exhibit repetitive motions), I'm concerned that lack of understanding may be interpreted as refusal to cooperate, getting autistic persons like Calder into trouble with the airport police. And this trouble would only escalate if the police suspect foul play and by stern or harshly issued instructions, make the autistic person anxious or edgy.

An indication of special needs is only as useful as the amount of knowledge people have of such needs. Hence I think it is important that

4. Airport staff be trained on symptoms and limitations of various special needs, especially the "invisible" needs like intellectual disability, so that they can respond appropriately in urgent situations like when an autistic child melts down. In the case of autism, staff would learn, through training, important tips like using a calm voice in communication, steering the family to a quiet place or allowing them to go first (in queues) to minimise the child's distress in waiting.

5. Ideally, there would be a priority queue for families with special needs. This would facilitate clearance of customs together with the caregiver (so the general public wouldn't question the exception) and also minimise unhappiness of the general public should the special-needs person cause delay of queue.

I never knew until this forum, that there is such a place called the special-needs lounge in Changi Airport. Apparently, when we book air tickets, we can indicate to the airline our need to use this quiet place. Then a staff may usher us there to wait for the plane. Ease of use however depends on the airline, so it'd be good if

6. Accessibility to this special-needs lounge can be controlled by the airport rather than by individual airlines - perhaps showing the DDR card for the family to gain entry.  Also, that this lounge not be just a quiet place with soft seats; it can contain books and sensory toys to occupy children with special needs. There can even be a soundproof, dimly-lighted room in this lounge where autistic children can enter individually and sit on a bouncy ball  to calm down when they have a meltdown.

7. If there are provisions for people with special needs, these need to be clearly stated on the website for easy access. Perhaps this special-needs page on the airport's website can also include a downloadable picture procedure video or slideshow to prepare special-needs persons on what to expect at the airport.

Miracles

An autism sharing - my parenting journey - at Bethany Emmanuel Church on 1 Apr 2018 (English translation below):

我有一个儿子，甘泉，今年十三岁。他有自闭症，所以不懂得沟通，就算是yes or no 的简单问题也答得不清不楚。他就像外星人，不会讲我们的言语，也不明白我们讲的话，甚至不明白我们在做什么，就这样时常处在一种很没有安全感的状态，很容易情绪失控。

成为他的妈妈之后，我终于明白什么叫 Surrender - 束手无策，只能投降。当他伤心流泪时，却又说不出原因，我只能为他祷告。我说： 上帝啊，只有你明白，能安慰他，帮助他，我就把儿子交给你了。当他在外面大闹，有时又哭又踢又想逃跑时，我好像走进了恶梦，根本无法控制局面，我只能向上帝呼喊：Help!

有一回，我带两个孩子到 Changi 机场的室内游乐场玩耍。从我家搭巴士到 Changi 机场要一小时。去的时候还蛮开心，不料我儿子在回来的路程情绪失控。可能是用餐前肚子饿过头，或是因为地下巴士站太吵。他开始是又捏又扭我的手臂，然后用指甲抓我。然后在巴士上尖叫，甚至企图攀爬前面的椅子! 我给他包包抱，他将包包往后扔，还好乘客把包包传回来。我让他听他通常会喜欢的音乐，他把耳机大力地拔出来。我温和地数到十，希望他能稳定下来，可数到了十他好像又要发作了。怎么办？可怜的妹妹一个人坐远远的，我也照顾不了。我只能祷告。

嗨，这么漫长的旅途，我们几时才到家？我开始唱诗歌，边唱边拍儿子的手臂，然后拍他的胸。就这样，慢慢的，儿子终于缓和下来。这时，有一个乘客下车前，很善良又很诚恳地对我说: 你是伟大的妈妈。我听了， 紧绷的肩膀立即松懈下来，眼泪也开始一颗一颗地往下流。上帝啊，原来你一直都与我同在，眷顾着我。你确实是我的避难所，我随时的帮助。就这样，上帝给我勇气和力量度过一次又一次的难关。

上帝通过他的话语给我很大的安慰: 

In this world you will have trouble "...在世上你们有苦难"

啊，上帝，我经历的你都看到，也都明白。

约翰福音 16: 33 继续说：

But take heart
但你们可以放心

I have overcome the world
我已经胜了世界。”

上帝也给我写作的爱好和能力，让这些经历和当中所学习的功课能够成为别人的安慰和帮助。我出版了<进入我的世界> (www.come-into-my-world.com), 当中收集了新加坡31个自闭症故事。我也开始到处分享我的经验，希望能让更多人明白什么是自闭症。

