The Paris Summer Olympics plans to reduce CO2 emissions by about 50 percent. But is that possible? < Back Climate, News Will Paris Olympics 2024 be most eco friendly ever The Paris Summer Olympics plans to reduce CO2 emissions by about 50 percent. But is that possible? MMS Staff 12 Jul 2024 3-min read In about a fortnight, athletes, authorities, staff, and huge congregations of sports enthusiasts from around the world will throng to Paris for the Summer Olympics. In this year’s games, over 10,000 athletes will participate across 800+ events, with 45,000 volunteers and 13 million meals served. Alongside being one of the biggest sporting spectacles ever, Paris 2024 also aims to be the greenest and most eco-friendly edition of the Olympics in history. If you’re wondering how it’s possible to make an event of such a big scale easy on the environment, that’s a 100 percent valid question. It’s enormously difficult. After all, we’re looking at a ton of travel, huge amounts of food & drink, and kilowatts upon kilowatts of energy consumption. But the organisers have a plan, it seems. According to this story on the World Economic Forum website, Paris has pledged to reduce the event’s carbon footprint by close to 50 percent. In exact figures, that comes up to about 1.75 million tonnes of carbon dioxide versus the 3.75 million tonnes that some of the previous editions averaged out to. Additionally, 95 percent of the events will be hosted in existing buildings and venues, which means Paris 2024 also plans to be cutting down on creating new venues from the ground up, something that’s very common for events such as the Olympics. 95 percent of the events will take place in existing venues at the Paris Olympics 2024 Paris 2024’s Athletes' Village will be powered by renewable energy and the athletes will use mattresses made from recycled fishing nets. As part of their offsetting initiatives, Paris 2024 will also invest in environmental and social projects around the world, and, within the city, plant around 2,00,000 trees. The city also plans to add 1,000 km of new lanes for cycling, making it easier for people to get around, cutting CO2 transport emissions. And finally, the games plan to move towards more plant-based meals and cut down on single-use plastics. Picture credit: Paris 2024 While this is all definitely a move in the right direction, sceptics aren’t entirely convinced that these changes will prove effective enough to have the desired impact. In this article, Seth Warren Rose of the Eneref Institute, an advocacy and research group focused on sustainable development, says that close to 50 percent is not enough, and that Paris 2024 must bring it down actually to 50 percent. “Maybe things like the Olympics have to be reconsidered… Having millions of people congregate in a single area is a very intensive thing,” he said. Picture credit: International Olympic Committee Whether or not Paris 2024 manages to hit the 50 percent carbon emission reduction mark is something that remains to be seen, but it’s important - and now more than ever - to be having these conversations, especially around mega events the size of the Olympics. The Global Risks Report 2024 says that vegetarian diets and other low-carbon life choices, including adapting transportation means that are low on CO2 emissions and reducing the consumption of single-use plastic, can, on a large scale, make a significant difference. But how much of a change can individual efforts really bring about when companies - including those sponsoring these kinds of events - aren’t entirely dedicating themselves to incorporating the same eco-friendly practices in their operations? At least organisers are quick to admit not everything is perfect. “We say that sustainability is a collective sport,” Georgina Grenon, director of environmental excellence for the Paris Games said to AP . “Will everything be perfect? No, right? We cannot say that. We’re still working very, very hard to go as far as we can.” Picture credit: Global Risks Report 2024 Much much relate? Share it now! WhatsApp Facebook X (Twitter) LinkedIn Copy link < Back SHORTS

Incident at "special needs" Dehradun school exposes gaps in protection of neurodivergent children < Back News, Neurodiversity, Parenting Autistic brothers raped, burnt with cigarettes at boarding school Incident at "special needs" Dehradun school exposes gaps in protection of neurodivergent children MMS Staff 3 Jun 2025 4-min read A disturbing incident in Dehradun, Uttarakhand, has brought the urgent need for robust child protection and neurodivergent safety in India to the forefront. Two autistic brothers, aged 9 and 13, from Moradabad, Uttar Pradesh, were allegedly raped and physically assaulted at an unlicensed boarding facility. A staff member has been arrested, and the incident has exposed significant regulatory failures in special care institutions across the nation. The alleged abuse against autistic children came to light last Friday when the boys' mother visited them at the school, a facility presented as a boarding option for autistic children with special needs. Upon seeing their mother, both children reportedly disclosed an ordeal that began shortly after their admission in April. Horrific details of the alleged abuse emerge The mother had admitted her sons to the school following her husband’s death, seeking a care solution that would allow her to manage her job. She located the special needs school online. Her recent visit, however, uncovered the alleged abuse. The children identified the accused as Monu Pal (also known as Sonu), 29, from Ghazipur, Uttar Pradesh. They alleged he used an iron rod to beat them, burned them with cigarettes to instill fear and silence, and subjected them to molestation and rape. This grim testimony highlights the critical need for comprehensive caregiver background checks in India. Police action and ongoing investigation The mother immediately filed a formal police complaint. Superintendent of Police, Dehradun City, Pramod Kumar, confirmed that a case was registered under sections 64(2) (rape) and 115(2) (voluntarily causing hurt) of the Bharatiya Nyaya Sanhita (BNS), along with relevant sections of the Protection of Children from Sexual Offences (POCSO) Act. Monu Pal, who resided at the school’s boarding facility, was arrested and jailed. Kumar stated, “The accused, who was staying at the school’s boarding facility, was tracked down. He was arrested and sent to jail.” He added: “We seized the DVR of CCTV cameras installed inside the boarding facility, which was opened three months ago in a four-room residential building. We are also trying to contact the parents of the other two children staying with the two victims.” Police facilitated interviews with the two brothers, utilising translators from the Child Welfare Committee (CWC) and assistance from the State Commission for Protection of Child Rights (SCPCR). CCTV footage from the boarding house has been secured as evidence, aiding the Dehradun child abuse investigation. Unlicensed operations uncovered: a systemic failure The Chairperson of the SCPCR, Geeta Khanna, revealed significant operational irregularities. According to Khanna, the unlicensed boarding school was being run by a woman without the necessary legal permits. It housed autistic children, including the victims, who reportedly slept on bunk beds in the same room as the accused. This lack of authorization underscores severe flaws in special needs school regulations in India. Khanna further stated, “A woman was running a special school for persons with disabilities, and first of all, it did not have the necessary permissions to operate such a facility. Recently, they hired the accused, Sonu, but his police verification was not done, and we could not find any appointment