Moving Mountains – My AGM Experience
I walked into Autism Alberta's Annual General Meeting feeling lower than low, discouraged; my bucket was empty. Three children, 17 loads of laundry, a van covered in Rice Krispies, and having only 24 hours to prepare for a mini-lake vacation will do that to you. Five hours is a great deal of time for anyone to dedicate and commit to a meeting, but wow, what a five hours it was. Everyone there had their own 17 loads of laundry and cereal covered minivan waiting for them, but they volunteered their time, showed up, and shared! I walked away from the AGM feeling completely inspired by the twenty people from across Alberta who were in attendance at the table and over the phone.
Thank you for the inspiration, my autism community friends. We in Red Deer are ready for another amazing year of working together with Autism Society Alberta to move some mountains.
Autism Alberta’s Annual General Meeting
10:00 AM – 3:00 PM
Board Room
GH Dawe Centre
56 Holt St
Red Deer, Alberta
RSVP to info@autismalberta.ca
by 4:00 PM, Thursday, August 24, 2017
Child Care is available, but please let us know your needs by the RSVP deadline of 4:00 PM on August 24.
Summertime!
Who Will Take Care of Our Kids (When We No Longer Can)? – Part 3
Programs using the host family model (also known by the name of home share or supportive family) are well-established in British Columbia and Ontario, but less so in Alberta. In this model, an unrelated family agrees to provide housing and support for the individual with disability for a specified amount of time. The hope is that the host family model is mutually beneficial, as the host family has a rewarding experience and the individual with disability is able to develop stable long-term relationships and initiate positive new experiences that are comfortable, interesting and enjoyable. In British Columbia and Ontario the host family program is a government-funded initiative that helps partner agencies match pre-screened host families with an individual with a developmental disability. In Alberta there is no official government structure for this model, but there are instances where families have used the similar supportive family model. In terms of sustainability there are some drawbacks to a host family model to consider. One in particular is the situation where the host family is no longer able to provide support, at which point the individual, government support worker or aging parent must then find another matched family.
– Stakeholder Quote
– Stakeholder Quote
– Stakeholder Quote
Bringing Henson Trusts to Alberta
MLA Brian Malkinson
This fall, MLA Brian Malkinson (Calgary-Currie) will have an opportunity to present a Private Member’s bill at the Legislature around establishing a Henson Trust in Alberta. This is an important issue for those with developmental disabilities and caregivers who wish to ensure their loved ones are taken care of after the caregiver has passed away.
The first stages of consultation have already been completed in Edmonton, Calgary and Lethbridge. Medicine Hat will also have a consultation on July 26th. The Phase II Consultation will be held in Edmonton on August 1st, 2017.
Presented by: Mr. Brian Malkinson, Calgary-Currie
Medicine Hat College, Crowfoot Room, F160, 299 College Drive
Wednesday, July 26, 2017, 1:00pm to 3:00pm
Federal Building, Capital Room
9820 107 St NW
Tuesday, August 1, 2017, 10:00 am – 12:00 pm
Please let the Calgary Currie Constituency office know if you can attend with the names of the attendees, any special requirements or requests, and the names and contacts of any other people you might suggest we send an invitation to. Feel free to spread the word.
It is important to RSVP in order to ensure there is adequate space.
Calgary.currie@assembly.ab.ca
403-246-4794
Recalculating
Alex was born happy, advanced in her milestones. Brilliant parent that I am, I had her educational savings account opened immediately, because she was destined to surpass us all. Wrong - completely wrong destination. At the age of three she had a sudden febrile convulsion due to an ear infection, which developed into her first extended status seizure. She went to the hospital as one child with an apparent destiny, and came home permanently brain injured. That sparkly destiny evaporated into the atmosphere like the droplets of rain on a blazingly hot summer day. No time to grieve – it was time to recalculate the destiny.
The brain injury left her with life-threatening status seizures, severe behavioural issues, damaged motor functions, developmental delays, “perseverant thoughts”, and she was now on the autism spectrum. She was out of control behaviourally. She would bite people, kick holes in walls, lie in the middle of the road when out for a walk, and engage in kamikaze power struggles no one could be prepared for, because these new rules were alien to us.
