It's no secret.

It's no secret that I have ADHD. I'm open about it. I talk about it whenever it seems appropriate.

It's no secret that I don't think autism is The Worst Thing Ever. I've known a lot of kids and a lot of adults (both online and off) with autism spectrum disorders, and I have found them all incredibly interesting and entertaining (though sometimes frustrating) human beings.

It's no secret that I don't currently take medication for my ADHD. I stopped in May 2008. I'm reconsidering that decision, based on the difficulties I've been having in my life since I stopped working full-time - that lack of structure seems not to agree with me. I'm sure I'll post once I come to a final decision about it.

It's no secret that I don't think autism is caused by vaccines. I think it's primarily genetic, possibly with some kind of environmental trigger. Even if that trigger turns out to sometimes be vaccines, I don't think that's a reason to refuse vaccination for children, since I would prefer a live autistic child to a dead non-autistic child (and a lot of kids who don't get vaccinated are autistic anyway, so it's a crap shoot either way). I advocate intelligent vaccination schedules - check blood titers prior to vaccination (don't give a vaccine if there are already antibodies in the blood), only give one vaccine at a time (and spread them out), and weigh the risks of actual vaccine damage for each vaccine. The risks of not vaccinating far outweigh the risks of vaccinating, in my opinion; herd immunity is beginning to dwindle because of the number of people who aren't allowing their children to be vaccinated, and that means a rise in things like pertussis (which can kill infants) and measles (which isn't fun and does, occasionally, kill people).

It's no secret that I am a Christian. I was raised in a Christian home, and I continue to attend church every Sunday. I even wear a cross earring in my left ear, in addition to the usual earrings most women wear.

It's no secret that I think that trying to teach autistic children to pretend that they aren't autistic is damaging to their psyches and completely unhelpful. I think it makes a lot more sense to teach to their strengths, to focus on effective communication, and to ensure that the base reasons for disruptive and/or inappropriate behaviours are sought out and dealt with. (In other words, "task avoidance" is probably not the actual reason for a behaviour - figure out what about the task is distasteful and deal with that.)

It's no secret that I am something of a writer. I don't mean just this blog, I mean fiction. I have had an article published (Calgary's Child in fall 2007), but no short stories or novels. I have participated in National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) every year since 2001 (except for 2003), been a Municipal Liaison (ML) since 2005 (Calgary 2005-2008; now Saskatoon), and moderated the Character & Plot Realism Q&A forum since 2006. In 2006, I finished the 50,000 words that qualifies me as a winner. I achieved the goal again last year, in 2008. My novel last year was supposed to be the second in a series, but after some thought I have made it the first in the series, decided to rewrite my 2006 novel to be the second in the series, and this year's novel will be the third in the series. I'm writing Young Adult novels about teens with disabilities. I'll let you know when they start being published.

It's no secret that I have a low tolerance for disrespect. One of the reasons I think as I do about how we approach autism is that I think many current methods are inherently disrespectful of the individual's wants and needs. Arguing with someone who has a disorder over whether or not that disorder exists is disrespectful and devalues the struggles that person faces every day.

It's no secret that I don't censor people who disagree with me, either. Looking through the comments on this blog (especially my previous post) should make that abundantly clear. I don't delete comments that disagree with me, I respond to them (when necessary). I am a fan of discussion. Of course, my preference is that it be done respectfully.

It's no secret that I'm more interested in quality of life when it comes to disorders. I care less about what causes a disorder and more about how that disorder affects a person's life. I want to help people have happy, fulfilling lives, whether that means they knit blankets, run a business, or volunteer at the YMCA. The point is that people with disabilities should get to decide what to do with their lives, whether or not it's "productive" or "contributes to society."

In essence, it's no secret that I think that all human life is sacred and valuable, simply by virtue of the fact that it exists.

This entry's icon was created by the author.

I almost missed it - ten years ago today...

Ten years ago today, I embarked upon this strange and wonderful journey. It was the day I started my training in Lovaas-style Applied Behaviour Analysis (ABA). I was one member of a five-person team of therapists who would be coming in to the family's home to work with their three-year old son. He would be scheduled for over 40 hours per week, so that if anyone missed one of their two-hour shifts, he would still be likely to get his full 40 hours in. That 40+ hours was scheduled across all seven days of the week, though there were only two sessions on Sunday - plus our weekly team meetings. My starting wage was only $7.50 per hour, and I was working, on average, 10-12 hours per week, not counting the meetings.

