* SJ-R…

Layoffs have begun for the Springfield branch of The Autism Program after Gov. Bruce Rauner cut its funding.

The governor announced the freeze of $26 million in state grants in a letter to social service agencies April 3. The move is part of an attempt to plug a $1.6 billion budget hole for the current fiscal year.

Russell Bonanno, the state director of the TAP Network, said Thursday that five professionals have already been let go by the program. Another two are facing cuts in both hours and salary, he said.

The Springfield branch has already eliminated nonclinical services, such as training and consultation for parents. The organization also is reviewing clinical services to decide if any need to be ended.

Bonanno said without money right now, it’s unlikely TAP will be able to reinstate its services in the near future.

* My friend Toni Gauen watched yesterday’s press conference by autism program advocates and then posted this on her Facebook page. It’s today’s must-read…

Imagine your everyday with no limits. Daring to face each challenge with excitement and vigor. Refusing to be your own stumbling block. Never ending your day with “done.” Always pushing the finish line forward.

What then would our world be like? Sounds like it would be a super human kind of world wouldn’t it?

I think about this often. Not only for the challenges I’ve chosen to face in my life. But more so when I consider the challenges my son and others with disabilities have to face every day to achieve the same level of “normal” we take for granted. It’s easy to overlook the strength of will and effort he and others have had to exert. Especially when their efforts have been successful.

Most know this..but for those who don’t, my son has autism. It’s mild. He is high functioning. And his diagnoses has evolved over the years. But he has been in therapies since he was three. His vocabulary was significantly limited. He didn’t “mimic.” He didn’t make eye contact. He had melt downs. He couldn’t tolerate loud noises, tastes, textures, even a hug at times. But he could create intricate patterns, recognize shapes, line up objects etc.

We started out with at home speech therapy, occupational therapy and a family/social therapists to help me and him interact in a way that wouldn’t result in a melt down. He stayed with various therapists as he progressed and his needs changed. He was in small-early childhood classes with other kids with disabilities. He rode “the short bus” to school. I cringe when I hear the use of that term in a derogatory way. I loved that short bus. It meant my son was going to see people who could help him in ways I could not. It meant I could hope for a better future for him.

After a while he was able to be integrated with other kids without disabilities. He has had an IEP, Individual Educational Plan, all through the school years. I’ve had to fight almost every year to keep it and to enforce it. Budget cuts are always threatening the programs that help. He is a number. A figure in a budget. And his disabilities are not as understood as others that are more physically apparent. And also because these therapies and interventions have worked! He IS a success story! Most people who have met him can’t perceive anything different about him than any other kid. He has an IQ in the “very superior” range. But he has had to work very hard to reach his potential and to get to this point in his social skills where he can be accepted by peers and even society as “normal.” It does not come naturally to him.

So everyday he faces challenges. He had to be taught that words are not always literal. He had to be taught socially acceptable behavior. He had to be taught to interpret facial and body language. He had to be taught that people lie. All these things and more he has had to learn through repetition and therapies. And he continues to draw upon those therapies to be able to function in a world that is foreign for him.

As he gets older there are new challenges he must face. We all do. But it’s different for him and others with these disabilities. They aren’t cured. It’s still there. They have just learned to cope. They’ve learned to act against what their natural inclination is.

Literally, they are facing each day tearing down their limits. Daring to face each challenge. Refusing to be their own stumbling block. Never ending their day with “done” because their disability will never go away. Their finish line will always be pushed forward. Kind of like a super human don’t you think?

I’m lucky. My son is 16 and is already a super human He has been through all those programs that made it possible for him to overcome. And his disability is relatively mild in comparison to what others have to work through. Yet right now the programs that have made all this possible are being cut.

It’s not just a number. It’s not just a figure. It’s hope. The programs that are being cut are what make it possible for these kids to thrive. These kids are already facing huge challenges. They are already working each day to overcome obstacles that most of us never have to face. And the programs that help them do this, that give them the tools they need to function in our world, are being taken away.

We hear about the cuts to programs but we don’t really understand what it means. For people with disabilities, and specifically autism, it means imagining everyday always pushing the finish line forward but with even more stumbling blocks in the way, more challenges to hinder, limits without hope to overcome and a future that won’t be realized.

Think about this.

* Related…

* Cuts take aim at Alzheimer and dementia patients