Eventually, we hit on behaviour management strategies which led to some small advances. It was like having to relearn everything after a stroke. We had no time to address things like autism or OCD or anxiety. It was all about severe behaviour and trying to teach her functional things, like the idea that stabbing her classmate in the leg with a sharp pencil may not be the best way to obtain their attention, or that grabbing the bus driver in a bear hug around her neck while driving was dangerous. She was fearless, she was indecipherable, and her behaviours isolated us. And every time she had another status seizure, we started over from scratch.
At the age of six, her doctor put her on anti-seizure medications that halted the seizures. Great, now could we make some progress? Nope. “Perseverant thoughts” exploded into severe Obsessive Compulsive Disorder when she hit puberty – unfairly delivered at the age of eight. Her compulsions were so severe she would do anything, including hurting people, if necessary, to satisfy these overwhelming urges.
New meds were prescribed at twelve. All of a sudden, the severe behavior evaporated in the same way the sparkly destiny had evaporated. And with all this other stuff under control, Alex finally started learning. She earned awards, made friends, and learned to read and count well enough to play a competitive card game she was passionate about. She had goals, dreams and a future. She wanted to have a job and earn money like adults do, and she volunteered and belonged to two leagues. She pushed her social skills, took classes, worked on hundreds of applications. When she finally added two part-time jobs to her life, she was indescribably happy. She didn’t understand money, so it wasn’t about that. It was about having value and a purpose. She had independence to the point where she could safely come home alone, tend to her own needs, entertain herself, plan her next deck for the Pokémon League, and indulge in her passions. We planned for her to own her home to share with roommates of her choice. There were savings, investments and trusts established to guarantee she could live in the community, because that’s what she wanted.
But out of nowhere, as we were getting ready for Pokémon league on a Saturday in June, 2014 – our typical Saturday activity – Alex suddenly grabbed her ears, face scrunched in pain. People were literally screaming from inside her head. Out of nowhere, without explanation, psychosis erupted. An unwelcome intruder: “The Thief”.
Continued next month
We Want to Hear From You!
More About RDSPs
The last article I wrote was about the Disability Tax Credit. I hope it was useful for some. The next thing I'd like to talk about is the Registered Disability Savings Plan. In order to qualify for an RDSP, one first needs to qualify for the Disability Tax Credit (DTC). Once you receive approval for your DTC, you are entitled to set up an RDSP. The RDSP has a few benefits, the largest of which is the grants and bonds that the federal government will put into the RDSP on the beneficiary's behalf. The amount provided is based on income, but it is still beneficial to those in all income brackets. In order to receive the grants and bonds, the beneficiary needs to be 49 years of age or younger, and the government will stop making contributions the year the beneficiary turns 49.
It's also important to understand that this is a program designed for savings for the future, and is not meant for the short-term costs of managing the disability. Once the grants and bonds have stopped being deposited, one must wait a full 10 years before any withdrawals to avoid penalty. If even $1 is withdrawn before that time, all grants and bonds that were paid into the plan must be repaid, so it is certainly to your benefit to leave it alone. You can, however, invest that money into things like stocks and bonds, mutual funds or term deposits in the meantime.
The RDSP may not help cover short-term expenses, but planning for the future is important too. Based on a person's income, the government will deposit up to $1000 each year in the form of a bond (the Canada Disability Savings Bond). The amount of the bond depends on the annual income of the family and can reach a maximum of $20,000 over the lifetime of the beneficiary. There is also the Canada Disability Savings Grant, which could take a yearly contribution of $1500 and boost it by another $3500 up to a maximum of $70,000 over the beneficiary's lifetime.
The money that is put into the RDSP by the beneficiary or their family is not tax-deferred, so unlike RRSPs, they do not offer a tax benefit at the time of deposit. The money that the government deposits as well as any earnings from investment is also taxed, but is taxed at the time of withdrawal. This is rather complex, but a good financial advisor will walk you through how that process works. What people need to know is that the money will be there when their family no longer is.
The sooner the RDSP is set up, the more benefit it will provide. It is also worth noting that for people that are in receipt of AISH, this is considered an exempt asset (since you can't access it) and all payments from the RDSP, when the time comes, are also exempt. So, AISH will not claw back benefits as a result of an RDSP. And even though AISH has an asset limit of $100,000, individuals above the limit can put their additional assets into an RDSP and still qualify for AISH. For some, this could be reason to open an RDSP after the age of 49. For example, if the person with a disability were to inherit a substantial amount of money, that money could be placed into an RDSP and it would not have an effect on AISH benefits. And because no grants or bonds were paid into that RDSP, the beneficiary is then able to withdraw that money without any effect on their benefits with AISH.
