I experienced a lot of frustration during the process of writing the first draft of my paper (and after writing it). I attributed this to the fact that I loathe writing papers (#notGettingAnyPHDs), which seemed fair. The main reason that I had such a negative reaction to the paper was that I had not yet found my niche within my topic. I had not yet had a moment of inspiration where the pieces fit together and I knew where I belonged within them. I knew that sensory processing, movement, and empathy were all core threads of my work/research, but I did not see a structure that related these themes and represented me within them. I was trying so hard to meet expectations, to execute a design-like research process, to see the problems at hand and remove myself from them, that I got stuck. Noticeably stuck. For me there is nothing worse than being compromised in a way that is visible to other people. There is also no bigger wake-up call to inspire accepting help.

A classmate, Sarah, asked me if I had come across Sara Hendren and Abler in my research, which I had not. She sent me a link to Hendren's website, where I watched Hendren's talk on her work at the intersection of art, design, and assistive tech. What struck me about her talk was the possibility of creating projects that live in between art and engineering/science. I have been focused on creating a practical design project that addresses a specific problem, which I have approached very scientifically because of my physics background, but I am an artist more than anything else. My background in science informs how I see the world that inspires me to make art. I especially love projects that exist between and beyond the boundaries of specific disciplines. I had been trying so hard to meet expectations (to be fair, there were a lot of different players and influences), which I viewed as rigid though obscure, that I had taken myself out of my own project...

...which brings me to rigidity. I was so inspire by Hendren's talk and website that I started jotting down some notes. And then some more notes. And some more notes. This is what emerged: I am re-framing my topic. I am studying rigid and fluid approaches to ability and assistive technology, applying my findings to develop an assistive technology for people on the Autism Spectrum. What does that mean?

Paul Kotler couldn't have said it any better: "We all need supports." We all need assistance at one time or another. None of us needs assistance all the time with everything. We are all the best judge of when we need help. Other people may perceive that we need assistance, but get in our way when we are not in a place to accept it. So what does help look like? What does support look like?

Have you ever had a long term injury that prevented you from doing something as rigorously as you used to? I have. Doctors tell you to rest. Physical Therapists tell you to do your exercises unless they are painful. Then, they tell you to rest. Ballet teachers tell you to wrap cabbage soaked in vodka around your leg until the swelling goes down. Other people tell you to stop eating gluten. Everyone has something to say about what you should do, and they all say something different based on their perception of your body and needs, based on their experiences and beliefs. When you really do need help, you try everything. Maybe you try to keep going. The injury flares up. You rest. You get restless. You try to move again. It feels good, so you try something you could do before the injury. It flares up. So you rest. A lot. For a long time. The pain subsides, but you are miserable. And weak. You finally feel brave enough to try moving, and your injury flares up immediately on something that used to be safe. So what should you do now? Should you rest? Should you push through the pain? It's tricky.

We all need the drive that motivates us to keep going through adversity, even pain... the one that we see in Nike and Rebok commercials. We also need the drive that motivates us to set boundaries and stop trying so hard when it is hurting us. Sometimes, we need the rigid approach to life: I will make this body do what I want it to do. This drives progress. Other times, we need a softer approach to life: this body can't do that thing right now, and it is ok. In managing injuries or other major obstacles, we must learn to modulate these two ways of thinking. I believe we can learn to reconcile the conflict between the two by adopting a more fluid view of ourselves. We can rethink our understanding of ideal bodies and the rigidity of our standards to allow more flexible goals and methods for reaching them.

In the Eyeo talk mentioned above, Sara Hendren distinguishes between a logic of cure/therapy (engineering/science) and a logic of accommodation of difference (art). Hendren illustrates these approaches with the example of prosthetic limbs. When we think about prosthetic technologies, we envision a powerful woman running on prosthetic feet or robot arms that visually and functionally replicate human arms down to the wedding ring on the finger. Hendren provides a contrasting image of a man named Chris who was born with one arm. Chris can accomplish nearly all "normal" daily tasks without a second arm, so he is not interested in prostheses. It may be tempting for us to create the arm that he never had so that he will fit better into our understanding of happy, healthy human beings, but he finds that prostheses are restrictive more than assistive. That said, Chris would like to be able to rock-climb, so he worked with a team of designers on a removeable prosthetic attachment that he can snap on and snap off that much better suits his needs.

I suggest that these two logics reflect respectively rigid and fluid understandings of the body as it influences and defines identity. Moreover, I suggest that our understanding of help reflects our approach to the body. A body that needs help is considered to be weak, too maleable, in need of support. In this view, help takes a rigid form of extra attention, structure that can be leaned on, pushes and hand-holding. There are absolutely times when this sort of help is appropriate and constructive, but there are also times when this form of assistance is overbearing.

