"In her 2006 memoir Strange Son, Portia Iversen coined the phrase "intact mind" to describe the typical cognitive abilities she believed were buried within even the most seemingly impaired autistic individuals, like her son Dov - who, at nine years old, was completely nonverbal and spent much of his time "chewing on blocks and tapping stones." Although he didn't know the alphabet, colors, or numbers; although he "could hardly point or nod his head to show what he meant"; although doctors had diagnosed Dov as "retarded" and told Iversen she "shouldn't wreck [her] marriage and destroy [her] other children's lives for his sake, when doing so was utterly and completely useless" - although all these things were true about her son, Iversen still imagined him "falling down a deep well, believed to be dead. And then years later, a light shone down that dark shaft and I could see him there, somehow still alive" (emphasis in original)"--

In this collection of beautiful and raw essays, Amy S. F. Lutz writes openly about her experience—the positive and the negative—as a mother of a now twenty-one-year-old son with severe autism. Lutz's human emotion drives through each page and challenges commonly held ideas that define autism either as a disease or as neurodiversity. We Walk is inspired by her own questions: What is the place of intellectually and developmentally disabled people in society? What responsibilities do we, as citizens and human beings, have to one another? Who should decide for those who cannot decide for themselves? What is the meaning of religion to someone with no abstract language? Exploring these questions, We Walk directly—and humanly—examines social issues such as inclusion, religion, therapeutics, and friendship through the lens of severe autism. In a world where public perception of autism is largely shaped by the "quirky geniuses" featured on television shows like The Big Bang Theory and The Good Doctor, We Walk demands that we center our debates about this disorder on those who are most affected by its impacts.

In the fall of 2009, Amy Lutz and her husband, Andy, struggled with one of the worst decisions parents could possibly face: whether they could safely keep their autistic ten-year-old son, Jonah, at home any longer. Multiple medication trials, a long procession of behavior modification strategies, and even an almost year-long hospitalization had all failed to control his violent rages. Desperate to stop the attacks that endangered family members, caregivers, and even Jonah himself, Amy and Andy decided to try the controversial procedure of electroconvulsive therapy or ECT. Over the last three years, Jonah has received 136 treatments. His aggression has greatly diminished, and for the first time Jonah, now fourteen, is moving to a less restricted school. Each Day I Like It Better recounts the journeys of Jonah and seven other children and their families (interviewed by the author) in their quests for appropriate educational placements and therapeutic interventions. The author describes their varied, but mostly successful, experiences with ECT. A survey of research on pediatric ECT is incorporated into the narrative, and a foreword by child psychiatrist Dirk Dhossche and ECT researcher and practitioner Charles Kellner explains how ECT works, the side effects patients may experience, and its current use in the treatment of autism, catatonia, and violent behavior in children.

"In her 2006 memoir Strange Son, Portia Iversen coined the phrase "intact mind" to describe the typical cognitive abilities she believed were buried within even the most seemingly impaired autistic individuals, like her son Dov - who, at nine years old, was completely nonverbal and spent much of his time "chewing on blocks and tapping stones." Although he didn't know the alphabet, colors, or numbers; although he "could hardly point or nod his head to show what he meant"; although doctors had diagnosed Dov as "retarded" and told Iversen she "shouldn't wreck [her] marriage and destroy [her] other children's lives for his sake, when doing so was utterly and completely useless" - although all these things were true about her son, Iversen still imagined him "falling down a deep well, believed to be dead. And then years later, a light shone down that dark shaft and I could see him there, somehow still alive" (emphasis in original)"--

Gregory Bateson was a philosopher, anthropologist, photographer, naturalist, and poet, as well as the husband and collaborator of Margaret Mead. This classic anthology of his major work includes a new Foreword by his daughter, Mary Katherine Bateson. 5 line drawings.

"And I thought I knew this crazy-brave black boy who bolted out of a Harlem ghetto into a white prep school and bobbed and weaved his way across the treacherous divide between black and white America. But Dennis Watlington's life story is even more astonishing than I knew. He emerges a no-jive black integrationist who is proud of the slave ancestry that makes him a solid American foreperson." -Gail Sheehy, bestselling author of Passages and Understanding Men's Passages Chasing America is a rollercoaster ride through promise and poverty, affirmative action and addiction, and a powerful story that captures a life and an era that is seminally American. Born in Harlem in 1952, Dennis developed a heroin habit at the age of 14, kicked it, and received a scholarship to the Hotchkiss School where he was elected president of his class. He went on to NYU, became involved in film and theater (he had a small role in The Deerhunter and gave Bruce Willis his start in a play called Bullpen), got addicted to crack, kicked that, and became an Emmy winning television writer. Chasing America shows us the best and worst that America offers to a Black man--from the Jim Crow South to boarding school life in New England to backstage at the Fillmore East to a holding cell in Bellevue Hospital. Part Ellison, part Exley, Chasing America is an amazing story.