skills share

Recognizing uniqueness is not a substitute for thinking about disability

Teachers who are really good at teaching typically developing kids sometimes have trouble understanding the significance of disability. I’ve heard a lot of things like “all kids are unique” and “I always individualize my approach for every kid” and “I don’t see the need to label any kids as disabled, it’s just a matter of finding what works for them”.

This sounds positive, but it can be a disaster for kids with disabilities.

We talk a lot about uniqueness, but a lot of effective teaching depends on understanding ways in which kids are similar to each other. Developmentally appropriate practice means understanding how kids the same age are similar to each other — then being flexible in ways that recognize kids’ unique humanity. We develop a sense of what the range of difference is for kids of a particular age.

Kids with disabilities are more different than that, and we need to take those differences seriously. Disability matters, and practices based on typical developmental milestones don’t account for it.

For instance:

Developmental milestones tell us:

  • Two year olds don’t have the motor skills to support handwriting.
  • Early education helps two year olds develop the motor skills that will eventually support handwriting.
  • Ten year olds do have the motor skills to support handwriting.
  • If they’ve had appropriate education, ten year olds should be able to write.

Developmental milestones don’t tell us:

  • How to teach ten year olds who don’t have the fine motor skills to support handwriting.
  • What early literacy and pre-writing instruction looks like for young children who are unlikely to develop the motor skills needed to support handwriting

It’s also important to understand the difference between unusual and unique. Disability means having unusual differences. But not every difference is unique. Some differences are shared by other people with disabilities. Those shared differences are important.

We need to understand the disability-related similarities. Part of that is having the right words to describe them. Calling disabilities by their right names isn’t about labeling, it’s about breaking isolation and making important things speakable.

For instance:

Braille:

  • Braille exists because blind people need it to exist
  • The differences between sighted people and blind people are a reason that braille needs to exist.
  • (And a reason that Braille is better than raised print).
  • The similarities between many blind people are a reason that braille *can* exist as a standard way of accessing literacy. 
  • If each blind person was completely unique, there would be no way to create a reading and writing system that would work for large numbers of blind people.

Some other examples:

  • Wheelchairs.
  • Ramps.
  • Large print.
  • Cars with hand controls and/or wheelchair lifts.
  • Text-to-speech communication devices.
  • VoiceOver and other screen reading software.
  • Signed languages.
  • Medications that manage symptoms.
  • Supportive seating.
  • The ADA, Section 504, IDEA and other disability rights laws.

People with disabilities are unique, and not interchangeable with each other. Similarly, kids the same age are unique, and not interchangeable with each other. Both the similarities and differences are important.

Tl;dr Sometimes progressive educators are uncomfortable with the concept of disability, and want to instead just see every kid’s uniqueness. That doesn’t work, because disability means having unusual differences — and because the differences aren’t unique; they’re shared with many other disabled people. Recognizing uniqueness isn’t enough — we also need to understand and accommodate disability.

5

“Cards on the table?”

SAFE-PLACE VISUALIZATION

( I really wanted to share this skill from my DBT workboob because so far it has done wonders for my stress, you should really try it out!)

Safe-place visualization is a powerful stress-reduction technique. Using it, you can soothe yourself by imagining a peaceful, safe place where you can relax. Make sure you conduct the exercise in a quiet room where you’ll be free from distractions. Turn off your television, phone and radio.

Before you begin the exercise, think of a real or imaginary place that makes you feel safe and relaxed. It can be a real place that you’ve visited in the past, such as the beach, a park, a field, a church/temple, your room and so on. Or it can be a place that you’ve completely made up. such as a white cloud floating in the sky, a medieval castle, or the surface of the moon. It can be anywhere. If you have trouble thinking of a place, think of a color that makes you feel relaxed, such as pink or baby blue. Just do your best.

Instructions

  • To begin, sit in a comfortable chair with your feet flat on the floor and your hands resting comfortably, either on the arms of the chair or in your lap

  • Close your eyes

  • Take a slow, long breath in through your nose

  • Feel your belly expand like a balloon as you breathe in

  • Hold it for five seconds, then release it slowly through your mouth

  • Feel your belly collapse like a balloon losing its air

  • Again, take a slow, long breath and feel stomach expand

  • Hold it for five seconds then slowly exhale slowly through your mouth

  • One more time, take a slow, long breath in through your nose

  • Hold it for five seconds then exhale slowly through your mouth

  • Now begin to take slow, long breaths without holding them in and keep that going through the entire exercise

  • Now, with your closed eyes, imagine that you enter your safe place

  • First, look around using your imaginary sense of sight. What does this place look like? Are you alone or are there any other people or animals? Notice the details, what are they doing? If you’re outside, look up and notice the sky, look at the horizon. If you’re inside, notice what the walls and furniture look like. Is the room light or dark? Choose something soothing to look at.