Our consultant came to Thunder Bay from the Wisconsin Early Autism Project (WEAP). She conducted a three-day start-up workshop that started on August 21, 1999; she returned every three or four months after that, to conduct two-day follow-up workshops at which she advanced the curriculum and taught new techniques to the therapists as necessary. The child's parents paid for her transportation, her hotel, and a rental car, plus (I am sure) her fee.

The child was incredibly cute, the youngest of three children. His two older sisters were sweet and wanted to be involved in everything, but of course that's not always possible. The boy had blue eyes and light brown hair cut in a bit of a mullet (primarily because he refused to go near a hair salon). He was still in diapers. He didn't speak.

We had some teaching from the consultant about what autism is, what ABA is, and what we would be doing. Then we played with the child one-on-one, trying to develop a bit of a rapport with him while the others looked on.

The consultant taught us the techniques. Setting out the materials, what words to say, how to say them, how to prompt, and how to fade those prompts. How to praise, what to use as reinforcers (e.g., gummy bears, sparkly toys), and how to let him know he got the wrong answer. How to take data.

Then she taught us the "programs" that we would begin with - the same ones that are often the beginning of any ABA program (my memory may be faulty; I don't recall which we started that weekend):

Receptive Labels, in which the therapist sets out an array of items and requests one of them. The student is to pick up the correct one and place it in the therapist's waiting hand. This begins with 3-D objects and moves to pictures.

Receptive Imitation, in which the therapist performs an action after saying, "Do this." The student is to imitate the therapist's action. This begins with objects (e.g., hitting a peg with a hammer, pushing a car off the table) and moves to gross motor actions (e.g., turning around, clapping).

Matching, in which the therapist sets out an array of items and gives the student the match for one of them. The student is to place his item next to the matching one. This begins with 3-D objects and moves to pictures.

Receptive Commands, in which the therapist tells the student to perform an action. The student is to perform the action. This progresses from Receptive Imitation; the student is taught actions in Receptive Commands only once they are mastered in Receptive Imitation.

Puzzles, in which the therapist removes the pieces from a puzzle and sets it in front of the student. The student is to put the puzzle back together. This begins with simple shape puzzles with peg handles and pictures below to show where they're meant to go and progresses to full jigsaw puzzles.

Expressive Labels, in which the therapist holds up an item and asks its name. The student is to label the item. This progresses from Receptive Labels; the student is taught to say labels only once they are mastered in Receptive Labels.

Vocal Imitation, in which the therapist makes a sound after saying, "Do this." The student is to make the same sound. This begins with simple sounds and progresses to various combinations, until the student is imitating full words.

There are many other "programs" used in ABA programs, like Toy Play, Spelling, and Fine Motor. I have worked in a lot of ABA programs over the years, and I've worked through most of these programs.

Ten years.

That's a long time. I've had the privilege of working with many wonderful children over the years, and many amazing families to boot. The lengths to which these children's parents are willing to go, to provide their children with what they believe is the best possible educational option, is phenomenal.

And while I do not want to go back to the world of teaching autistic individuals to pretend they are normal, I do recognize the value of that initial training I received, ten years ago this weekend. It taught me how to teach. It taught me how to manage behaviour. A few years later, I was getting compliments from my fellow Sunday School teachers for how I managed my elementary students and dealt with the discipline - the other teachers were older than I, and parents. Just last year, I was able to manage a large group of writers as I headed up NaNoWriMo in Calgary.

My time as an ABA therapist has certainly come to a (welcome) end, but thanks to it, I learned how to give myself structure. I learned how to break things down into steps so that they are more manageable. I learned that it's okay to get help if you've never done something before. I learned that there is a progression to learning, and I learned how one thing builds upon the last until you have a strong foundation... and then a strong building.

This entry's icon was created by the author.

Edit:
In a comment elsewhere, I was asked what I think should be done with autistic children - leave them unable to communicate with friends, parents, or siblings?