letters.” It was also disclosed that the woman operated a separate ‘prep school’ for special children nearby, which had 15 students, four of whom opted for the boarding facility. The trust allegedly operating these facilities was registered in Delhi but had failed to inform local authorities about either. Khanna indicated that Monu Pal was hired on May 16, with the alleged abuse commencing soon after. The sexual harassment allegations have led to the closure of the illegally run boarding school. The investigation is ongoing. The identity of the victims has been withheld in accordance with Supreme Court directives. A deeper crisis: Ensuring safety for Neurodivergent lives Every time news of such horrific abuse against autistic and neurodivergent individuals surfaces – whether in India, or across the globe – it chips away at our hope for a truly inclusive and safe world for neurodivergent people. These stories are not isolated incidents; they are symptomatic of a pervasive societal failure to protect those who are often misunderstood and marginalised. The heartbreaking truth is that no place, no country, feels entirely safe for neurodivergent children and adults. While accountability is pursued, the deeper questions remain: How could this happen? And more importantly, how do we prevent child abuse in special needs facilities? This agonising incident, among many others, underscores the critical need for constant vigilance and robust support systems for neurodivergent children and adults, especially when placed in institutional care. We don’t know how many more institutional abuse stories like this go untold. Much much relate? Share it now! WhatsApp Facebook X (Twitter) LinkedIn Copy link < Back SHORTS

The journey of two siblings navigating the world with mutual respect and a shared perspective < Back Neurodiversity Siblings who "get it": The neurodivergent brother-sister bond The journey of two siblings navigating the world with mutual respect and a shared perspective Aditi Gangrade 17 Aug 2024 4-min read As someone who’s autistic and ADHD, I’ve always felt that the bond I share with my younger brother, who also has ADHD, is different from anything else in my life. Growing up neurodivergent in a world that often doesn’t understand you can be incredibly isolating, but having a sibling who “gets it” changes everything. It took us many years to understand each other as both of us grew up as undiagnosed neurodivergents, only to realise in our adulthood that we’re neurodivergent. After many years of fights, love, and care, our relationship is now built on a deep understanding of each other’s needs, struggles, and joys. Unspoken understanding of sensory needs One of the things my brother and I instinctively understand about each other is our sensory needs. We don’t need to explain to each other why certain lights are too bright or why certain textures are unbearable — we just know. I remember countless times when he’d walk into a room and immediately turn down the volume on the TV because he could tell I was getting overwhelmed. He’d ask my parents to get soft socks for me as the texture of most socks hurt me. These small, unspoken gestures are a huge part of what makes our relationship special. We’ve learned to create a comfortable environment for each other without even thinking about it. Navigating social expectations together Social situations have always been challenging for both of us. I’ve often felt out of place, not understanding social cues or the unwritten rules everyone else seemed to know. But having my brother by my side made these situations easier to handle. We’ve developed our own way of communicating when we’re in public, with little signals that say, “I need a break” or “Let’s get out of here.” It’s like having a partner in a world that sometimes feels like it’s speaking a different language. The comfort of predictability Routine has always been my safe space, and I know my brother feels the same. We both find comfort in the predictable rhythms of our daily lives. Whether it was our morning chai ritual or the way we always had movie afternoons on chill days, where we binge-watched our favourite shows. These routines ground us. They’re our way of creating a world that feels safe and manageable. It’s something we’ve always done for each other, even when the rest of the world feels chaotic. Mutual respect for boundaries Growing up, we both learned the importance of respecting each other’s boundaries. I’ve always needed my alone time to recharge, and so has he. We never took it personally when one of us needed to retreat to our room after a long day — it was just understood. This respect for boundaries has been a cornerstone of our relationship, allowing us to support each other without overwhelming each other. It’s a form of love that’s based on deep understanding and acceptance. Coping mechanisms and strategies Over the years, my brother and I have developed our own set of coping mechanisms to manage our neurodivergence. From stimming to using specific apps that help us stay organised, we’ve always shared what works for us. I remember when he introduced me to a new time management app that completely changed the way I handle my daily tasks. These strategies are more than just tools — they’re a way of saying, “I understand what you’re going through, and I’m here to help.” Handling meltdowns with empathy Meltdowns are a part of our lives, and having a sibling who truly understands what that feels like has been invaluable. When I’m on the brink of a meltdown, my brother knows exactly what to do — whether it’s giving me space or just sitting quietly with me until I’m ready to talk. I do the same for him. There’s no judgement, no impatience — just empathy. We’ve been through it enough times to know that sometimes the best thing you can do is just be there for each other. The joy of special interests One of the most joyful aspects of our relationship is the way we connect over our special interests. Whether it’s long sessions playing our favourite video games or a marathon discussion about a topic like our favourite snacks, these shared passions bring us closer. It’s about celebrating the intensity and enthusiasm that comes with our neurodivergence. In these moments, we see each other’s true selves, and there’s nothing more affirming than that. Experiencing the world differently, together The world can be overwhelming, confusing, and even hostile for neurodivergent people. But my brother and I experience it together, and that makes all the difference. We might perceive things differently from others, but we share that experience with each other. It’s like having someone who speaks your language in a foreign land. We just “get” each other in a way that’s hard to put into words, but it’s something I wouldn’t trade for anything. Being neurodivergent siblings has shaped the way my brother and I relate to each other and the world. For us, it’s not just about being siblings — it’s about being allies, friends, and each other’s greatest champions in a world that doesn’t always understand us. We truly are siblings who get it. Much much relate? Share it now! WhatsApp Facebook X (Twitter) LinkedIn Copy link < Back SHORTS

