A Part Time AAC Using Teacher in an AAC Classroom

I’ve been using AAC a lot at home recently. It feels really good. It feels comfortable in a way that mouth words don’t. Mouth words are stressful even in non-stressful situations. They tend to tumble out of me unbidden and uncontrolled. Ensuring that the correct words come out in the correct order with the correct tone at the correct time.... I can usually manage most of that, but rarely all of it, and it’s a lot of work. And don’t ask me what I said. I rarely have a clue.

Still, although I often text across the classroom or across the building for communication access, I’ve never seen AAC as a viable communication tool in the classroom. What’s frustrating is that it’s not for any practical reason.

It’s feeling like I owe people explanations I don’t want to give for why I’m doing things differently than I used to. I don’t owe anybody any explanation I don’t want to give. “I can communicate clearer this way” is enough. I say that. I’m not sure I believe it.

It’s feeling like I’m sending mixed messages or like I’m not providing a good model for my students and staff of the expectations for language modeling or AAC device use because even when I’m using AAC, I tend to mix it with mouth words. I’m a part time AAC user and that’s hard to explain. (It’s also different from my students who are primary AAC users or my students who use AAC for communication repair.) I understand the difference. I’m still afraid others won’t.

I know the answer, like all the accessibility tools I’ve tried incorporating into my classroom routines this year, is “try it and see how it works for you.” I don’t know why this one feels so different from using mobility aids. Maybe it’s because we teach students to use AAC and we don’t teach students to use canes? Really, that should be all the more reason to do it.

Maybe I’ll try on Monday. Assuming we don’t get snowed out.

Queer Eye: A Problematic Relationship With Disability from the Start

There’s a new episode in the upcoming season of Queer Eye that’s getting, well deserved, derision from the disability community for the title “Disabled But Not Really.” The primary frustration I’ve heard is that Queer Eye has steadfastly ignored the Disability community for so many seasons and episodes, and then chose this, extremely problematic, individual to highlight as their one “disabled makeover.”

My argument is simple. Queer Eye hasn’t been ignoring the disability community. They’ve had a problematic relationship with disability throughout the run of the show. 

Many of the individuals they have made over have explicitly said during the episode that they currently have or previously had a diagnosis of depression. Depression is a real mental illness. It is a disability. But the way Queer Eye treats it, giving them a fresh start is the cure. (It’s not.) There’s a reason that the dramatic “after the makeover” parties that end the episode are videos of the day after the intervention, and not a week or month or year later. That kind of intervention is exciting and fresh, but doesn’t have long term effects. I’d love to see them do a “Queer Eye: One Year Later” special and prove me wrong, but without follow-up intervention, the research is on my side.

The other problem the show has with it’s approach to disability is Karamo and his entire approach to the makeover project. He’s a charismatic guy and it’s easy to see why people connect with him. But his fundamental problem is he’s a one trick pony. To look at him, it’s obvious he takes fitness seriously. So it’s no surprise that he uses physical activity to “get people out of their comfort zone” in almost every episode. I recognize that we need that “made for TV emotional moment” for viewership. But the show misses the opportunity, every single time, to acknowledge that the “aha” moment is just the beginning of a much longer process, and that process won’t happen automatically. Every time, the show misses a real opportunity to reduce stigma and provide awareness about mental health resources that could provide long term benefits not just for the individual on the episode but for all people living with mental illness.

Queer Eye has made a start in trying to be more inclusive. They have simply fallen prey to what most of media falls prey to. Lack of representation or consultation within the production team. They don’t know what they don’t know. Much like Karamo only really knows how to get people out of their comfort zone and get that emotional moment using physical tools to get that “aha” moment, the show only knows how to portray a snapshot/momentary intervention. I encourage the show to reach out and partner with groups like NAMI to provide resources and connections that have the power to truly change people’s lives. Queer Eye has the voice. They say their goal is to promote inclusion and acceptance. My hope is that they learn from the feedback they have gotten from the disability community, step up, and use that voice to promote the resources that will create inclusion and acceptance for ALL.