Of course not! And any regular reader of this rather irregular blog should know that by now. :) Here is what I said in response:

Teach them. But not to pretend they're normal. Autistic people need to learn to deal with the world, not pretend they have no differences. In order of importance:

1. Communication (Effective, functional)
2. Sensory Processing Differences (Arousing, coping, calming)
3. Physical Health (Medical, dental, psychological)
4. Life Skills (Hygiene, cooking, cleaning, money)
5. Academics (Reading, writing, arithmetic)
6. Behaviour Management (May not be necessary, if the rest is done well)

ABA is about teaching autistic children to pretend they're normal. It's putting sub-par glossy paint over wood that really just needs a sanding and a coat of varnish. Eventually it bubbles and peels or chips away, and the end result is uglier than it was to start with.

(Also: why do so many people think that the alternative to teaching autistic children to pretend to be normal, or the alternative to ABA, is to not teach them anything at all?)

Respect, dignity, and rights.

re⋅spect /rɪˈspɛkt/ [ri-spekt]
–verb (used with object)

1. to hold in esteem or honor: I cannot respect a cheat.
2. to show regard or consideration for: to respect someone's rights.
3. to refrain from intruding upon or interfering with: to respect a person's privacy.
4. to relate or have reference to.
   

(courtesy of Dictionary.com)

dig⋅ni⋅ty /ˈdɪgnɪti/ [dig-ni-tee]
–noun, plural -ties.

1. bearing, conduct, or speech indicative of self-respect or appreciation of the formality or gravity of an occasion or situation.
2. nobility or elevation of character; worthiness: dignity of sentiments.
3. elevated rank, office, station, etc.
4. relative standing; rank.
5. a sign or token of respect: an impertinent question unworthy of the dignity of an answer.

(courtesy of Dictionary.com)

right /raɪt/ [rahyt]
–noun

1. a just claim or title, whether legal, prescriptive, or moral: You have a right to say what you please.
2. Sometimes, rights. that which is due to anyone by just claim, legal guarantees, moral principles, etc.: women's rights; Freedom of speech is a right of all Americans.
3. adherence or obedience to moral and legal principles and authority.
4. that which is morally, legally, or ethically proper: to know right from wrong.
5. a moral, ethical, or legal principle considered as an underlying cause of truth, justice, morality, or ethics.
   

(courtesy of Dictionary.com)

In the comments to this post, I found several references to all those poor autistic adults who are stuck in institutions because they weren't given ABA and never recovered, so they simply are incapable of higher-level cognition or any form of independence and need to have their lives dictated by non-autistic people, who of course know better than the autistic people what is best.

Many people have written elsewhere about institutions, and these people have personal experience with them, so I won't address that specifically (I would link to those posts, but can't find them right now; please feel free to share in the comments). What this post is about is the attitude of non-disabled people toward individuals with disabilities.

Basically, the attitude can be boiled down to "I'm worth more than someone who has a disability, because I am not disabled." This lack of respect for others leads to the removal of dignity and the stripping of rights of individuals with disabilities.

Let's be clear here: a person is worthwhile because he or she is a person and is alive. I don't care if the person can't communicate anything more than basic emotions and is unable to perform any personal care tasks (e.g., A, who I wrote about here), is able to speak in complete sentences but has mobility difficulties (e.g., J, who I wrote about here), or is able to pass as completely non-disabled in their everyday life and is able to perform most necessary day-to-day tasks without support (e.g., my friend DJ, who blogs here). There is a certain intrinsic worth to every human life, and we stand to learn something from everybody, no matter their cognitive abilities.

All people are capable of some level of understanding. Organizations that provide services to individuals with disabilities often create "plain language" versions of their literature, to give individuals with cognitive delays (or even English as a second language) a better chance at understanding it. Some organizations I know of in Alberta have gone so far as to help the individuals they serve create videos that make processes clearer for everyone. (Please note: these video projects are done at the behest of the individuals receiving service, so nobody is being exploited.)

Respecting a person means preserving their dignity and enforcing their rights. It means understanding that their opinions about things might be different. It means allowing them to speak out, even if what they say is disturbing on some level. It means granting privacy. These principles are important for everyone, by the way, not just individuals with disabilities. We need to learn to respect everyone in our lives.