An open letter by one of our readers to their mom < Back Parenting, Neurodiversity Dear mom, thank you for celebrating my Autism An open letter by one of our readers to their mom Shaily (they/them) 25 May 2024 2-min read Dear Mom, I want to take a moment to share how much your love and support have meant to me. Growing up autistic wasn't always easy, but you made sure I had the best possible environment to thrive. Your efforts to understand and support me were invaluable, and I want you to know just how much they've shaped my life. You knew that understanding autism was key to helping me, so you dedicated yourself to learning about it. You took the time to understand my unique traits and how autism manifested in me. Instead of trying to change me, you celebrated my individuality and embraced the fact that being autistic is a part of who I am. That acceptance meant everything to me. Communication was another area where you truly shined. You realized that I had different ways of expressing myself and you adapted. Whether it was using visual supports, social stories, or technology, you found ways to help me communicate comfortably. Your patience and willingness to meet me where I was made all the difference. You also understood how overwhelming sensory overload could be for me. You created sensory-friendly spaces at home with dim lighting, soft textures, and noise reduction. These spaces became my sanctuary where I could recharge and feel safe. Your thoughtful design of our home environment showed how much you cared about my comfort. Your advocacy was relentless. Whether it was at school, during extracurricular activities, or in public spaces, you made sure my needs were met. You fought for accommodations and ensured I had the support necessary to succeed. Your determination paved the way for my growth and development, and I can't thank you enough for that. Routines and structure were crucial for me, and you recognized that. You established predictable schedules and clear expectations, which provided stability and reduced my anxiety. Knowing what to expect each day helped me navigate life with greater ease. Social interactions can be tough for someone like me, but you facilitated opportunities that were tailored to my comfort level. You encouraged friendships with understanding peers and organized inclusive activities. Thanks to you, I was able to develop social skills and form meaningful connections. You also taught me the importance of self-care. You modeled healthy coping strategies and encouraged me to engage in activities that brought me joy. You made sure to take care of yourself too, which was crucial for maintaining a positive and supportive environment at home. Above all, your unconditional love and support have been the foundation of my growth. Your belief in my abilities, even during the toughest times, gave me the courage to embrace my autistic identity with confidence. Your support has been my constant source of strength. Thank you, Mom, for everything you've done and continue to do. I hope other autism parents learn from you. I wish there was better support for you too. With all my love, Shaily Much much relate? Share it now! WhatsApp Facebook X (Twitter) LinkedIn Copy link < Back SHORTS

Legendary sprinter partners with P&G to ensure mothers can compete at their best < Back Parenting, News, Gender Allyson Felix champions Olympic Village nursery for athlete moms Legendary sprinter partners with P&G to ensure mothers can compete at their best MMS Staff 13 Jul 2024 2-min read Retired Olympic athlete Allyson Felix has partnered up with P&G to have a nursery in the Olympic Village at Paris 2024. The nursery - a first of its kind - will provide a space for athlete moms to ensure their babies are cared for, as well as bond with each other. “I just knew how difficult it is to compete at the top level after I had my daughter. And so when I became (part of) the athletes’ commission of the IOC (International Olympics Committee), I really wanted to be the voice for athlete moms,” Felix said in an interview with CBS Mornings. Felix has a record 20 world championship medals and 11 Olympic wins - including seven Gold medals. “It’s just one less thing for them (athlete moms) to worry about in the pressure of competition,” she added. The space is an area where kids can have their playtime, and moms can feed their babies and take a break from all the noise that happens at the Olympics games. Built to meet the demands of up to 22,250 athletes and staff, the nursery has been built with support from P&G’s Pampers brand. The space will stock up on nappies and wet wipes from the sponsor brand, who will also provide a wide range of essential services including access to period protection products, laundry rooms and dental clinics across the village. “Pregnancy and motherhood don’t have to mean a career end for female athletes. I am very grateful for the strong support of P&G from the first day our Commission put forward the suggestion. It is very helpful for both parents and infants to be able to spend time together, especially at such an important moment in an athlete’s sporting life. This nursery allows that to happen, while also giving athletes the opportunity to focus on the Games,” said IOC Athletes’ Commission Chair Emma Terho in this article on the Olympics website. Felix, who is now part of the Athletes’ Commission at the IOC, had a complicated pregnancy in 2018. After Camryn - her daughter’s - birth, Felix competed at the Tokyo Olympics in 2020, winning 4 x 400m gold and earning an individual bronze in the 400 m, marking her fifth consecutive Olympics with a medal. “I think (the initiative) tells women you can be mothers and still be at the top of your game,” Felix said. “... we’re seeing so many athlete mom role models for the younger ones to look up to. And I hope we just keep finding better ways to support these women.” Much much relate? Share it now! WhatsApp Facebook X (Twitter) LinkedIn Copy link < Back SHORTS

Seeing their children struggle with loneliness, Gopika Kapoor & Moneisha Gandhi launched Buddy Up < Back Disability, Neurodiversity, Parenting These moms have built a friendship app for disabled people & their caregivers Seeing their children struggle with loneliness, Gopika Kapoor & Moneisha Gandhi launched Buddy Up Swara Swami 15 Oct 2024 12-min read Loneliness and social isolation are common yet often overlooked struggles for people with disabilities and their caregivers. The lack of accessible opportunities for forming friendships leaves many in the disability community feeling disconnected. This isolation can have a profound impact on emotional well-being, making the need for supportive, inclusive spaces even more critical. At Much Much Spectrum, we set out to explore this pressing issue by speaking with the co-founders of Buddy Up, an innovative app designed to bridge this gap. In an exclusive interview, Gopika Kapoor and Moneisha Gandhi, both mothers to young people with disabilities, share how their personal experiences of loneliness inspired them to create an app that promises to connect people with disabilities and their caregivers, offering them a platform to find meaningful friendships and support networks. Swara: Can you both please introduce yourself? Gopika (she/ her): My name is Gopika Kapoor. I am a neurodiversity consultant and an author. I'm also a counsellor and one of the co-founders of Buddy Up along with Moneisha. Moneisha (she/ her): I'm Moneisha, the second co-founder of Buddy Up. For many years I ran and managed an embroidery export company but that closed during the Covid lockdown. I'm also mom to a 19-year-old called Mihaan who has Down Syndrome. I volunteer at the Ummeed Parent Resource Centre and was involved at my son's school helping in the inclusion space there. Swara: What inspired you both to create the Buddy Up app and how did your personal experiences as mothers of children with disabilities influence this? Moneisha: So my son is one of those very social characters, and he was at a school and I was kind of getting a little worried when he was getting into his teenage years about long-term friendships because I felt like the other kids in the school were all going to go off in different directions. So I actively started looking for friends for him. I didn't want it to come to a point where he would suddenly