I could go on and on about the RDSP, but in the interest of time and space, I will end there. Certainly there is a lot of information available about how this program works, but my goal today is just to make people aware that such a program does exist so they are able to take advantage of it.
BJ Clancy is the founder of the popular Disability Tax Credit and RDSP Facebook group. In this group, BJ and other volunteers can give you the information you need to successfully apply for both of these programs.
Becoming an independent adult with ASD involves a large skill set that needs to be planned out over the lifetime of your child. I recently posted an article on establishing clear guidelines around sexuality early on. Money management is no different. Being able to pay for items and stick to a budget is a barrier to successful independence. Many people – even those without autism – can’t manage finances or handle money responsibly, directly impacting their quality of life, and ability to live on their own.
Tip for success: make sure it is a store the child knows and feels comfortable in, preferably with a cashier that your child has already met. Choose a time when the store isn’t busy so that neither your child nor other shoppers get frustrated.
Introducing Aidan's Vlog
Aidan, a volunteer Office Assistant for Autism Calgary, has launched a video blog. In a series of episodes, he shares his thoughts on autism-related topics and introduces us to Autism Calgary's staff and their office. In one recent instalment, he talks about how people with autism are depicted in TV and movies, and how autism can sometimes be misrepresented in the media. To watch all of Aidan's vlog episodes, visit the Autism Calgary YouTube channel.
La Vie En Rose
Coloured glasses are an idiosyncrasy, an overt signal of flamboyant eccentricity. This more than suits my general temperament, my atypical habits. However, I must admit that the glasses did not start as a fashion statement, an intentional affectation, but as a medical intervention.
I began to read when I was about four years old. Early on, I developed a habit of reading in dim rooms and dark corners — a tendency that struck adults as odd. As I grew older, the headaches started, then the nausea, then the fatigue. The words in my books did not so much blur as they floated off the page and undulate like ocean waves. Fluorescent lights were a particular trial, their harsh buzzing light a constant attack on my nerves.
Now, looking back, I see the symptoms of sensory sensitivity and consequent neurological exhaustion. The world was too bright, too noisy, too rough for me to cope. My behaviour became avoidant — a pattern of hiding away from all that was sharp and draining and painful. The range of what I could experience without feeling constantly under siege or retreating to the quiet, the dark, the solitary.
As a teenager I began to carry earplugs. Not to use all the time, just when it all became overwhelming, disorienting as a crashing wave. As an adult, I wear headphones for a similar reason — a barrier between me and the discordant cacophony of everyday life. My glasses began as a simple prosthetic – I am nearsighted, after all. It was only later that I had them tinted in a colour a specialist told me would help my migraines. A colour that didn’t hide my eyes, but blocked out enough light that I could sit in a well-lit room for a few hours without any pain.
Now when I step onto a noisy, crowded bus, I do so in my own peculiar suit of armor: soft clothes, headphones, and a set of coloured spectacles. The way I dress, the way I walk, is to give an aura of the untouchable, to discourage contact. It allows me a level of freedom, of independence, that I would have never dared a decade ago. It may seem strange, but building up barriers, both in terms of tolerance and tools, is what allowed me to interact with people, to brave loud bars and thick crowds, to walk the world in serenity.
One could argue that my tinted glasses are a crutch, that I am relying on a tool rather than my own strength. That, of course, is entirely correct, but allow me a moment of pedantry. In a non-idiomatic sense, crutches are used to avoid exacerbating damage to an injured limb, to build strength without moving too far, too fast and hurting yourself again. They are likewise used by people with chronic disabilities to accommodate weaknesses that will only be exacerbated by strain without losing their independence.
It’s okay to use crutches. To accept that you need help that your body and your mind can’t provide on their own. I can’t build the strength and the skills I need sitting by myself in the quiet dark, nor can I do so by trying to withstand the pressure until I snap beneath the weight of it all.
My crutches, my prosthetics, allow me a level of control, a middle ground between anxiety and isolation. There is no shame in using a crutch when you need it.