Arguing for respect does not deny the difficulties many people face as a result of their disabilities. I would say that A, the woman I mentioned earlier, is the most severely disabled person I have ever met. Yet she lives as full a life as possible, in her mother's home. She has friends as well as staff, and I got to see video of her birthday party the day I met her family. She couldn't open her presents, but a niece did so for her, and she smiled throughout the process - an indication that she understood that these things were for her, and that she liked them. Indeed, clothing was obviously chosen with care and attention to things like A's favourite colour and what is popular right now for young women in their twenties. A will probably never be able to say words, and she will probably never type blog posts. But she is cared for and about, and her needs and desires are considered carefully by those around her. That is respect.

There is more I would like to say here, but this will suffice for now; my own disability is causing my writing to become more disjointed than I would like. Eventually I will find the words and put them up for all to see.

This post's icon was created by the author.

New e-zine.

In 2005, I had an idea for a magazine.

Well, it took a while, but there is finally a web site up and I am hoping to have an issue out in October. Autisticonnections is going to include writing and artwork by individuals with autism, autism-related disorders, and other neurological disorders like ADHD. We will have poetry, fiction, and personal essays, and hopefully a few proper articles, as well. None of the contributors will be neurotypical, if at all possible.

Please check out the web site at http://autisticonnections.org. I would love some volunteers to help me out with this project, and of course I need contributors!

Ableism is bigotry and discrimination at its worst.

One of my dear friends, J, has cerebral palsy and fibromyalgia. As a result, she has mobility issues that she handles quite nicely with her service dog and wheelchair. She is sometimes able to navigate without either, but as a general rule she prefers to bring her dog to help her get around. This dog was trained by her and is incredibly well-behaved. He wears a vest when he's working, so you know when you can't pet him. The two of them do presentations about disabilities and service dogs for schools and organizations.

J and I met via NaNoWriMo, that writing contest I do every November (you know, where I have to write 50,000 words in 30 days). As you may or may not be aware, I was the regional coordinator (ML) for Calgary from 2005 until 2008. (I may choose to take up the mantle for Saskatoon, but that's beside the point.) I take my ML duties very seriously, and always did my best to ensure that the locations I booked for meets were accessible for individuals with disabilities who used wheelchairs as well as for anyone who had to rely on public transit to get where they were going. J brought her dog along to the first meet she came to, and it was a complete non-issue. There were nearly 50 people in our party, and the place was busy, but he was great and lay under the table and didn't disturb anybody. He behaved the same way at every other meet she brought him to. The one time J used her wheelchair, it was cumbersome and unwieldly, and there were a lot more issues getting her where she needed to be.

This weekend is the birthday of J's mother-in-law. There is much drama surrounding whether or not the dog is to come to the birthday dinner, which is being held at a restaurant he has been to many times in the past.

J's sister-in-law asked if they could leave the dog behind, purportedly because when she told her mother that the dog would be there, her mother sounded "sad." She says that J should just use her wheelchair.

There are many reasons why the chair is not an option, the main one being that J uses botox injections to loosen up her leg muscles, and at this point in the botox cycle she is in pain a lot of the time. The chair exacerbates this pain. That alone is reason enough to forgo the chair and bring the dog instead. In addition to being more difficult to maneouvre, the chair will draw more attention than the dog, and it limits J's independence. Given the fact that Aids to Daily Living are meant to increase the independence of individuals with disabilities, it should be fairly obvious that the dog is a better choice, period.

Except, apparently, the mother's feelings about this matter trump the many reasons why the dog should come. According to the sister, the dog should not be an option because her mother should be happy on her birthday, and because the mother sounded sad on the phone, the dog's presence would make her unhappy, and that is all that matters.

Unfortunately for J's in-laws, one person's happiness does not trump someone else's right to be as pain-free and independent as possible, especially when the methods to be employed break no laws and put nobody in physical danger.

Here is how I put it on Facebook (names have been altered):

There is absolutely no reason why [the dog] should be left at home.

It is discriminatory to try to mandate what Aids to Daily Living (ADL) an individual with a disability can and cannot use. The point of ADL is to INCREASE INDEPENDENCE.

[The dog] is a better option than the chair because the dog increases independence much more than the chair does. I have seen both in action, and the chair is much more difficult to deal with.

I have never even THOUGHT about asking that [the dog] be left behind for events that I have run, because it would be discriminatory to do so. Accommodation means booking the event in a place where individuals with disabilities will be comfortable and that is easy to access for those with mobility problems.