be alone but I was finding it hard to find friends that he could relate to and I wished there was an app like this. Luckily for us, we met through a common friend - Dr Vibha Krishnamurthy - who founded Ummeed Child Development Center. She said, “Hey, you know, why don't you try meeting?” The two boys (Vir and Mihaan) met and it was like magic. They just got on really well. We got them together and it was really fantastic and they've known each other now for about three years. We realised that having this sort of connection is very, very powerful. We kind of also thought how amazing it would be for other people to have some way of reaching out to others in the community to make those connections, and that was the genesis of the Buddy Up idea. Gopika: So for my part, you know, Vir - my son - being on the spectrum, I really struggled to find friends for him, friends who would be like him, friends who could do the same things that he could do and whom he could relate with. I remember I was told when I used to go for therapy at Ummeed, to do planned playdates and I used to hate those because it would stress me out so much because if it was a neurotypical child they would end up playing with Vir's twin sister Gayatri, who is neurotypical, and Vir would be in one corner playing on his own. If it was an autistic kid or someone within the disability community, then I would be dealing with two kids doing this very kind of thing. So I just gave up on these playdates and I just figured, okay, you know, we'll figure it out as it goes on. But as he got older, we would try to compensate for his lack of friends, but as parents, you're no compensation for a teenage boy. He'd rather be out with his friends than hanging out with his parents. And so I was very stressed that in two years, my daughter would be leaving for college and what would he do because she's his twin sister and they've been together from the womb. Enter Mihaan, and Vir and him just chilled. And the amazing thing is that I think Moneisha had been looking for friends for Mihaan in the Down Syndrome community. I had been looking for friends for Vir in the autism community. Moneisha: And we realised after they met, one, that it was hugely life-changing and two, that having a friend is therapeutic. Gopika: Moneisha introduced me to this bootcamp that both the boys are part of. They've got a whole bunch of friends there. And then I told her Vir is going to join something called Skill Shakti. So she said, I'm going to apply for Mihaan. And then things rolled from there. Moneisha: I think no place existed where you could meet. You have to be lucky to find someone within your circle. I think the idea of this app was really to open up that whole circle of possibility. You could now potentially have a whole, much wider circle to choose a friend from. You're not going to be friends with the first person you meet. Gopika: And you're not going to want to hang out with that same person all the time. You want to have a variety of people in your life. Moneisha: I'm always looking at the app, like who's their age, who kind of shares similar interests to them that we can sort of reach out to via the app. There's a loneliness epidemic out there. There are so many people that are just alone, sad, because they don't have that connection. And I think this is like a mode of trying to find those people that could potentially be those important people in your life. Swara: From your perspective, what's the biggest social challenge faced by people with disabilities and their caregivers in India? And how does Buddy Up aim to address these issues? Moneisha: With people with disabilities in lots of different families, I think the stigma they face, other people don't want to hang out with their kids. Parents with Down Syndrome come and tell us that they really feel isolated, the kids and the parents. So here is a possibility to reach out to people that share your experience and know exactly what you've been through and therefore are much more likely to form a deep connection with you because of a shared experience. Gopika: I'll talk from the perspective of autism. What happens is, parents, when they have an autistic child, they don't know how this child is going to behave. So they cut themselves off. They don't go to birthday parties. They don't go to weddings. They don't go to the mall. They don't go to the beach. They don't go to family dinners and hang out, hang out with their friends. Very few do. If they find a caretaker, they will leave the child with them, but otherwise invariably it will be one parent going and the other one sitting at home, usually the mom sitting at home with the child. And it becomes very difficult. There's nobody to understand how you feel because even though you may be very close to your parents, your siblings, your friends, that exact experience that you're going through is not going to be understood by anybody because they are not living your life as a caregiver. For a person with a disability, same thing. They are not living your life. So what the app does is it really attempts to bring together not only people with disabilities, but also caregivers. And so you will be connected with another caregiver. Now, whether your child may be two, that person's child may be 20. It doesn't matter, but you can connect with the other caregiver, talk to them, talk about experiences that you've shared. You can talk about resources or just whatever you want to do. You can create that friendship based on a shared experience. So the app gives you that option as well. Moneisha: You can read a profile. If someone you feel like they might be somebody that you connect with, you can send them a friend request, you can talk about whatever you need to talk to them about. So I think it just opens up possibilities, different people that you may not have met in your immediate circles. I think that was really the idea. Gopika: If you are, say, limited by a mobility condition, you can't get out of the house, or if you just don't want to be around people, but at the same time you want some sort of connection, where do you go that is a safe space? You may not be able to find those if you're older, you may not be able to find those connections on Tinder or Hinge or something like that. There is always that safety aspect. If your child is younger, Facebook, Instagram may not be the right kind of place. And so really, where do you go? So this gives you the option of also having an online friendship. You can look for online friends only, in which case only those people will show up and you can chat with them on the app. We offer a one-minute free video call, which is to ascertain the identity of the person who you're chatting with to make sure they are who they say they are. And you can keep chatting with them on the app without revealing your WhatsApp number, phone number, address. So you can stay on the app and keep chatting with them, and just take it from there. Swara: Can you walk us through some of the key features of Buddy Up? How does the app specifically cater to the needs of both individuals with disabilities and their caregivers? Moneisha: One of the things that we've worked on is accessibility. We did a lot of testing with the visually impaired community. We also tested it with people who had other disabilities. We got their feedback and some of the things that they talked about were incorporated. We have a block feature. We thought that was really important to someone that is bothering you. Those sorts of focus groups kind of helped us to tailor the app to listen to what people are asking for. Gopika: You can basically search for friends on the basis of any kind of criteria. Age, gender, LGBTQIA+ identity, distance, etc. And we've spoken to lots of people