chaoticidealism (![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} chaoticidealism) wrote,@ 2009-10-14 15:02:00 |
|
| Entry tags: | autism, communication |
Psychology Today: "Cowboy & Wills"
Yesterday at the library I was goofing off instead of doing physics homework, and happened upon the latest issue of Psychology Today. Lo and behold, an article on autism. It's a cute little story about an autistic kid who loves animals; and for a change said kid is in the majority who has got the hang of language. That's a good sign, in general, and the article itself isn't bad. But it contains one little annoying phrase that's pretty high on my peeve-o-meter; and the result is this letter to the editor.
Two Minute Memoir: Cowboy and Wills
I read "Cowboy and Wills" with great interest; and part of the reason is that I'm an autistic animal-lover myself. There are a lot of us--not surprisingly, since animals allow for such safe, non-threatening social interaction. However, I was a little troubled by a popular misconception that was sprinkled through the article. The idea that one must pull an autistic child out of "his own world" seems to have become so prevalent that people don't think about it when they say it. The truth is, there's no need to pull anybody anywhere; it's just a matter of teaching. We are already in your world. Autistic people see the world and other people just like anyone does. We're very much present in the world; in fact, in most cases we notice more about it--all the little details most people filter out. The problem isn't a matter of being closed off in our own worlds, but of having difficulty understanding and communicating with other people. When you look at us and can't see what we're thinking or feeling, it's a communication issue, not a lack of presence. Sometimes, when I'm exhausted by the noise and smell and unpredictability of the world, I do withdraw. Having to constantly interact with people is difficult and stressful for me. But "my own world"--you have your own mental world, too, just like I do--isn't a frightening place in which I'm trapped. It's simply the act of relaxing, getting away from the need to socialize constantly. Without it, I'd be unable to function--and when I'm allowed to have my own space, away from the demands of life, I can use it as a safe home base from which to reach out to others. What happened with the little boy in the article is what should happen with every autistic child: He is given a welcoming environment and surrounded by people who help him to say what he is thinking and show what he is feeling. Gradually, he learns how to connect with other people--something which, if he is like most of the autistic people I know, he has been wanting to do all along. |
