Includes 29 newly written chapters from scholars and activists around the world. First book to provide an overview of Critical Autism Studies and explore the different kinds of knowledges and their articulations, similarities and differences across cultural contexts and key tensions within this sub-discipline. Of interest to all scholars and students of disability studies, sociology, anthropology, cultural studies, education, health, social care and political science as well as members of the autistic community and activists.

This is a book written to celebrate the humanity of people, and to share experiences of what brilliant care and support can look like for families with learning disabled or autistic children and adults. Sara Ryan steers clear of jargon and 'doublespeak' to conjure authentic experiences of families. Speaking with families and professionals, she conveys the love, laughter and joy which binds families and the harsh realities many face; of separation from loved ones, substandard care and frustration and helplessness in the face of inflexible services. From their experiences, Sara looks to capture those pockets of brilliance that families have encountered, and which outstanding practitioners have pioneered, for us all to learn from. We know so much about what support and services should look like in order to enable flourishing lives - this book aims to help families and professionals to achieve it, together.

On July 4th 2013, Connor Sparrowhawk, also known as Laughing Boy or LB, was found dead in a specialist NHS unit. Connor, who had autism and epilepsy, had a seizure while in the bath and no member of staff was on hand to stop him from drowning. An entirely preventable death. Sara Ryan presents a frank, sometimes funny and touching account of her son's early life and preventable death and the unfolding #JusticeforLB campaign. This serves as a wake-up call to all of us and asks: can we really claim that we respect the life and dignity of learning disabled people?

Battle Hall Davies is sure of some things: She's going to Reed this fall; she loves girls; and her older brother, Nick, outshines her. He ran away four and a half years ago; now he's tracked her down, and she's spending the summer at Forest House, where he lives in Portland. It is a summer of surprises. Battle is swept into Forest House's community Shakespeare production, their all-night card games, and the arms of her new housemate, Meryl. As the weeks pass, Battle realizes that Nick isn't who she thought he was - and she isn't who she thought she was, either.

After moving to the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, poet Sara Ryan found herself immersed in the isolated spaces of the North: the cold places that never thawed, the bleak expanses of snow. These poems have teeth, bones, and blood-they clack and bruise and make loud sounds. They interrogate self-preservation, familial history, extinction, taxidermy, and animal and female bodies. In between these lines, in warm places where blood collects, animals stay hidden and hunted, a girl looks loneliness dead in the eye, and wolves come out of the woods to run across the frozen water of Lake Superior.

Nicola Lancaster is spending eight weeks at the Siegel Institute Summer Program for Gifted Youth, a hothouse of smart, articulate, intense teenagers. She soon falls in with Katrina (Manic Computer Chick), Isaac (Nice-Guy-Despite-Himself), Kevin  (Inarticulate Composer) .  .  . and Battle.  Battle Hall Davies is a beautiful blonde dancer, and everything Nic isn't. The two become friends-and then, startlingly, more than friends. What do you do when you think you're attracted to guys, and then you meet a girl who steals your heart?