in the disability community and introduced interests that they might have. For example, we were told that anime is a huge interest. So we included that. Somebody wrote to us and said please include writing. So we included that. Languages are another area of interest for a lot of people, especially on the autism spectrum. And then based on disability. If you don’t want to disclose your disability, you can leave it blank. Moneisha: I think that feature is very useful for parents and caregivers because if they're feeling like they need to connect with someone with a specific condition - like a rare genetic disorder - you can use that criteria to locate other parents who've been through a similar experience. Gopika: You can chat with the person, you can send them pictures, like a regular chat. Moneisha: And there’s also the option to keep details about yourself private, like your address, phone number, etc. Gopika: Also, your username doesn't have to reflect your name. Your photograph doesn't have to be uploaded. Swara: For parents receiving a new diagnosis for their child, peer support is crucial. How does the app help new parents find guidance, support and community? Gopika: Parents can reach out to other caregivers. They can find other caregivers, like themselves, they can connect with. If they want people from their locality, they can connect with them. If they want to talk to them online, they can connect with them there. Moneisha: We also have a list of resources, which we'll be constantly updating on the first page. Gopika: When you ask any parent of a child with a disability what they want for their child, they’ll say a solid friend. Other moms have seen the friendship Vir and Mihaan share, and the fact that as their moms we have created this app, they say they feel very happy when they see this. Moneisha: When we were looking at this space, we just felt like there are so many great organisations out there for therapy, good medical facilities, etc. But the one place in the disability space that seemed to be missing was the social one. And I think this app will make some progress towards helping resolve some of those issues. The biggest issue is like (these children) are just isolated. As a parent or a person with disability, to have that small group of people or that person who can actually be your go-to person, not somebody who does it out of a sense of charity. I remember when we got our diagnosis for Mihaan, Down Syndrome, it was just so stressful. But that whole cloud lifted the moment I met an older mom who had a son with Down syndrome. I met the family, I saw they were okay. And I heaved a sigh of relief, because I said, okay, they're fine. I'm going to be fine. And I'm hoping that's another sort of thing that comes out of these connections on the app. Swara: What are some of the most significant challenges you faced while developing and launching Buddy Up, especially when trying to meet the unique needs of your target audience? Gopika: We are not tech people. And the app is tech. So just understanding, learning, figuring out what platform to use, how to do it. I mean, the challenges continue. Moneisha: Right now, we bootstrapped this whole project. But there are things we need to think about. First we thought we’ll start with a really simple app. Then we said, it doesn't look great. It has to be an app, it has to have all the features, so we added features. We kept adding and at every stage I would say one thing, we've been very lucky, we also just had people that have put up their hand, come forward, helped us, people who've done stuff at cost, people who've done stuff pro bono. Gopika: And not necessarily people connected with disability. The design was created by somebody in Bangalore who works on app design and was on Moneisha's husband's school group. My nephew and one of his friends helped us with the hosting. So we really had help from a lot of people, and I just had to call Aditi and say listen we're doing this and she said we're doing an interview and I know the kind of reach Much Much Spectrum has. So I think that has really been quite wonderful. Swara: What is your long-term vision for Buddy Up? Moneisha: To increase the number of users is the first thing. We just want to have lots of people on it, and lots more choices. Gopika: We have also had people reaching out to us and saying please bring it to our country, somebody from Dubai, somebody from Singapore, somebody from London, from Canada saying why don't you start Buddy Up Canada? Let's just do India first then we'll think about going to Canada! Moneisha: We have to just take it one step at a time where each step is difficult so once we get over the first hurdle then we start thinking about the next one. Swara: I just want to add that what you both are doing with this app it's really great, because we have not had something like that. Especially as a child when I had no friends, I think the children nowadays will have some support now through this app. Gopika: Thank you, fingers crossed. Much much relate? Share it now! WhatsApp Facebook X (Twitter) LinkedIn Copy link < Back SHORTS

Nehma Vitols is rewriting fashion through care, time, and lived experience < Back Work, LGBTQIA+, Gender Meet the queer fashion designer who rejected hustle culture through couture Nehma Vitols is rewriting fashion through care, time, and lived experience MMS Staff 10 Apr 2026 7-min read “I’m building a fashion practice where garments carry lived experience, collaboration is structural, and time is treated as a material rather than a constraint,” says Nehma Vitols, the Australian fashion designer whose work is pushing back against the speed, image politics, and exhaustion that still define much of fashion. For Vitols, clothes are not just things to be worn or sold. They are vessels for labour, memory, place, and the realities people carry in their bodies. Vitols’ vision comes sharply into focus in Vintage 2025, her latest line and exhibition project, inspired by her wife’s work as a winemaker during grape harvest in regional Australia. Built from interviews with women winemakers in the Riverina, the project centres labour that is often overlooked, tracing the physical, emotional, and seasonal rhythms of their lives through garments, film, sound, and storytelling. More than a fashion collection, Vintage 2025 is a study of women’s work, endurance, and authorship, and of what happens when fashion chooses to listen before it speaks. Vitols says her clarity does not come from feeling at home in the industry. It comes from moving through it while constantly sensing where she did not fit. “I never really fit the mould the industry seemed to reward,” Vitols says. “I wasn’t skinny enough, pretty enough, or positioned within the kind of male queerness that was visibly celebrated, and authorship in a space that didn’t reflect me always felt uneasy.” She kept going anyway, but without ease. Even at university, where creative spaces are often imagined as open and collaborative, she found herself at odds with the culture around her. “I was prolific with my work, which became a point of tension rather than connection,” she says, describing peer relationships that often felt “competitive rather than collaborative.” I never really fit the mould the industry seemed to reward. I wasn’t skinny enough, pretty enough, or positioned within the kind of male queerness that was visibly celebrated That early unease stayed with her when she moved to London to try to make it in fashion. What the city revealed was not just the grind of creative ambition, but the class architecture beneath it. “It revealed how closely access is tied to pedigree,” she says. “On that side of the world, fashion operates as a profession for the already resourced.” For people without