  • Next, use your imaginary sense of hearing. What do you hear? Do you hear other people or animals? Do you hear music? Do you hear the wind or the ocean? Choose something soothing to hear.

  • Then use your imaginary sense of smell. If you’re inside, what does it smell like? Does it smell fresh? Do you have a fire burning that you can smell? Or, if you’re outside, can you smell the air, the grass, the ocean, or the flowers? Choose to smell something soothing. 

  • Next, notice if you can feel anything with your imaginary sense of touch. What are you sitting or standing on in your scene? Can you feel the wind? Can you feel something you’re touching in the scene? Choose to touch something soothing in your scene. 

  • Last, use your imaginary sense of taste. Are you eating or drinking anything in this scene? Choose something soothing to taste.

  • Take a few more seconds to explore your safe place using all your imaginary senses. Recognize how safe and relaxed you feel here. Remember that you can come back to this place whenever you’re feeling sad, angry, restless, or in pain
  • Look around one last time to remember what it looks like

  • Now keep your eyes closed and return your focus to your breathing

  • Take some slow, long breaths in through your nose and exhale through your mouth

  • Then, when you feel ready, open your eyes


And the winner is…@cioccolatodorima!

With an art style perfectly reminiscent of Himaruya’s, it’s no wonder that @cioccolatodorima has won Hetalia fans over with their amazing art! As well as providing the fandom with cute comics so uncanny they could be canon, @cioccolatodorima has shared their skills through several helpful tutorials! Congratulations on being voted the Hetalia fandom’s Artist of the Year 2016!

Congratulations as well to the other finalists for making it this far! You’re all amazing artists too!

I don’t want to be angry anymore. I want to be calm. I want to stop hurting people and blowing up all the time. I hate myself for it. It’s straining my relationship. It’s made my mom cry. I just lose it and blow up on anyone that’s near me when I’m mad and I know it isn’t fair but I feel like I can’t control it, and every time I go off I just get more angry at myself and it makes it worse. My anger is out of control and I don’t know how to fix it. I feel like the worst piece of shit.
—  Posted by Anonymous
THE HUNK X FOOD DISCOURSE

Hunk shown being proud abt his cooking skills, Hunk sharing his food with his friends as comfort/support, Hunk sharing his knowledge about certain recipes, Hunk as a genuine foodie with an articulate taste

Me: The Good™ Content 👌👌👌👌

Hunk only in the sidelines askin bout food thinkin bout food hey what are y'all talkin bout here look im eating food

Me: GET THAT SHIT AWAY FROM M

Eight Parts of a Whole

Originally posted by v-writings

Originally posted by jais-courtney

Warren Worthington III x Reader

Eight Parts of a Whole

Author: Morgan

Note: Okay, so I just watched all of Sense8 in like two days and I might be crazy, but I think Wolfgang looks a HELL OF A LOT like Warren and I was already having feels, so here, have this thing. It might be multiple parts, it might be one huge long fic. I don’t know. Edit: It’s just one big long fic.

Stars. You always seemed to be under the stars when he decided to show up. Lying on the roof outside your bedroom in your blue polka-dotted pajamas. Being a mutant was not easy. Being a mutant in a cluster of eight of them was something else entirely. You were not one person. You were eight. Kind of. Eight different people in one mind who share skills, have conversations, and be connected to one another, despite being actually located on different sides of the globe. So far away, and yet you couldn’t be closer.

Warren was always the one that came to comfort you after bad dates. Especially after he had saved your ass. Pinned the asshole against the wall and dared him to make another move.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Warren asked. You shook your head. “Do you want me to leave?”

“Stay.” Your voice was quiet. You pulled your knees to your chest. “Please.”

“Okay.”

“Warren?”

“Yeah?”

“What’s wrong?”