The chair causes pain, as well, which is important to consider. I don't think someone's emotional comfort is more important than the physical comfort of someone else, especially if the person who will be in physical pain is already dealing with constant pain anyway. What kind of a person would expect or even ASK that of somebody? Seriously?!?

Accepting somebody means accepting their disability, as well. This means accepting the different ways they cope with their disability. Some people with ADHD take medication, others do not. Some blind people use guide dogs, others use a cane. Some deaf people communicate using speech, some use sign language. Some people with mobility problems use a service dog, some use a wheelchair, some use a scooter, some use a walker, some use a cane. Some people with epilepsy have a service animal that alerts them to seizures, some don't. There are a lot of different ways to deal with disabilities, and only the person who actually has the disability knows what is best for their particular problems.

Someone needs to ask C's mother why she doesn't want the dog there. Sparing her feelings is a ridiculous excuse for not doing so. So far, all of this discussion and drama is taking place without her input, and that is not right. So somebody ask her. Then maybe there'll be some light shed on the situation, and a properly informed decision can be made.

In short, your closed-mindedness should not be J's problem, and if she and C choose to attend this dinner, I really hope they bring [the dog] along, because that is what is best for J and her disability.

The response from the sister was to completely ignore all points and focus in on her mother's happiness on her birthday. To which I replied as follows (names modified):

Wow, B, did you even read everything I wrote?

Yes, a person's happiness on their birthday matters.

However, the RIGHT of a person to be INDEPENDENT trumps the happiness of another person. [The dog] helps J to be more independent than the chair does.

Also, the RIGHT of a person to be as FREE OF PHYSICAL PAIN AS POSSIBLE trumps the happiness of another person. [The dog] is a less painful option for J right now.

Have you asked your mother what she thinks yet? Cuz if you haven't, you really should.

No, my opinion doesn't affect the situation. I never thought it would. However, it would be an incredibly Good Thing if you took a moment to actually LISTEN to those of us who deal with disabilities on a daily basis.

This is ableism, pure and simple. C's family (J's in-laws) is assuming that J can choose which mobility aid to use based on the convenience of others, and this is simply not true. While those of us who are mobile have the freedom to choose between walking, running, riding a bike, and any number of other choices, J hasn't got those choices. If she's going to get somewhere, she often needs the dog or her wheelchair. I think she does sometimes use another mobility aid, like a cane of some kind, but I have not seen her use it. I have, however, seen the dog in action, and I think he is probably the best option most of the time.

The extent of the sister's bigotry, by the way, is seen in her assertion that if J were blind and used a guide dog she would still ask that the dog be left at home. I can understand, to some extent, asking that a service dog be left behind, since they are less common and not as well understood as guide dogs. But to ask any individuals with a disability to change his or her accommodations to suit your sensibilities is outrageous. (And we know it's not allergies because C grew up with dogs in her home. This is something directed entirely at J and her service dog and seems to be something to do with disabilities in general.)

As J has put it, the dog is a part of her. Accepting J means accepting the dog. That's all there is to it.

To sum up, let me give the response Brad Bill offered over on Facebook (again, names have been altered):

The long and the short of all this seems to be that B has fallen on the wrong side of this issue. And the bigger problem is that --even if she knows it-- there's no graceful way for her to climb down and admit she's at fault.

As was said earlier, a person's right to be comfortable and largely pain-free will always be more important than someone else's perceived "comfort" or "happiness" --even on her birthday.

We do live in a free country, so B is perfectly entitled to think/feel whatever she likes, but anybody with a shred of wisdom and compassion and decency will know better.

Sad.

Sad it truly, truly is.

Detriment of the child?

I now have confirmation that the Canadian Union of Public Employees (CUPE) 748, in BC, is planning to remove the "detriment of the child" clause from its collective agreement with the school district(s) it serves. This clause ensures that no changes are made to the staffing for a child with a disability if that disability is one that requires consistency in said staffing (i.e., children with severe disabilities that require specialized supports in order to be included in their school settings; such support positions typically pay more than others).

To make things more clear, what this means is that special education aides (SEAs) in the union will no longer have any job security whatsoever, unless they're lucky enough to have the seniority required to let them pick and choose the plum assignments. While education and experience will likely still have a bearing on the hiring decisions, gone will be the days of a child retaining his or her aide throughout several years of his or her education. Retaining an SEA is important, mainly for continuity of care and security of the child. It also means that precious time is not lost at the beginning of the school year, as the SEA and the child get to know one another. When a change is made, the new hire needs to be introduced before the end of the prior school year, and the old aide needs to train the new one, gradually stepping back until he or she is completely out of the picture.