those buffers, the costs pile up quickly. “When you are underpaid, the cost of living forces you into additional work. Long hours in bars alongside full time creative labour quickly erode sleep and stability.” Eventually, that instability culminated in a severe psychosis episode. What followed was not just recovery, but a reset. Vitols had to rebuild her life around conditions the industry rarely treats as essential. “I had to build a life with foundations,” she says. “Sleep became non-negotiable. Medication, routine, and structure came first.” It changed the way she made work, too. “I now approach making slowly and deliberately. I chip away at it as a meditative process rather than forcing outcomes.” Creativity, once tied to depletion, became something steadier and more sustaining. That shift also forced her to draw lines the fashion world often treats as weakness. “The boundary I drew was refusing to operate at a pace that required self erasure,” she says. “I will not produce work that requires me to disappear in the process.” In practice, that means saying no to work that does not align with her values, and refusing a model of ambition built on silence, urgency, and collapse. “I do not separate wellbeing from rigour,” she says. “Care is the structure, not the compromise.” Those ideas run through Vintage 2025, her latest line, which takes its name and spirit from grape harvest season and from her wife’s work as a winemaker in regional Australia. The project began with something intimate and difficult to dress up. “My wife and I had recently married, and I became what we jokingly called a ‘Vintage Widow’,” Vitols says. During harvest, her wife worked long, demanding days across the week for four months straight. “I missed her deeply. I cried most days.” My wife and I had recently married, and I became what we jokingly called a ‘Vintage Widow’. During harvest, she worked long, demanding days across the week for four months straight. I missed her deeply. I cried most days. Wanting to better understand the work that was taking her wife away for months at a time, Vitols asked if she could visit the winery and photograph what harvest actually looked like. What she found opened the project outward. “What I saw was grit, precision, and extraordinary rigour,” she says. That experience also made her wonder how many other women were doing this work quietly across the region. “Wine is often romanticised, yet the Riverina is one of the most overlooked and under romanticised wine regions in the country,” she says. “Centreing women winemakers felt necessary because their labour, expertise, and endurance are foundational, yet rarely foregrounded.” That decision gave Vintage 2025 its shape. Built from interviews with women winemakers, the project draws directly from their lived experience. One of the strongest themes to emerge was the duality of the work itself. “Many of the women were drawn to winemaking through a balance of art and science,” Vitols says. “Technical precision sat alongside intuition, sensory memory, and judgement built over time.” She was especially struck by the women who were also mothers. “Several likened Vintage to having a newborn every year,” she says, describing a cycle of physical intensity, lack of sleep, and relentless expectation that they would continue to show up fully both at work and at home. Vitols calls each garment a “wearable archive,” and the phrase is more than metaphor. It is her design logic. “I think of the archive as layered rather than singular,” she says. “It holds memory, not as nostalgia but as something embodied and ongoing. It holds place as a condition shaped by climate, industry, distance, and rhythm. It holds labour, both visible and invisible.” In her hands, clothing does not merely reference experience. It stores it. “A seam can signal protection or tension. A print can function as an archive rather than decoration.” The garment, she says, “does not illustrate experience. It contains it.” A seam can signal protection or tension. A print can function as an archive rather than decoration. The garment does not illustrate experience, it contains it. That philosophy sets her apart from the mainstream fashion model, where speed is often treated as relevance and novelty as value. “Seasonal fashion is designed for replacement,” she says. “My work is designed for accumulation.” Instead of asking what is next, she asks what needs to be held. It is a small shift in language, but a major shift in politics. That politics extends beyond the garments themselves. Vintage 2025 was conceived not as a standard runway, but as a layered exhibition experience involving storytelling, film, and live sound. “Clothes were never going to be enough on their own,” Vitols says. “I wanted audiences to slow down and encounter the work through multiple entry points.” It is an approach that resists passive consumption and asks for something rarer now: attention. It also resists the myth of the solitary creative genius. Vintage 2025 intentionally spotlighted other local women creatives, including jewellery designer Kristy-Lee Agresta, makeup artist Lucinda Panarello, hair stylist Alison Matthews, and photographer Ginette Guidolin. “From the outset, Vintage 2025 was not about assembling contributors around a single author,” Vitols says. “It was about building a world shaped collectively, with visibility, agency, and credit intact.” That matters aesthetically, but also materially. “Resourcing and crediting women as co authors shifts power,” she says. “The work exists through collective labour rather than individual genius.” For Vitols, this is not a detour from fashion. It is the point of it. She wants the work to reach people who may never have seen themselves as a “fashion audience” at all, by bringing it into conversation with agriculture, craft, music, labour, and regional life. She designs for women who refuse the male gaze, for queer ways of looking, and for people who have built their lives through persistence rather than permission. She also sees Vintage 2025 not as a one-off collection, but as a model for what comes next. “I see Vintage 2025 as a framework rather than a singular event,” she says. There is something quietly radical in that idea. Not a brand chasing reinvention for its own sake, but a practice rooted in listening, trust, and time. In an industry still obsessed with acceleration, Vitols is making a case for another way forward. One where rest is not the enemy of ambition, where care sharpens rather than softens the work, and where clothing can do more than decorate a body. It can hold a life. Much much relate? Share it now! WhatsApp Facebook X (Twitter) LinkedIn Copy link < Back SHORTS