“My parents are shipping me out tomorrow. Some school for people like us. Mutants, that is. They think it’ll help…make it go away.”

“Make me go away?”

“Make all of it go away.” Warren’s wings shuddered. “Make all of you go away.”

“Easier said than done.” Ororo sat down with the two of you. “Where’s the school?”

“Yes, vhere is zhe school?” Kurt joined the three of you. You figured Peter was probably sleeping, Scott was probably visiting with Jean, and Jubilee was God-knows-where.

“New York somewhere. I don’t know.”

“We’re with you.” You took his hand and suddenly, you were in his bedroom. All of you were. “We’ll always be with you. They can’t take us away from you.”

“We’ll see.” Warren leaned back against his bedpost, his large feathery wings spread out behind him. It wasn’t often that all eight of you were together, but when you were, it was like the world had stopped. It didn’t matter that Kurt was in Germany and Ororo was in Egypt, or that Scott was in Ohio while Jubilee was in California and Peter was in New Mexico. You were together in the only way that mattered.

***

“You’re not going to prom?” Warren sat on your bed. You were having a Netflix marathon.

“Nope.”

“Why not?”

“No one asked.”

“You’re gonna let that stop you?”

“Yeah, pretty much.” You shrugged. The bed dipped under his weight. “Always bugging me, huh? Never Peter or Kurt or Ororo?”

“Do you want me to leave?”

“No.” You shook your head. “When’s school start?”

“Monday.”

“Is that why you’re here?”

“Yeah, kinda.” He shrugged. “I dunno. Sometimes it just helps to talk. To you. I don’t wanna lose this. All of you.”

“You won’t lose us.” You stated, closing your laptop. “We’re not exactly normal mutants.”

“I know, but-”

“You know what? Let’s go somewhere. Anywhere.”

“Your prom?”

“Not there.” You stood up. Warren stood beside you.

“Then let’s go to Scott’s prom.”

“Didn’t go to prom.” Scott showed up in the doorway. “My girlfriend is a voice I hear in my head. Didn’t wanna go with someone else. Or look crazy slow-dancing with myself, that is.”

“To be fair, I hear voices in my head all the time, not just when I’m with you guys.” Jean showed up.

“Did anyone go to prom?”

“Jubes did. California prom is crazy. You guys should come!” Peter popped in wearing a silver tux. “Kurt and Ororo are there.”

“Doesn’t Kurt have a show tonight?” Your blue friend lived in the Munich circus. He performed quite often.

“He’s done it so many times he doesn’t even have to think about it. Plus, he’s a teleporter. He’s used to being two places at once.” Ororo shrugged. Her dress was strapless, black, drop-dead gorgeous.

“Come on, (Y/N).” Warren raised an eyebrow. “I’ll save a dance for you.”

You looked at the others, each of their eyes pleading you to come with them, to have fun for just a few hours.

“All right, fine.” And then you were there. It wasn’t even a struggle to pop in somewhere across the country. Your dress was fierce and red, and it matched the tie of Warren’s suit. Jubilee smiled at the rest of you from the crowd of dancing teens. You and Warren waved at her. And just before you jumped into the dancing, the music slowed down.

Warren pulled you close to him, his arms tight around your waist while your head came to rest on his muscular chest. His warm wings wrapped around you, and in that single moment, you knew why you ended up with him every time you thought about love. It scared you to admit it, so you didn’t. But you felt all of his feelings. He felt all of yours. And though neither of you would say it you knew. And so you hugged him tighter. Sure, you hadn’t gone to your prom, but nothing could beat this moment.

***

Sunday night Warren should have been sleeping, but once again, he found himself with you. He only hoped that this time maybe the others would stay out. He loved you guys. All of you, but there were times when he just wanted a chance to talk to you.

“Hey.” You said quietly. He nodded and sat on your bed. “You wanna talk about it?”

“Not really.” His shoulders slumped under the weight of his wings.

“Okay.” You nodded. “What do you want to talk about?”

“Anything but tomorrow.”

“Okay.” You nodded. “I decided something today.”

Warren raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“I’m going to find you.” You told him. He looked at you with guarded eyes. “I have to find you.”

“Why?”

“You know why.” You rolled your eyes and leaned back against your bedpost, staring at the ceiling of your bedroom.

“I want to hear you say it.” His voice was quiet, pleading.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” His land hovered over your face, thumb gently tracing your soft lips. Oh, what he wouldn’t do to kiss you… “More than you could ever know.”