感谢主，在这时期，我看到儿子逐渐的进步。他讲多一点话，也比较明白我们跟他讲的。他的情绪也渐渐的缓和下来，不再容易发脾气。我看到他的可爱 - 小小的东西能让他那么灿烂地笑起来。他学会看书，写字，弹钢琴。虽然他还是不会回答问题，很多事上都要有人监督，毕竟他不再是我家的龙卷风，反而变成了我们家安静的开心果。

我不知道为什么上帝要让我有一个自闭症的儿子，但我相信他是爱我的主，他给的礼物没有一样是不好的。他也是无所不能的救主，我必要在甘泉和我的生命中看到一次又一次的奇迹。愿荣耀归于这位用舍己的爱保护我们，并爱我们到底的主。

I have a son, Calder, who is 13 this year. He is autistic, hence could not communicate well. Even simple "yes" or "no" questions would not yield clear answers from him. He's like an alien from outer space - he couldn't speak our language and didn't understand what we said; he didn't even seem to understand what we were doing. Hence he was often in a state of insecurity and would very easily melt down.

After becoming his mother, I finally understood what "surrender" means. When he cried sadly yet could not tell us why, I could only pray. I said: "Lord, only you understand him and can comfort him; I entrust my son to you." When he melted down outside the home, crying and kicking and wanting to run away, I could only cry out to God - Help!

Once, I brought the two children to an indoor playground in Changi Airport. It took us one hour to take bus from our home to Changi Airport. Calder was rather happy when we made our way there. Unfortunately, he melted down on the way back. It could be that he was too hungry before we had our dinner. It could also be due to the noisy underground bus stop. He started by poking and twisting my arm. Then he tried to scratch me. On the bus, he screamed and actually attempted scaling the seat in front! I gave him his haversack to hug, but he flung it behind. Fortunately the passengers passed the haversack back to us. I tried letting him listen to his favourite music, but he yanked out the earphones. I gently counted to ten, hoping it would calm him down, but when I reached "ten", he started getting agitated again. What do I do now? His poor sister was sitting alone far from us and I couldn't at all tend to her. I could only pray.

It's such a long journey - when would we reach home? I started singing hymns, singing and tapping Calder on the arm, then on his chest. Gradually, he calmed down. At this point, a passenger, before alighting, came to me. Kindly and sincerely, she uttered: You are a great Mom. When I heard that, my tense shoulders immediately relaxed. And tears started flowing and flowing from my eyes. Oh Lord, so you have always been with me and watching over me. Indeed you are my refuge and my ever-present help. In such ways, the Lord gave me courage and strength to overcome one difficulty after another.

The Lord gave me great assurance through his word. He said: "In this world you will have trouble..." When I read that in John 16: 33, I was so moved. Oh Lord, what I'm going through - you know, and you understand. The Bible verse continued: "But take heart! I have overcome the world."

The Lord also gave me the passion and skill in writing, so that my experiences and what I learned from them could be used to comfort and help others. I published "Come into My World: 31 Stories of Autism in Singapore" (www.come-into-my-world.com) and started going around sharing my experience parenting Calder, hoping  to enable more people to understand what autism is.

During this period, I saw my son's gradual improvement (Thank God!). He could speak more and understand better what we said to him. He also mellowed down and no longer flared up readily. I discovered his adorable nature - how the smallest thing could spark his brightest smile. He learned to read, to write and to play the piano. Although he still cannot answer questions, and requires supervision in many matters, at least he's no longer the hurricane in my house. In fact, he has become the quiet but happy treasure in my home.

I do not know why God gave me an autistic son. But I believe God loves me and would never give me a present that is not good. Nothing is impossible for God. I believe therefore that I would see miracles, one after another, in Calder's and my life. May all glory go to this God who protects us with his very life, who loves us to the very end.

Eyes

Yesterday, I brought Calder along for vocal training in preparation for an upcoming Easter performance. Usually I would ask him to select a heavy chair among those stacked up. This is to discourage him from rocking the chair on which he sits.

The training lasts two hours. I have tried occupying him by letting him play games on my handphone (word search, bowling) but he's so reliant on prompting he lets the phone enter sleep mode most of the time.

Last week, I brought along a fidget spinner for him to fiddle with but it didn't seem to interest him for long. But he waited patiently and I conveniently assumed he's "absorbing" the music he's hearing (a safe assumption because he always looks very happy when I practise the same songs at home).

This week, the performers had to practise stage movements so we seat him where the audience should be - facing us.

After a while, I noticed that Calder's face was no longer visible. I could only see his hair. He had hung his head so low I thought he had fallen asleep. But he was awake,  obediently seated but not comfortable facing us.

I never knew my son has this level of difficulty with eye contact.

Trampoline Park

Yesterday I received a text asking if Calder would be joining the youth group for trampoline jumping today.