The Netflix show wins big at the awards for tackling toxic masculinity and telling uncomfortable truths < Back Gender, Media, News 'Adolescence' star Owen Cooper just made Emmy history The Netflix show wins big at the awards for tackling toxic masculinity and telling uncomfortable truths MMS Staff 15 Sept 2025 5-min read At just 15 years old, Owen Cooper stood on the Emmy stage this week with tears in his eyes and disbelief in his voice. “Honestly, when I started these drama classes, I didn’t expect to be even in the United States, never mind here.” With that, Cooper made history as the youngest-ever winner for Outstanding Supporting Actor in a Limited or Anthology Series, recognised for his breakthrough role as Jamie in Netflix’s harrowing miniseries Adolescence. But what he and the show represent goes far beyond a single award. Adolescence - a bold, slow-burning, emotionally raw exploration of youth, violence, and masculinity - swept the 2025 Emmy Awards with an urgency that few television projects in recent memory have matched. In total, the series took home eight major awards, including: 🏆 Outstanding Limited or Anthology Series 🏆 Outstanding Lead Actor in a Limited Series (Stephen Graham) 🏆 Outstanding Supporting Actor (Owen Cooper) 🏆 Outstanding Supporting Actress (Erin Doherty) 🏆 Outstanding Writing (Stephen Graham & Jack Thorne) 🏆 Outstanding Directing (Philip Barantini) 🏆 Outstanding Casting 🏆 Outstanding Cinematography Yet for all its cinematic finesse, Adolescence succeeds most by refusing to look away. One boy, one crime, one uncomfortable truth Adolescence opens with a news story that feels all too familiar: a 13-year-old boy, Jamie Miller, has been arrested for the murder of a female classmate. But this is not a whodunit. It’s not a mystery to be solved. It is an excavation - of shame, rejection, digital radicalization, and the dangerous stories boys are told about who they’re supposed to be. Filmed in just four episodes - each shot in one continuous take - Adolescence places viewers in a world where time stretches and implodes. There are no edits, no jump cuts, no breathers. The camera lingers as Jamie moves from classroom to interrogation room to youth detention facility. As he unravels, so does everything we assume about violence and vulnerability. What makes Cooper’s performance especially haunting is how ordinary he allows Jamie to be. There is no dramatisation, no villainous smirk. Just a boy - soft-featured, uncertain - failing to find his place in a world that offers few scripts outside dominance and denial. The quiet collapse of boyhood The series has been widely hailed as a masterclass in how storytelling can challenge societal myths, especially around toxic masculinity, online incel culture, and the emotional illiteracy that surrounds boys and men. But Adolescence does something rare: it focuses not just on the aftermath of violence, but the slow, daily drip that leads there. From Jamie’s desperation for acceptance to his inability to name feelings beyond anger or defensiveness, to the silent grooming of digital spaces that reward entitlement over empathy - the show becomes an indictment of how patriarchy raises boys, not just how it breaks them. “We didn’t want to excuse him. But we also didn’t want to throw him away,” said co-creator Stephen Graham in a post-Emmys interview. “What we’re showing is that these systems - family, school, internet - are shaping boys into something brittle and dangerous. And often, no one notices until it’s too late.” Holding boys responsible without dehumanizing them Crucially, Adolescence resists the temptation to turn trauma into spectacle. The girl who is killed is not voiceless. The women around Jamie - the forensic psychologist (played with quiet force by Erin Doherty), the female classmates, even the investigating officers - are not caricatures or moral anchors. They’re full people, navigating misogyny in their own right. The show never lets viewers forget that male violence is not an abstraction, but a wound that lands on bodies. And yet, it also doesn’t dehumanise Jamie. This is where the show’s radical empathy lies. It holds grief and accountability in the same breath. That, perhaps, is its most feminist gesture. Why this matters - especially now In 2025, Adolescence feels like a necessary rupture. Around the world, we are witnessing a surge in online extremism targeting boys and men. From the normalization of “red pill” influencers to real-world violence rooted in digital ideologies, the stakes are not hypothetical. They are fatal. In India, the UK, the US, and beyond, conversations around mental health, masculinity, neurodivergence, and social exclusion are gaining traction - and facing fierce backlash. For many young people, there is a painful familiarity in Jamie’s isolation. Many have felt the sting of being “too much” or “not enough,” of having emotions pathologised or dismissed. What Adolescence offers is not a solution, but a starting point: an honest, uncomfortable portrait of how boys are taught to harden. And what happens when they shatter. The power of firsts That all of this comes from a 15-year-old making his first on-screen appearance only adds to the gravity. Owen Cooper’s win is a reminder that talent does not need decades of polish to reveal truth - and that sometimes, young people are the best ones to tell stories about youth. His stillness, his silences, his barely-contained panic - they linger. They speak to a generation of boys caught between who they are and who they’re told to be. “This might have my name on it,” Cooper said, holding the gold statue in his hands, “but it really belongs to everyone who helped me see that stories matter.” What do we do with this story? Adolescence is not easy to watch. But that’s the point. It demands more than passive viewing. It asks us: How are we failing our boys? What happens when shame is louder than love? When the internet becomes a mirror, not a mentor? When emotional repression is rewarded more than repair? And: What kind of world might we build if we raise boys not to fear their softness, but to trust it? For educators, caregivers, advocates, and youth leaders, this is the kind of story that should be screened, studied, and discussed. Not just for its craft, but for its call. Because if we want fewer Jamies in the world, we need more Owens - and more storytelling that refuses to flinch. If this story moved you, share it with your community. Watch Adolescence. Talk to a young person in your life. Start the conversation. And keep it going. Much much relate? Share it now! WhatsApp Facebook X (Twitter) LinkedIn Copy link < Back SHORTS

The actor shares how ADHD and autistic traits helped explain years of masking < Back Media, Neurodiversity, News How fame led Aimee Lou Wood to a life-changing diagnosis The actor shares how ADHD and autistic traits helped explain years of masking MMS Staff 9 Apr 2025 4-min read For many, fame is the destination. For Aimee Lou Wood, it was the turning point. Catapulted into the spotlight with her breakout role in Netflix’s Sex Education, and more recently earning praise for her nuanced performance in Season 3 of The White Lotus, Wood's ascent in the entertainment world has been steady, visible, and — as she now reveals — quietly overwhelming. In a recent interview with The Sunday Times’ Culture Magazine, the British actor shared a deeply personal revelation: she was diagnosed with ADHD and autistic traits several years ago, following her sudden rise to stardom. It’s a moment of vulnerability and clarity that offers a rare window into the hidden cost of fame — and the long journey to understanding one’s own neurodivergent mind. “I got diagnosed a few years ago with ADHD with autistic traits,” Wood said. “But then it's been advised that I should go for an autism assessment. They think that maybe it's autism that's leading the charge, and the ADHD is almost a by-product of the masking.” It’s a telling insight. Masking — the practice of consciously or unconsciously suppressing neurodivergent traits to appear more “typical” — is especially common among women and femmes on the spectrum. For many, it becomes a survival strategy that delays diagnosis and amplifies mental health challenges. For Wood, fame didn’t just accelerate her career — it shattered the mask she had so carefully constructed. I stay at home because I’m scared I can’t handle the overwhelm. While millions adored her onscreen openness as Aimee Gibbs in Sex Education, and rooted for her tender, grounded portrayal of Chelsea in The White Lotus, Wood herself was navigating something far more turbulent behind the scenes. She describes a tendency to avoid overstimulating social events — the afterparties, premieres, or even casual gatherings — not out of aloofness, but because they left her emotionally overloaded. I have resistance to the buzz. I'll