“I’m going to find you. This summer. I’m going to come to you and we can be us. Together. In person.”

A moment passed and suddenly you were in Warren’s room, beneath the covers of his bed. It was darker here than it was in your room. There were no nightlights or laptops. Just you and him and the light under the door. Warren’s chest was bare. All that covered his toned body was a pair of tight black boxers. His golden curls had fallen into a messy halo. You were lying on his chest, rising and falling with each of his breaths. His lips were soft against your forehead.

“Goodnight.”

“Night.”

And though he was the one with the wings, he wasn’t sure how this angel had fallen for him…

***

Because Warren was transferring near the end of the year, he didn’t see the point in even transferring at all. Until he got there and Jean was standing in the front room.

“Jean?” He asked. She whipped around at the sound of his voice.

“Warren? This is your new school? You made it sound like you were being sent to prison.” The tall winged teen looked around the mansion.

“I thought I was…” a smirk tugged at his lips. “Not what my parents had in mind, I’m sure.” He pulled his phone out of his back pocket. “I’ve gotta text (Y/N).”

***

Your phone buzzed during your lunch hour. A picture from Warren to the groupchat. He was with Jean. In person. His new school was the mutant school she raved about. He wasn’t being sent to prison after all.

So of course, you popped in immediately.

“Woah, nice place.” You looked around.

“You’re here,” Warren breathed, taking you in his arms. “Well, not really, but you know what I mean.”

“This place is super nice. Wait. Is this Xavier’s?”

“Yes.” Jean nodded. “It is.”

“I’ve heard about this place! I applied to a summer program here!”

“You’re going to be here this summer.” Warren repeated, mulling over the words you had spoken. You were going to be here. Soon.

“Yes. I am.”

“Who might this be?” Warren and Jean turned to look as Professor Xavier rolled into the lobby of the mansion. His eyes narrowed at the sight of Warren, and though you should have been invisible to him, his curious blue eyes seemed to land on you too. “You’re one of them.”

“Yeah.” Warren nodded. Your hand slipped into his.

“And you are too.” His eyes met yours. Was he actually talking to you? How did he even see you? “I’m a telepath, Miss (L/N). I’ve just never seen another cluster. I didn’t know another existed until Jean told me.”

“I guess we have a lot to talk about…”

***

And so the quest began. Charles and Hank were determined to find another cluster and bring them all together as they had decades before. Their own cluster. And though things hadn’t worked out so well for them, they had hope for this younger cluster. They would soon know what true power felt like, what it felt like to lean on your new family, borrow their abilities and band together to be more than a group of mutants, but to be a team of them.

Scott was the first to get to the mansion, much to Jean’s delight and Warren’s dismay. It was almost as though the two had accidently gotten their lips glued together in a freak accident of some sort. They were always making out, always holding hands. It was disgusting…He wished you were there.

Peter came next, quite literally running across the country to find the mansion. Warren was glad to at least have someone who wasn’t practically conjoined to another member of their cluster.

After Peter was Kurt, Ororo, and then shortly after, Jubilee. When Jubes had gotten there, they had all sent you a group selfie. Warren sent a text with it. Wish you were here.

Wish I was too. You replied. I love you guys. I’ll be there soon. I promise.

***

He appeared in the car beside you as you made your way there. He took your hand, kissing his way up your arm to your neck and then your jaw up to your cheek and then the corner of your lips and then…he stopped.

“I want to save that for the real one.” He whispered and pressed a kiss just in front of your ear. You took a shaky breath.

“Who is it?” Your mother asked.

“Warren.”

“It’s always Warren, isn’t it?” your father chuckled. “Tell that boy to keep his lips to himself.”

“No can do, sir.” Warren smirked. “I’m in love with your daughter.”

“He just had a snarky comeback, didn’t he?”

“It was kinda sappy, actually.” You smirked. “Going soft, angel boy.”

“Shut up.” He rolled his eyes. “When are you gonna get here?”

“Soon.” You replied. “Dad, how much longer?”

“We’re gonna stop to eat, and then we’ll get there about an hour after.”

“Good. Can’t wait.”

***

In the course of the car ride, all of the others had visited you too. Because classes had ended for the day, they had nothing better to do than wait for you. Warren was impatient, texting you every few minutes to make sure you were still coming, that you hadn’t gotten lost.