Trampoline? Oh, Calder loves the trampoline. We actually had trampolines at home for him to release his energy when he was small. Trampolines with an "s" because they were so well-used they had to be replaced a few times.

It was later that I found out the youths were heading for a trampoline park. Oh, not in church premise but out for a few hours with people who, though kind, may not know him enough to take adequate care of him.

They did not know, for instance, that Calder needs reminding to finish his food. They did not know that he might linger in the toilet and not come out unless prompted. They did not know that he answers "yes" to almost any question. And they did not know that they can gently distract him if he does something inappropriate, like playing with his sandals or putting a finger in his mouth.

The protective instinct told me, in this case, to keep him with me where he's safe because I understand him. But there's another voice that questions: how are people to understand him if he's "protected" from them? Especially since World Autism Awareness Day is approaching - the best way for people to understand autism, isn't it for them to interact with one such as Calder?

There's another facet of consideration: Would the youths feel burdened about Calder tagging along? Perhaps the outing is not meant for a special-needs. Perhaps I as Calder's Mom should have the sense to relieve them of the obligation.

But I do want Calder to make friends, even though he communicates minimally. Since he enjoys jumping, perhaps this is a good opportunity for bonding with people who might become his friends, his protectors, his champions even.

So I decided to put my worries aside and let him go.

I communicated to the youth-in-charge: "Appreciate patient guidance so he doesn't feel lost." And was pleasantly surprised by the reply: "We'll do our best! Thanks for having faith in us." Oh, so while this parent was wondering if Calder was welcome, the other side was wondering if the parent might be able to let go.

The youth-in-charge asked me if I had instructions for the buddy he's going to assign Calder and I found myself typing:

"Speak to Calder gently.
He may need prompting to eat his food.
Please look for him if he doesn't come out of the toilet.
Look him in the eye.
And smile."

So it was settled that Calder would be in the care of the youths who would give him his breakfast and his lunch, who would bring him to the toilet and who would jump with him in the trampoline park.

Even before the WhatsApp communication had come to an end, I had started praying for the arrangement to go well. I hope Calder wouldn't feel lost and wouldn't get lost. I made sure to charge the handphone in his haversack so his whereabouts could be tracked should he wander out of the trampoline park.

This morning, after releasing Calder to the youth group at 9am, I continued praying for the outing to go well. To my delight, the youth-in-charge texted me later that Calder seemed to have enjoyed himself. Sure enough, when I collected Calder from the youth room near 2pm, I was met with a radiant grin.

While waiting for Calder to return from the outing, I shared with Ethel my concerns and was surprised by her point of view -

Ethel: Oh, if  Calder go for the trampoline park with them...
(I thought she's going to acquiesce that he would feel lost)
... he would unleash his true self and that might frighten some of them off.
(I think she meant he might start giggling and bouncing wildly.)

Me: Wow, that's a good one - "unleash his true self".

Ethel: Why?

Me: Sounds powerful.

Ethel: Yah right?

Sorry

At the supermarket today, Calder took a basket and as usual I reminded him to be careful with it. Oops his basket hit a lady crouching by the cold vegetable section. I didn't see it happening but caught the gist by the look on that lady's face. As usual, I apologised on Calder's behalf. The fellow was still swinging his basket like nothing had happened. The lady was not at all appeased by my apology.

"Don't know how to say sorry," she  grumbled.

Me: "Calder, say sorry."

Calder: "Sorry!"

Unfortunately he didn't look at all penitent.

Me: "Sorry. He is autistic."

On the way home, I was wondering what's the best thing to do in such situations: Calder oblivious to the offense he's caused - unfortunately not an unusual occurrence. When necessary, I've always been the one to instruct Calder to apologise. But nobody likes a scripted apology so how do I get Calder to say "sorry" spontaneously?

Then I had an idea. Whenever he hits me or steps on my foot accidentally, I'll turn my face to him and exclaim "ouch!" That is the cue that will elicit a loud "sorry" from him. He's so cheerful about it I think he sees it like a game. Sometimes I wonder if he'd fire "sorry" to an "ouch" that is not his fault. But I suppose I can use this to solve the issue at hand - to do a quiet "ouch" so that he would bellow his "sorry" to appease whoever has been upset by him.

Actually it's a consolation of sorts that people often don't see his autism and therefore assume he's being rude, until the Mommy offers an explanation.

Meanwhile, Ethel heard my idea and was very tickled by the picture of Calder's enthusiastic "sorry".

Me: "Yes, Calder is going to bellow 'sorry' so loud that everyone can hear it!"

Ethel: "I think Calder is the most amusing autistic boy around."

