Crafting the Koldtbord
There are many ways to begin a blog post…
For instance, I could start with a Sondheim lyric from Sunday in the Park with George, a musical about the artistic process.
If I went down this path, I could start with the obvious, the opening line from the song “Putting it Together”:
“Bit by bit, putting it together
Piece by piece, only way to make a work of art
Every moment makes a contribution
Every little detail plays a part
Having just a vision’s no solution
Everything depends on execution
Putting it together!”
Or…
I could pick something more obscure, like a verse from “I Know Things Now” from Into the Woods and share that I have played the role of Little Red Riding Hood not once, but twice. If I did that, I could show you pictures from those productions and share them with the lyrics:
“And though scary is exciting
Nice is different than good
Now I know: Don’t be scared
Granny is right, Just be prepared
Isn’t it nice to know a lot!
And a little bit not.”
Woodzick as Little Red Riding Hood in two productions of Into the Woods
Or…
Maybe something from West Side Story, I could share with you that I would watch that film on a loop for hours in my grandparent’s library:
“Could it be? Yes, it could
Somethin’s comin’, somethin’ good, if I can wait
Somethin’s comin’, I don’t know what it is
But it is gonna be great.”
Rita Moreno as Anita in West Side Story.
Or maybe something from Company and that way I could tell you about how I once sat in the audience next to someone who told stories about how lovely Steve was and how his special interest was board games and he had an entire room full of board games and his friend, the man I sat next to, would scour thrift stores all year long, collecting obscure board games to send in a Christmas care package…
Or, or, or…
Maybe the introduction should be about trains…everyone associates autistic folx with trains, right?
“Rock Island” performed by the Asolo Rep
I could tell you that I requested the libretto of The Music Man when I was eight or nine, before there was internet (gasp), for the purpose of learning the lyrics to the opening song, “Rock Island,” where the salesman are riding on a train and exclaiming words that sound like train sounds (that’s onomatopoeia for you vocab lovers in the back.) I could tell you about how I brought every chair from the entire house into the living room to recreate the seats on the train and jumped from seat to seat when embodying the different salesman.
And I could bookend that memory with a more recent one of making this image in Procreate of RuPaul entering the Werk Room on the latest season of Drag Race in train conductor inspired couture, but then I would have to explain that the reason I made it is because RuPaul once tweeted support of the transgender community but accidentally posted the trains flag instead of the trans flag.
Or perhaps the best way to start this blog post is to write about how Islands of Brilliance Director of Advancement, Lindsay Sheridan, and I both attended Luther College in Decorah, Iowa. And that to attend Luther College in Decorah, Iowa is to become very familiar with Norwegian words and names like Vesterheim, Ylvisaker, and, of course, The Whippy Dip (IYKYK.)
The Norwegian Koldtbord
Which would bring us to food, which would lead us to the Norwegian koldtbord, which is where this blog post actually begins. (Because linear storytelling is not for everyone.) This is all to say that we are beginning this blog post in earnest in the middle.
But I share the other two possible paths to a beginning because autistic folx (like myself) often share personal stories to create meaning and show that we are finding a resonance from an experience from our own lives to relate to the topic at hand.
A typical Norwegian koldtbord
And the topic at hand is the launch of the newest Islands of Brilliance program, The Fellowship. Let me tell you why this launch is inextricably linked to koldtbord, which is a essentially a Scandinavian version of a charcuterie board, which is also known as a fancy Lunchable, which is also known as the original “girl dinner.”
I am autistic, but I didn’t know that about myself until four years ago. This is why it is meaningful beyond words for me to be part of bringing creative programming to autistic youth and young adults around the state. To launch a program in Tomahawk, the small town in the Northwoods where my dad was born.
Let’s lean into the koldtbord metaphor: The Fellowship is the sturdy, wooden board that supports the delicious variety of ingredients. These ingredients include the IOB staff, our Brilliant Fellows, and the participants we are inviting to partake of and contribute to the koldtbord.
Part of IOB culture, as I’ve come to learn in the last few months, is to emphatically embrace and support the Special Interests (or SpIns) of ourselves and others. And when you do that, you give yourself permission to share about the things you love the most without fear of judgment. Like musical theatre, or trains, or the art of drag, or, or, or…
We asked our Brilliant Fellows to introduce themselves with their SpIns. Here is a list to give you a taste:
Art
Travel
Animals
Iridescent things
Plants
Fur babies
Making music
Neapolitan pizza
Growing tomatoes
Rocks
Photography
Crafting
Reading
Nature
Cooking
Renaissance Fairs
Creating safe spaces for students to grow
Cats
Pasta
Packers
Outdoor adventures
Family
Video games
Fairies
Moss
Holographic stuff
D&D
Baking bread
Running marathons
Traveling
History
Equality
Theatre
I’m writing this shortly after our training for The Fellowship in Eau Claire. I wish it were possible to bottle the energy in the room that day, because it was incredible. When people find their people and are encouraged to be creative, the vibe in the room becomes palpable–you can almost feel the vibrations.
Everyone brought their unique flavor to the koldtbord of it all. People were dancing, exchanging stores, making silly faces, and MAKING things! Making their own neighborhood, putting it together with their cohort members, many opening Procreate for the first time, experimenting with brushes, color, storytelling…we even played a game of low-stakes Pictionary where the clues were all based on their special interests.
It takes great care to create an intentionally inclusive space. We craft it for The Fellows, and they then in turn extend that radical hospitality to the participants of these workshops around the state.
One of the things that excites me the most about The Fellowship is that more than half of the fellows identify as neurodivergent. There’s a phrase the disability advocacy community uses often: “not about us without us.” The essence of the phrase is this: don’t talk about autistic people like we’re not in the room. By having stakeholders like myself and our neurodivergent Fellows baked into the creation and execution of this program, it gives weight to our lived experience. (Which is likely more accurate than what someone might read in a book written about autism authored by an allistic individual.)
Part of the heart and the larger “why” of this programming is working to change perceptions of autistic individuals.
Sitting with two of our Fellows in a coffeeshop this week, I found myself being vulnerable and sharing how hurtful it is to be in a meeting with someone who assumes I’m not autistic. Especially if that person goes on to share some very limited views on how we fit into the world.
I found myself saying, “I feel like when you say the word ‘autism,’ many people’s brains automatically go to Dustin Hoffman’s character in Rain Man. Someone who doesn’t make eye contact and keeps saying ‘Definitely, definitely, definitely.’ The character comes across as one note. What would be a more accurate representation in a film (that came out four years before Rain Man) would be Ghostbusters. Dan Aykroyd is autistic and credits his special interests of law enforcement and the paranormal with making the original movie as good as it was.”
(Or Greta Gerwig! The director of Barbie, one of the highest-grossing, most popular films of all time, is neurodivergent!)
In my opinion, the best way to change perceptions about autistic humans is to find a way to share some space with them. Get to know them. Ask about their special interests. Share your own.
Autistic people live among you. Every conversation I’ve had this week with new people has uncovered connections: a co-workers’ daughter is autistic, or a nephew, or a neighbor. And who knows? Our special interests might just intersect with yours!
In summary:
The Fellowship is our brand new, free program and it’s started this month in Eau Claire, La Crosse, Rice Lake, Viroqua, Tomahawk, and Wausau.
We’ve hired some awesome Fellows to lead this new programming.
It’s high time we honor everyone’s special interests and the unique flavors they bring to the koltbord of life.
More Ghostbusters, more Barbie, less Rainman.
And look at that. I’ve run out of blog. And now there’s the blog you just read.
(Sung: Where there never was a blog.
Wink.)