stay at home and I won't go to the party because I'm scared that I can't handle my feelings of being overwhelmed. Now that I've started to let it in a bit more, it's like a bender: just do the thing, accept the tiredness, have fun and then process it later. This kind of emotional regulation — or the struggle with it — is a hallmark of both ADHD and autism, especially in people who have gone undiagnosed through childhood. For late-diagnosed women, it often gets mistaken for social anxiety or burnout, until a more holistic understanding of neurodivergence enters the picture. Fame, femininity, and the fight to feel safe in your body Wood also reflected on how sudden visibility reshaped her relationship with her body and identity. After a bold, now-iconic first scene in Sex Education — one that involved nudity and intimacy — the actress began to retreat from her own femininity. I look back and there was so much in the way that I started to desexualize myself. Sometimes you just want to put on a sexy dress and be a siren, but I denied myself that. It’s an experience many neurodivergent people — particularly women — will recognize: the instinct to shrink, blend in, avoid unwanted attention, or regulate how others perceive them. For someone in the public eye, those impulses are only magnified. Chelsea: A character who let her be fully herself Oddly enough, it was in The White Lotus, a show brimming with sharp satire and larger-than-life personalities, that Wood found her safest creative space. Her character Chelsea, the down-to-earth partner of Walton Goggins’ Rick, emerged as a fan favorite not because she commanded attention, but because she didn’t try to. In a resort full of posturing, Chelsea was refreshingly real — awkward, nerdy, unpolished — and that, Wood says, allowed her to drop the act. She's not cool, she's not poised, she's not posing like the others. She's just experiencing. So I can just unmask in a weird way. I actually felt more myself as Chelsea because she was the goofy, nerdy side of me that sometimes I try to suppress. Director Mike White, she says, embraced her rawness. “Don’t be afraid to be unlike everyone else,” he told her. “Unleash the freak.” When diagnosis brings relief, not restriction While Wood’s diagnosis is still evolving — with a full autism assessment pending — she’s already come to understand herself more clearly. The language, the framing, the self-compassion that a diagnosis can bring has given her a way to explain experiences that were previously shrouded in shame or confusion. It’s also a powerful reminder of how many late-diagnosed neurodivergent people — especially those assigned female at birth — go unnoticed until stress, visibility, or sudden life changes bring things to the surface. Wood’s honesty joins a growing wave of public figures, from actors to authors, who are reshaping how we see ADHD and autism — not as fixed checklists of symptoms, but as diverse, nuanced ways of experiencing the world. In an industry where appearances are curated and difference is often hidden, her story is a quiet rebellion. It’s a reminder that behind the glitz, many stars are still figuring themselves out — and that can be the most powerful performance of all. Much much relate? Share it now! WhatsApp Facebook X (Twitter) LinkedIn Copy link < Back SHORTS

Focus Friend helps reclaim attention in an AI-driven world < Back Neurodiversity, News YouTuber Hank Green’s wholesome productivity app hits #1 Focus Friend helps reclaim attention in an AI-driven world MMS Staff 4 Sept 2025 3-min read Last week, something unexpected happened on the App Store. ChatGPT, Google, Threads - all toppled from the top spot. What replaced them? A cozy productivity app where a tiny bean knits you socks if you manage to focus. It’s called Focus Friend, and it’s the brainchild of internet educator, author, and longtime YouTuber Hank Green, developed in collaboration with Boba Story creator Bria Sullivan. Billed as an “ADHD-friendly focus timer,” Focus Friend gamifies attention in a way that feels less like punishment and more like play. And this idea is resonating across the internet, especially with young, neurodivergent, and overwhelmed users craving relief from the pressures of always-on life. How it works: no guilt, just knitting The premise is simple. Set a timer. Don’t touch your phone. Your bean will keep knitting - socks, scarves, you name it. If you cave and check your notifications, the bean drops its needles and loses focus. Just like you. The app rewards consistent focus by letting users trade finished knit items for room decorations, furniture, or new outfits for their bean. Think Tamagotchi meets Pomodoro, with a sprinkle of serotonin. But beyond the game-like appeal, Focus Friend is doing something quietly radical: it’s offering a form of productivity that isn’t shame-based. There are no red Xs. No condescending nudges. No toxic metrics. Just a soft space for people who’ve been made to feel “lazy” or “distracted” all their lives. Designed for ADHD brains Hank Green hasn’t publicly claimed an ADHD diagnosis, but he’s spoken candidly about attention struggles in the past. “People often ask if I have ADHD and, look, I don’t know what I have but, honestly, whatever it is…I think it’s great,” he tweeted in 2021. In that spirit, Focus Friend isn’t limited to people with formal diagnoses. It’s for anyone who finds it hard to concentrate in a world that demands constant attention... and then sells that attention to the highest bidder. As Green explained in a TikTok: “The app is about giving people their time back. It’s about letting people be in control of their attention, not selling their attention to someone else.” No ads. No data collection. No pressure to perform. Instead, users get a quiet, charming space to practice focus, especially in the age of algorithmic doomscrolling and AI-generated everything. A wholesome revolution in a time of tech overload That Focus Friend shot to the top of the App Store, beating giants like ChatGPT, isn’t just a fluke. It’s a signal. We’re burnt out. We’re overstimulated. And we’re desperate for tech that feels human again. Amid the noise of hyper-productivity apps and AI-powered everything, Focus Friend offers a different kind of digital experience, one that’s rooted in care, slowness, and softness. Built on friendship, not extraction Much like Hank and John Green’s other ventures, from Crash Course to Vlogbrothers to VidCon, this app is powered by community not corporate funding. The app is free to use, with optional in-app purchases that allow users to support ongoing development. No paywalls. No subscriptions. Just choice. And for many users, that ethos feels like a breath of fresh air. In a follow-up TikTok, Green explained that while some suggested ads as a way to make money, he pushed back: “I didn’t really want to do that... This app is about helping people focus, not distracting them again.” Why this matters for Neurodivergent and Disabled communities For many neurodivergent folks, especially those with ADHD or executive functioning challenges, traditional productivity tools can feel hostile or defeating. Timers that scold. Task lists that judge. Gamified streaks that break with one bad day. Focus Friend offers a different narrative: you are not broken. Your brain is not the enemy. Focus can be gentle, goofy, and even joyful. That matters. Especially for young people navigating disability, neurodivergence, or just plain burnout in a post-pandemic, AI-saturated world. Attention is a precious thing. And Focus Friend reminds us that we deserve to protect it, not just from the noise of tech, but from the voices that tell us we’re not doing enough. Much much relate? Share it now! WhatsApp Facebook X (Twitter) LinkedIn Copy link < Back SHORTS