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    Rising Up
    Rising Up
    Rising Up
    Ebook62 pages51 minutes

    Rising Up

    By Ian M Weller

    ()

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    About this ebook

    This is the story of Ian Weller.  It starts at the educational diagnosis in elementary school and spans to close to the present day.  It's a rollercoaster ride of a journey.  It tells of his time in the public school system in Northern Michigan to being his

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherIan Weller Inc
    Release dateFeb 27, 2023
    ISBN9798218163655
    Rising Up
    Author

    Ian M Weller

    Ian Weller was diagnosed with Autism Spectrum Disorder at age 2. Experts in the 90s said he wouldn't get past middle school and suggested a list of special education schools to his parents. His parents refused to listen to the "experts" advise and worked to give him the help he would need to succeed. He has surpassed all original expectations. He graduated from the public school system in Northern Michigan taking General Education courses with an average GPA. He went on to go to college and graduated with an Associate Degree and a Certificate of Development in New Media. He has also been inducted into Charlevoix Public Schools Alumni Hall of Fame for working with the Autism Community of North Western Michigan. He may not give himself the credit he may deserve for all he has accomplished. He feels he did what was demanded of him (by his own standards) and what he felt was right.

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      Book preview

      Rising Up - Ian M Weller

      Chapter 1

      The year was 1998 and I just started 4th grade.  I was in a meeting with a group of people.  Unknown to me at the time it was a school examination.  My father was there, and some of the staff from the elementary school I attended.  We sat at a round table and the mediator of this meeting was a psychiatric therapist named Dr. O.  

      I answered some questions and was excused to go to the corner to play my Gameboy.  I wasn’t paying attention to what they were saying.  I was too immersed in my game.  Eventually I was called back into the group.  I paused my game and returned to the table.  Everyone was looking at me.  I was oblivious to what was going on at the time.  

      Dr. O looked me in the eye and said, You have Asperger’s Syndrome.  I had no idea what she meant at that time.  Now, I realize, it was the signal that my life was soon to become more challenging.  

      I was naive then.  Academically bright, but very naive.  I didn’t understand anything of what was going on around me.  From that year when I entered fourth grade to the elementary school graduation at the end of fifth grade, I knew very little of anything outside of what was taught in school at the time. Everything I knew at the time was either taught to me by my parents or teachers I had. There was the occasional insight that came in from a place I can’t recall.

      After going through half of sixth grade, things started to change for me.  My perspective changed; I matured beyond my age in understanding.  Then the hard part began.  The first school year of the new millennium, fall 2001, was when I started to pay a price for receiving my mental maturity at least five years before everyone else my age.  

      September 11th was a dark day for the United States of America.  I was sitting in my seventh grade history class.  My middle school principal, Mr. H, poked his head in the room and said, We’ve been attacked.  Before I could say anything, he was gone.  I didn’t know what happened until I got home and my family talked about it.

      The next day I was in my home room when Principle H activated the intercom system.  

      Attention students, this morning we will be walking to the funeral home to attend a ceremony for those who died during the attack yesterday.  Get your coats.

      I stood from my desk and walked to the door.  I didn’t understand much about the attack then.  I didn’t know the situation, or how many lives were lost that day.

      I quickly opened my locker, put my coat on, and was the first to walk out the middle school doors with the rest of the students and staff several feet behind me. Most of the students took their time socializing among other things. I was task oriented, as I interpreted the announcement was Get your coat, then get to the funeral home. Everything was black and white to me. Striding briskly, I walked down Mason Street heading toward Downtown Charlevoix which was the direction of the funeral home from the middle school at that time.

      As the lawn came into view, I saw a small group of people there already along with two uniformed military personnel raising the flag to the top of the flagpole, then lowering it to half-mast.  Behind me I heard the chatter of the other students.  I took my place on the lawn around the flagpole.  

      Even though I didn’t understand it all, I knew how ceremonies like this worked.  You bowed your head and stayed silent unless you were given permission to talk.  That was the way I understood it.  That was the way I was taught. I have been to a couple funerals before that day. My parents told me to be quiet at such ceremonies.  Knowing this, I stood silent as others gathered around the flagpole.  

      Part way through the ceremony, we were asked for a moment of silence.  As the moment started, I heard two people jabbering

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