"Big Al" Makes a Name for Himself

Alex Moshenko is the son of disability advocate Monica Moshenko, Parent, Advocate and Host of Disability News Radio and friend and volunteer of [with]tv.  This is her son’s story:

"My name is Alex Moshenko. I am 14 years old now. I was diagnosed with a form of autism, Asperger syndrome, when I was six. I never cared about it too much. I actually made someone laugh when I was first told about it, which is always a good start – better to laugh than cry."

The above is Alex’s introduction to an article he wrote for TAP Magazine: The Autism Perspective titled “Who is Big Al of Al’s Wrestling Talk?"

"Ever since then, I have had sensory issues and social skills problems, but I am able to stick to something and learn all I can from it. I have been on TV multiple times and in the newspaper a few times too. I have been an advocate for autism since I was about eight years old. It was then that I first found out about wrestling."

Like his mother, Alex is now the host of his own radio program: Al’s Wrestling Talk

Meet Alex and read his story, in his own words, at:

Living with ASD / UNDERSTANDING AUTISM By Alex Moshenko :
Download  tap_2007_3_who_is_big_al_21.pdf

And keep an eye out for this young man.  I think this is a "you ain’t seen nothin’ yet" kind of situation!

Continue reading “"Big Al" Makes a Name for Himself”

Disability and the Dialectic of Dependency

Thank you, Dr. David Bolt, Editor of The Journal of Literary Disability, the only academic publication that focuses on the literary representation of
disability, for forwarding this information to us. 

We’re pleased to share this with our friends:

Continue reading “Disability and the Dialectic of Dependency”

The Clever Title: Book Reviews and Other Cool Things

I would like to recommend a new literature and "other cool stuff" blog called: "The Clever Title: Book Reviews and Other Cool Things

This new blog is hosted, in part, by Ira Sukrungruang, a professor of creative writing at the State University of New York at Oswego.  Ira is a terrific writer, but he’s also a great reader and he has what the Victorians used to call a "circle" and what the French used to call an "atelier" and which they call "a posse" in the hood–namely, he has sharp friends who think about the human oddity known as "bookishness"–and which the Victorians called "Englishness" and which the French call "le mot just" and which they call in the hood "hip hop" and which they call in Finland,"not killing yourself because the weather is unsupportive of primate life which is why books were invented in the first place".  (That is, of course, all one word in Finnish.) 

I encourage you to visit this new blog today!  Tell ’em Steve K. sent you…

S.K.

Musical Milestones

Congratulations_2
Before continuing with this post (written by Steve) as a contribution to the next Disability Blog Carnival, Steve and I would like to take this opportunity to congratulate Penny L. Richards for her all her continuing hard work and dedication to the Disability Blog Carnival, which she launched one year ago.  Bravo, Penny.  Bravo!  We’ve made many new friends thanks to you!

~ Steve and Connie

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The Week That Was

The Week that Was

Flew east.

Flew west.

Bought bialys at College town Bagels in Ithaca, New York. (One of those places that smells of hot bread, even at night.)

Spoke at State U of New York at Oswego.

Spoke at Metropolitan Museum in New York, New York.

Saw my friend Karl who was teaching "The Elephant Man" and who was mildly affected by his students’ disaffection for the flick.

Saw my old friend Jim who has a new book of poems coming out soon.

Saw my pal Ira who is just home from a long sojourn in Thailand. Ira is the world’s largest Buddhist monk. Hands down.

Watched beloved New York Mets go down the drain.

Ate bacon with Clea who is studying all of Asia and cooking Middle Eastern street foods.

Talked with glass artist, Katherine who is trying to find a video camera fast enough to film breaking tempered glass.

Met fellow from MIT who believes above can be accomplished, maybe.

Talked to flight attendant who is scared of dogs. Told her Vidal’s most dangerous feature is his breath.

Ate glorious take out food from Zabar’s in Manhattan.

Talked about a poet’s recent suicide with my literary agent Irene. Talked about death with old friend David whose wife passed away almost one year ago.

Talked about living with David who is working gently at the art of light and breathing. They are the same art.

Talked to my wife Connie about starting a bell choir.

Talked to old dog Roscoe about the scent of love.

Talked to young dog Maggie about same.

Talked to my father in law Bill about miseries of selling the house.

Talked to my mother in law, Norma, about misery of selling hand made crafts in era of Chinese knock offs.

Talked to stepson Ross about his first college paper.

Tried on silly hat made from pine cones while dreaming.

Talked about human rights with fellow from South Africa whose car broke down in South Dakota. He was dropping off rental at airport.

Got back to Iowa City just in time for tornado sirens. It was a real tornado. It didn’t do significant damage except to say that it scared lots of creatures.

While the tornado was coming I put on my New York Mets warm-up jacket. I figured disaster had already struck the Mets so I’d be safe if I wore it.

Had a second dream about a hat made of pine cones. Suspect it might be my father checking in from the afterlife. Hi dad.

S.K.

Split This Rock Poetry Festival: Mark Your Calendars!

At about the same time I stumbled on this post which neatly summarizes the Split This Rock Poetry Festival now being organized in Washington, D.C., we received an e-mail from Sarah Browning, the Festival Coordinator.  The excitement over this event is building and I thought it time to mention it to our friends so you can mark your calendars.  Steve has been asked to participate in this event and what an honor that is.  Just look at this list of featured poets, will you!

The dates chosen for this event coincide with the fifth anniversary of the invasion of Iraq.
The only "glitch" is that Easter turns out to be very early this year, falling on March 23, 2008, the last day of the festival.  Easter, spring in Washington, D.C., poetry – could be lovely!

Blue Girl, here’s your chance to soak up a lot of poetry!  See you there?

Georgia?  Lesley?  Andrea and Zac?  David?  See you there?

~ Connie

Thoughts While Shaving: Or, My Muse

What does it take to drop old habits of thinking about disability? I want to see a day when people with disabilities are not conceived of as a separate category of the citizenry, as say, "disabled museum patrons" or "disabled scholars". If the field of disability studies has any intrinsic value it must lie in precisely this area of engagement. PWDs are not exceptional learners or spectators. They are the public.

If you’re really reading me you’ll notice that I don’t see distinctions between able bodiedness and the compensatory notion that there exists a specialized learning process for PWDs.

The blind don’t learn something special by having a tactile experience of a painting. The sighted do not learn anything special by walking around blindfolded.

Each of the examples above can only be illuminating if the exercise is conceived of as a performance not about what we know, but rather about what remains unknown.

Just because a person can see a painting doesn’t in turn mean they know how to talk about what they see. And just because a blind person can walk around New York and "know" the place by alternative means, doesn’t automatically suggest that their impressions of this experience are going to be worthy of poetry.

The arts are invaluable insofar as we’re challenged to think about the poetry of each exquisite minute. In the end, the muse doesn’t care what your body looks like.

S.K.

Art Beyond Sight

This morning I had the privilege to deliver the keynote address that opened a two day conference at the Metropolitan Museum in New York City. The conference is called "Art Beyond Sight" and I want to post my comments on the blog so that people with hearing impairments or anyone else for that matter can see again what I said about art and blindness.

I had to leave the museum after my talk because my guide dog Vidal was having an upset stomach. If you were at the conference and would like to write to me, please feel free to do so. I had to leave the lecture hall for the sake of the museum’s carpet.

S.K.

 

Continue reading “Art Beyond Sight”