Without the "detriment of the child" clause in place, the schools will not be able to take into account the wishes of the children or families they serve. No, they will, instead, be required to allow 60yo Anne, who's been a secretary for the last 20 years, be an SEA for Billy, an 8yo autistic child, because she's taken a couple of courses in being an SEA and has seniority over Elizabeth, who is 24yo, has been working with autistic children for the last five years, and has been Billy's SEA for the last two. (Please note: None of these people are real. I made them up. It could happen, though, and that's the scary thing.)

I hate unions. Let's be clear on that right now. I think unions are, by and large, a huge waste of time. They are still necessary in some industries (e.g., mining), but overall they cause more headaches than they solve. Unions benefit the people at the top and screw over the people at the bottom. No different from the rest of society, I suppose. Part of the reason so many people in the automobile production industry got laid off was that the union refused to renegotiate wages. So, since the companies had to cut costs somewhere, they had to fire a bunch of good workers because they couldn't afford to pay them anymore. That's how messed up unions are.

Now, let's look at how unions (at least in Canada) work for the schools. What we have is a teacher's union and a support staff union. In the teacher's union, we find - well - teachers. In the support staff union, we find secretaries, bus drivers, janitors, librarians, and SEAs, to name a few.

What's the problem here?

The problem is that SEAs work directly with children and enhance their learning. Without the SEA, the child often can't attend school. This is very different from the other occupations included in their union - these occupations do not work directly with the children, and their presence does not make or break the children's education.

Real life example of how completely screwed up this system is:

A couple of years ago, the teachers in Calgary went on strike. Okay, that's the way it goes. All the children stayed home from school, because there were no teachers, so no education for any of them. Eventually, the union and the school board got things sorted out, and everyone went back to school.

Then the support staff union (CUPE) went on strike. The difference here was that all the kids still went to school. Except the kids who needed SEAs.

This is not equal opportunity education. It is not equality. It is discrimination.

If there must be unions, the SEAs should be in the same union as the teachers, or they should have their own separate union.

Children shouldn't be denied an adequate education simply because some people at the top of CUPE want to make a buck.

I can't escape it.

I'm not totally sure I want to, anyway.

I walked over to Tim Horton's this afternoon. This is a daily occurrence; it takes about 15 minutes to get there, I have a mocha and read my current novel, and then I walk home (or, today, to the library). It's a good walk, I go quickly, and I get in my cardio for the day.

I went too late in the afternoon today, though; I'm still experimenting with when is good - this location is pretty busy, and I sometimes have trouble finding a place to sit. So I ordered my drink and looked around for somewhere to sit.

The 4yo girl was blonde and very cute. She was sitting in a high chair at a table with her mother and (I assume) grandmother. I took the table next to them, and the child and I exchanged looks. I smiled, since I'm friendly and like children, and she smiled back. Then she started turning quickly and gasping at me, so I responded appropriately to her overtures; apparently this was the way to go, as she started tipping her head back to look at me upside-down. I responded by turning my head so we were both upside-down.

This did not go unnoticed by the adults in the child's life. I was informed that this little pixie is "actually very shy." (Not the first time that a child behaves toward me as if I were an old friend right from the start!) Her mother told her to ask me my name. She did so, and we embarked upon a 15-minute friendship. The child's voice was very quiet, and I had to lean in close to hear her when she spoke to me. It didn't help that I kept getting distracted by her adults' conversation.

It sounded like the little girl's older brother was having trouble at school. There were changes being made to how he was being dealt with. When he tantrums, he is put into a time out room (adjacent to the classroom), and the class is now being vacated because he makes so much noise that the others in the class can't get any work done, anyway. Classic situation for an autistic child, don't you think?

I held my tongue, though I desperately wanted to ask them if there'd been a Functional Behaviour Assessment done, and if the triggers for these meltdowns had been identified. It sounds to me like the boy's school is reacting instead of being proactive.

But I said nothing, because I am a stranger - not just to this little family, but to the city. There is no reason for anyone to listen to me.

Except that I care.

Next time, I think I'll speak up.