Autistic Mythology

“Me debunk an American myth, take my life in my hands?”

So goes the first line of one of my favorite Tragically Hip songs, “At the Hundredth Meridian.” And let me tell you, there aren’t many myths more American than the myth that autism can be cured, much less prevented. (This seems like a good place for a reminder that a crowd called “Cure Autism Now” is one of the component rabbles of Autism Speaks-for-itself, which was founded and headquartered in New York City.) And there is NO myth, American or otherwise, that I’m more committed to debunking, even — or especially — if I’m taking my life in my paws.

Not far from where I used to live in Massachusetts, there was an office building with the words “AUTISM INTERVENTION CENTER” spelled out on its side. The first time I saw this, I frowned, bristled, arched my back and hissed. I asked myself, whence comes this need to “intervene” in the development of an autistic child? Do we feel the need to “intervene” in the development of any other child, or only those who have trouble with communication and self-expression in a manner to neurotypical liking? Seems a little discriminatory, if you ask me.

It strikes me that such “intervention” is meant to alter a child’s growth so they can act more “normal” (though all they’re really doing is learning to hide themselves for self-preservation’s sake). So I will ask again: Why is it necessary to intervene in any child’s growth? Why not just let their development run its course, and better yet, aid it? As the child grows older, observe their progress and take note of what what really interests them, whether it’s mathematics or languages or sciences or maybe even music and theater; and cultivate that which really interests them and help them develop it into a life’s work.

As a matter of fact, for the sake of changing perceptions, I think “aid” is a much more appropriate term than “treat.” Treatment suggests that autism is an illness, and needs to be cured.

Well… *turns on shoddy, skippy vinyl record player* AUTISM IS NOT A DISEASE. As a matter of fact, when it comes to life coaching and skill learning for young autistic people, what say we just stop calling it “treatment” and start calling it “aid”? Seems a lot more appropriate to me. Aiding young autistic people implies that you’re actually HELPING them to track down what they’re best at — hell, there are plenty of non-verbal autistics who excel at math, visual art, maybe even physical activity. And verbal or non-verbal, if they’re provided with the aid and accommodation they need, should they still be treated as something less than human?

Full stop: They never should be treated that way to begin with.

Neurotype notwithstanding, it takes years, but brains grow and change the same as bodies, no matter who they belong to. It’s called “learning.” Learning that something’s drastically wrong with you and everyone is always going to hate your guts unless you behave properly (read: ABA) is not going to teach you anything. Learning that there’s something great you can do and that it’s possible to achieve opens up a much wider, brighter path for your life.

Being treated, in a medical sense, teaches you that you’re ill and broken and need to be taken apart and rebuilt into something you never wanted to be. Being AIDED teaches you that it’s possible to live your life doing something you’re good at. I’m thinking of a fella in southern Massachusetts who made the New England Cable News years ago by being a vastly skilled computer artist and architect. When he gave his interview, he never once looked the interviewer in the eye and he spoke in a hushed, inconspicuous tone, but he made mention of the excellent living he made doing this work he’d been permitted to do because he was good at it – and no one felt the need to “intervene” in his behavior or socialization skills.

If we want to intervene in something, let’s intervene in this NT mentality that all autistic children have to be “cured” or “made better” somehow. Let’s allow autistic youngsters to be themselves, let’s see what they can do… and then, most importantly, let’s step back and let them do it (as long as it isn’t contrary to the just laws of the land). THEN let’s see what kind of world they create for future generations, if they’re just allowed to do what they were put on this earth to do, instead of being forced to waste half their lives on trying to fit in.

There goes the record player again, AUTISM IS NOT A DISEASE.

I think what’s needed here (I’m looking at you, mental health professionals) could fall under the paradigm of Autistic Inclusion. Something whereby we can help all autistic people, both children AND adults, by not trying to “cure” them but trying to aid them in finding their place. Because we all have a place, an important place, a place into which each of us uniquely fits, and the biggest help you can possibly offer is in finding it, filling it and making a positive change in the world.

Autistic Inclusion. Let’s see it done.

Hiding In Plain Sight

Sooner or later, we all traverse this pipeline…

You’re a child. You’re so overwhelmed by the light, the sounds, the expectations, the turmoil the world throws at you from every degree that it crushes you, you either melt down or blow apart. Doesn’t help when people expect you to behave a certain way and your persistent state of overload makes that impossible.

Still, you’re taught that it isn’t acceptable to react that way to being overstimulated. As you gain more experiences of the world, you learn how to avoid some situations and react to others in a way that is “acceptable.” In short, you mask.

But over time, you get so tired of hiding yourself as you try not to be spurned by everyone you meet, you can’t keep a grip… and you start losing the ability to hide, to mask. You may even react to situations the same way in your early 40s as you might have in your early 4s, with overloaded reactions, distressed outbursts, outright meltdowns.

Now, what if we lived in a world where all unusual behavior was acceptable? Where being non-violent, non-aggressive, undistressed and yet not typical was considered just another extension of the human condition? How tiring would that be?

Value in Interest

“Has anyone ever berated you for being “obsessed” with a certain subject or are you neurotypical?”

So read one of the most viral tweets I ever posted. After the massive response to it, something occurred to me about hyperfocus and #ActuallyAutistic people who exhibit it; something concerning that wolf in sheep’s clothing that neurotypicals lovingly call “Applied Behavioral Analysis.”

I thought more deeply about how people react to our “obsessions,” as NTs are more inclined to call them. But then it occurred to me, isn’t that one of the ultimate goals of ABA — to forestall #autistic kids from having “obsessions” that their parents and many NTs object to?

And then I thought, we develop special interests because we tend to hyperfocus on these subjects that fascinate us so. Based on the replies to that tweet, NTs have issues with it mainly because they tire of hearing about these topics after a while. So it wouldn’t at all surprise me if suppressing special interests is a component of ABA. Perhaps one of you poor souls who has endured it can confirm this.

Ah, but if suppressing hyperfocus is heading off a kid’s tendency to have special interests… what’s that doing to their ability to focus overall? How is that affecting their neurodevelopment? Is it positive?

I seriously doubt it. I feel in my fur that such attempts to curtail hyperfocus affect those areas of the brain that control ANY focus. Like, a developed brain, with an occupation (like mine) that requires acute attention to detail, can’t concentrate on the task at paw because it’s been conditioned to think, “oh no, this is wrong, I can’t devote all my attention to this, I have to think about something else!”

We know too well ABA causes mental health problems — this is just another example. And it got me thinking, in point of fact, that maybe it even leads to other neurological conditions like ADHD or executive dysfunction later in life. We know what effect these co-occurring conditions have on our lives, don’t we? As a matter of fact, we end up exposing ourselves to even more abusive treatment when we end up having to take unnecessary medications to manage ADHD, or our executive dysfunction is misinterpreted as laziness, incompetence or outright stupidity.

This is something that I think requires more research as the ABA debate rages on. ABA isn’t necessary; other forms of therapy are, and they should include teaching autistic youngsters the value of their special interests and how they can guide a life.