Let's analyze the situation of a person with Autism melting down in response to sensory overload. A neuro-typical response might be to ask what is wrong? It might be to lightly touch the person's shoulder to express compassion. It might be to ask the person how we can help. None of these approaches are likely to be effective in calming the person down. Perhaps they reflect the wrong reasons for wanting to calm the person done. Is this to help the person or to help us feel more comfortable? Other approaches that might be more helpful are both more fluid and more rigid, but reflect a more flexible interpretation of behaviors and needs. A person on the Autistic spectrum is likely to experience discomfort with light touches and unlikely to be able to identify or communicate needs in moments of heightened arousal. Instead, we might darken, quiet, and minimize our presence in the room, removing distracting sensory stimuli and giving the person space to calm down on their own terms. In this approach, we provide assistance by empowering the individual to care for themselves. Alternatively, we might provide a strong, grounding sensory input, maybe a firm pressure to help the person's brain organize and prioritize sensory processing. In this instance, we provide assistance in the form of structure to press against and orient oneself in the murky space of the social world.

These approaches of intervention for Autism Spectrum Disorders reflect the two most fluid schools of thought in education and occupational therapy. The first provides tools to solidify the changing, elusive landspace of social interactions and space for individuals to manage their own needs. This is the school of thought that is responsible for 5 point scales and social robots. The second uses the body to access the mind, and has gained support in cognitive psychology and neuroscience research like Amy Cuddy's work on power posing. Sensory integration therapy and yoga practices are holistic approaches to understanding mind/body/person, and recent research suggests that they are effective in reducing maladaptive behaviors for people on the Autism Spectrum.

In the next draft of my paper, I will investigate these two school of thought and explain how they take a fluid approach to assistance/intervention. From there, I will present a manifesto on assistive technology that reflects what we are doing well as designers/engineers so far, as well as concerns regarding what we could be doing better. Most importantly, assistive technology should be responsive. I needs to reflect an understanding of changing needs. When does a person need structure and when do they need space? I will look to contact improvisation for inspiration as a model of highly effective negotiation of space, needs, and support, achieved through the particalization of the body. What if assistive technology could emulate this modulation and sensitivity? I will also look to projects like Sara Hendren's redesign of the accessibility symbol as both art and engineering. It is possible for a functional project to serve an artistic purpose of prompting thought and reflection. What if my project could address fluid vs. rigid forms of assistance, as well as a social softening of ideals about bodies?

In the process of all of this thinking and reflecting, I was prompted to revisit my initial inspiration cards, and was pleasantly surprised to find that a lot of ideas that had been filtered out of my topic had re-emerged, primarily, particalization, interconnectedness/oneness, mathematical structures/patterns, probabilistic models, dirt/sand/mud, water, contact improvisation, and humility/arrogance/confidence. I recreated the cards that I think are most relevant to this topic reframe and mapped them on my desk.

These are the threads that keep coming up throughout the process. I keep thinking about particles within fluids and changes in organization that lead to firm structures. I keep thinking about the necessity of relaxing ideals about bodies and identities, the necessity of humility for empathy. I keep noticing the positive changes that come with a holistic view of the body: the body is not just the outward representation of the mind; sensory processing tells us that information travels in two directions. I want to use the body as a multi-directional medium for this project. The actions of one body impact the physical, mental, and emotional states of both the doer and his/her surroundings. So what if I could make one thing that impacts both a user and observers by responsively providing different forms of structure?

Here is what I want to do: I will make a wearable device that transforms the initiation of a repetitive movement, for now handflapping, into and socially clear gestural communication, simulataneously delivering strong, calming sensory stimulation. I have considered that this could seem repressive or manipulative, but anyone wearing the device has opted in because they have expressed frustration with the resulting alienation of repetitive movement behaviors in a neurotypical setting. I think the movements should draw inspiration from power posing, which means they will be rather animated expressions, which may seem like hyperbole in comparison with the typical movements of others. This is a statement against social repression and judgement of physical expression of the body, as well as a potential statement to help rethink Autism and the bodies of those on the spectrum. The idea is that the communication will be improved, and people on the outside will be prompted to examine their own assumptions about Autism, ability, and expressive bodies. These goals are lofty. This vision involves doing a lot of things at the same time. I am fully prepared to reign in the scope of my project or pivot again, but this is where I want to begin my ideation process, and it's my thesis, so I can do what I want. Haha... sort of...