Piano Fiasco

A few days ago, Calder melted down because he could not play a new piano piece.

I must confess I was largely at fault. I didn't hide my exasperation that he couldn't recognise the basic high C note. And that he couldn't see that two notes on the same line means he should play the same sound twice. I forgot often that Calder cannot sight-read.

Last Thursday, Calder's piano teacher remarked that Calder must have been working very hard to be able to grasp one song within one week. Truth is Calder doesn't have homework and tests like his sister because he studies in a special school. At home, if he doesn't play the piano, he's watching TV or listening to music. He has no initiative to practice on his own but he's always very happy when Mommy has time to guide him in his piano. And it gives him great delight to be able to play a new music piece from beginning to end. We usually tackle the piece a portion at a time so it takes him about four days to go through a longer piece.

If he's able to play the piano relatively well, it's because he likes to practise. He can sit at the piano for an hour, playing till his hands ache and he has to shake his fingers loose yet he remains cheerful. It's also because he has good memory. I'm always amazed by how his left fingers can settle so easily at the correct keys for chords. The other thing I've observed is that his brain does amazing fixing when he's asleep - the mistakes committed at one practice would have disappeared by the next day's practice.

I enjoy guiding him at his piano. Yes, I help him learn his music pieces even though I've discovered long ago that I'm no longer his match - I can tell when he plays  wrongly but cannot demonstrate the right way to go about it.

Saturday morning was our first time trying out Marriage D'amour. He couldn't place his fingers at the right places so I instructed him to play the same portion over and over again. I pointed at a note on the score and asked him what it was and was frustrated when he gave me random answers. I said, "Play double of each note, Calder" and carelessly overlooked that of course he wouldn't know what's "double".

That's when Calder started banging the piano and chanted "take escalator take escalator" (no idea why he said that) and yelled.

Oh oh. We were supposed to join his granny for lunch. Can he make it? Should I let him play familiar pieces to calm him down? Nope, not working. So I asked him to lie on his bed before I turned off the light. I vaguely remembered that he had been taught (in school) breathing techniques to calm down. So I asked him to blow 20 times. Still crying.

I took over the blowing instead. "One (gentle blow on his face), two (another gentle blow on his face), three... twenty (a kiss on his forehead)." Again, Calder? He indicated yes. So I did it another two rounds.

By this time, I was smiling as I blew. Because he had stopped crying. His breathing had calmed and he was gazing very intently into my eyes. A very special moment.

"Calder Mommy love. Sorry I was impatient."

Then I got him to blow onto my fingers 20 times. And directed him to the kitchen for apple (I've noticed that crunching has a calming effect). And in case he was hungry, I gave him a cake too.

By the time we came out of the house to take a bus, he was smiling.

Sunshine after the rain.

I must remember that Calder can play the piano without recognising notes. I must also handle his feelings with care, and not assume that because he is quiet, he is immune.

Gok Gok

Two days ago, Calder tripped when he was alighting from the school bus. First I saw his haversack flying to the ground. Then I saw him tumbling onto the asphalt.

"Ahahaha! Gok gok!" He wailed tearlessly. "Ooh dear ooh dear!" I joined him, "It's ok - Mommy will clean clean." At the back of my mind, I was thinking: Uh oh. Is he going to melt down?

Though distraught, he followed me up the flat and into the bathroom and watched as I sprayed water to clean his knee. By then, blood was oozing from the scrapes.

"Mommy put cream cream," I narrated as I applied antiseptic using a cotton bud, "Ooh dear. Calder fell down and it's so painful!" I blew gently on his knee.

The next thing I thought of is: Can he go bowling in this state? (He learns bowling with Special Olympics every Tuesday afternoon.) Probably not. And no swimming tomorrow either (he has swimming CCA in school every Wednesday). Uh oh. Is he going to get upset for missing these favourite activities?

I explained, "Calder, gok gok so no bowling. And cannot swim tomorrow because it'll be painful in the water."

So he spent the afternoon sitting on the sofa watching TV, listening to music. Good thing he could still practise piano - another of his favourite thing to do.

I waited till end of the day, when the wound is dryer, to bathe him. "What happened, Calder?" I asked when he grimaced. "Gok gok!" So the wound was smarting under the running water. When I tried to reapply the antiseptic cream, he held onto my hands to keep me from touching his knee.

"Calder, do you want to swim tomorrow?" I ventured.

"No!"

For your information, Calder replies "yeh" to almost anything.

The next day, when I stopped him from blowing at my face (his new idea of play), he put up his leg and blew at his injured knee instead. And giggled.

I'm so thankful that Calder did not melt down during the episode. Though painful, this is also a precious experience for the meaningful interaction that ensued.