“Chill out, dude. You’re so tense.” Peter smirked. “We all love her too, you know.”

“I know, I just…” Warren exhaled. “I need to hold her. I need to have her here. I feel like I’m missing something without her.”

“I know,” Scott grinned as he spotted you coming up the courtyard behind Warren’s unsuspecting figure. You pressed a finger to your lips as you knelt on the grass behind him. You covered his eyes with your hands. As soon as your skin made contact with his, it was as though a million fireworks erupted. He couldn’t speak, he could barely breathe normally. The others felt it too.

Warren reached up to pull your hands off of his eyes. He couldn’t hold in the tears that formed. They slipped down his smooth cheeks. He got to his feet, shaking, and turned around to look at you. It was like the first time you met. Uncertain, sure, but it felt so right. Like everything in the universe had finally clicked into place.

The others got up too, looking you over as though you were a ghost. Like you would disappear any second. Warren was frozen, his eyes locked into yours. You were here. You were real. You were no longer a voice in his head, a vision of something he could never have, something he could never touch. You were here. And your hands were soft against his cheeks. The bright pink of your dress drew contrast from his black leather jacket and his curly Mohawk. You loved everything about him. The soft wings that emerged from his back, and the way his calloused hands felt against your bare skin.

“Hi,” you whispered.

“Hey,” a smile tugged at his smooth lips. He didn’t smile often, but it was the most gorgeous thing you had ever seen. His tough exterior making way for something brighter. “Nice to meet you. Finally.”

“Yeah.” You succumbed to his embrace, holding him tightly against you, and he held you just as tight, arms fast around you, wings too. It wasn’t long before the others joined in, arms wrapped around the pair of you, loving and warm. Your family. Eight parts of a whole. Eight bodies, one soul. Together at last.

Over sharing

That undiagnosed autistic feeling when you’re like info dumping to a distant acquaintance like a coworker or something. And it’s sometimes (most times) it’s something about your life or yourself.
And you’re like mid-statement but you start to realize you’re doing it again
And you see their interest waning
Or they look like they’d rather be anywhere else
Or they give you that patient smile-and-nod combo that doesn’t reach their eyes
Cuz their eyes are telling a completely different story about how they think you’re not right in the head and how much longer do they have to listen to you prattle on???
But you can’t stop talking until the statement/complete thought is finished
And then there’s that awkward silence and you just want the earth to swallow you whole.

ayyy build a community garden ayyy have a collective living space ayyyy share skills with one another ayyy trade clothes/other items ayyy try and live your ideas in your daily life ayyy build a world where our goals are more palatable to the common person ayyy doing something small is better than doing nothing ayyy

10

There is a moment toward the end of Sense8’s eighth episode that is unlike literally anything I have ever seen.

Nomi, a political activist who suddenly finds herself stalked by a mysterious organization bent on wiping her out because she possesses psychic powers, learns from one of the friends with whom she shares a psychic link that the bad guys are on their way.

With the help of her girlfriend, Nomi escapes the house where the couple has holed up, but she’s soon surrounded by cops working for the evil organization. She sends out a call for help, and in a thrilling, kinetic sequence that’s hard to describe, several of the other people with whom she’s psychically linked swap into her body to share their skills of, say, martial arts fighting, so that she can make her way to freedom. The show is at its best during moments like this one, when it leaves behind the leaden weight of exposition and simply showcases its loopy, high-concept in action. (x)

8

Taron: … He kind of sort of got me through it, really. He’s just always there to lend support, some advice. Colin just has been a really good friend, yeah. He’s a.. he’s a cracking fella. :) God, he’s going to watch this, isn’t he? :D

The Ones Who Ran 🐍 🐍 🐍 by @colubrina

■  Draco/Hermione feat.  Theo/Luna  Blaise/Ginny

Dramione Fanfic

Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger

“So,” Draco took another swallow of coffee, “do we fight or get out?”

Hermione lowered the half of the croissant she’d been raising to her mouth and said, her voice level, “ I beg your pardon?”

 “Oh, now you bring on the manners,” Draco muttered before leaning back and raking his eyes over the witch as insolently as he could. “You surely didn’t think I married you for your looks, Granger, or your winning personality?”

“It has occurred to me you might have simply lost your mind,” she snapped.