Autistic Bees

Yes, you read that title right. Researchers looking to prove the sociobiological theories of E. O. Wilson that social behaviors have a deep genetic source have found that socially unresponsive bees have genetic similarities to autistic human beings. Most notably, there were similarities in GABA receptors, voltage-gated ion channels, and heat-shock proteinsheat-shock proteins.

Variations in voltage-gated ion channels are going to affect the speed at which neurons work. This can result in hyperactivation (intense world) or hypoactivation, or even inactivation, if altered.

Heat-shock proteins specifically react to stressful conditions, and many are chaperone proteins (which help guide protein folding and, thus protein function). They are up-regulated during stressful conditions, and given their roles in gene regulation and protein stabilization, it’s not hard to imagine the kinds of detrimental effects changes in these proteins could cause.

The fact that similar differences in similar genes in bees and humans strongly suggests that animal social behavior is deeply conserved. And that means that autistic traits can also emerge in a variety of species when parallel mutations take place.

A Day at Work with Asperger’s

I think it is important that neurotypical people understand how we on the spectrum experience the world.

I’m a substitute teacher and one day last year I went to a high school I would often sub at. When I arrived, they did not give me the class for which I signed up, but had me help in the counselor’s office.

For most people, I suppose, being reassigned when you show up isn’t a big deal. But it is for me. When I saw the fact that I was assigned something other than that which I had chosen, I felt a wave of dread and anxiety. I cannot stand for my expectations not to be met and I do not like things being changed at the last minute. If you want to put me in a bad mood and make me uncommunicative, that’s a great way to do it.

What was worse was that I had to deliver documents to students. That meant going to different classes and having to interact with different teachers. The first thing I did was put the documents in order of room number because the randomness of the order drove me crazy. Then I went from the third floor down to each floor. There were three sets of documents, so I had to visit several class rooms more than once.

I don’t like doing this sort of thing because for one I don’t like interrupting people teaching. And if the door is open, I don’t really know the proper way to announce myself, so I just stand there until someone notices me.

In once classroom a teacher got mad at me because, like I had done in every other classroom, I announced the student’s name for him to get his document. She informed me that I was to hand the document to her and she was to call the student’s name. I told her I was sorry, but nobody had told me I was supposed to do that.

What I really, really, really wanted to say was, “I have a Ph.D. and I have a higher I.Q. than anyone working here and I have to do this ridiculous job because of people like you, so get off my back!”

But I’m pretty sure that would have come across as uncooperative and arrogant.

Instead, I just did as she told me from thereon out. Even though she was the only one to object. Because a confrontation like that–especially one where, because of the social situation I’m in, I cannot actually respond–freaks me out, causes me anxiety, and causes me to go over and over and over the situation that just happened.

The last class period I was put in the In-School Suspension room. There were only four students. When the school day ended, maybe a minute before the bell rang, the students came up and asked me if they could leave. The clock said it was 4:15. I told them they could go. When I left, a vice principal came up to me and asked if the students had left with my permission. I told him yes. He told me I had to keep students from bell to bell. Then he looked at me and said, “Excuse me, do you have a problem with what I just told you?”

I don’t know what look I gave him, but I decided not to try to figure it out. So I told him, “I’m sorry. I have Asperger’s. Whatever look I gave you…”

He shook my hand and sent me on my way. In my head, I thought that apparently my face doesn’t always reflect the content of my mind and heart. He was the first to point it out. I have to wonder how many just went with their interpretation and didn’t confront me and just went away thinking I have a bad attitude. I have to wonder how often a mistaken look has cost me something.

The Language Theory of Mind

Once while watching one of his favorite cartoons, Daniel said to me, “He’s afraid he’s going to get in trouble, but he knows it wasn’t him who did it.”

I’m not sure one could possibly have a better statement of theory of mind: “he knows it wasn’t him.”

For those who think people with autism do not have Theory of Mind, I present that as Exhibit A. After all, it requires ToM to understand that a person/character both knows that someone else thinks he did something, and that he knows he didn’t do what the other thinks he did.

The cartoon in question is slapstick with no language use at all. And yet, Daniel managed to figure out who knew what about whom, including the necessary recursiveness of knowing what he himself had or had not done.

Autistics Proven to Have Empathy

Here’s a little something from the “I told you so” file. It turns out that, as I have argued before in this blog, autistic are hardly cold and unempathetic; quite the contrary, they are very empathetic and deeply moral.

The connection to being deeply moral has already been made in the past, but many have continued to insist autistics are unempathetic. Which would seem odd, given the research that shows a connection between morals and empathy. At the same time, this article continues to insist on “mind-blindness,” although it would be quite odd indeed if one could empathize without theory of mind, as I’ve noted before.

They suggest that around half of people with autism have alexithymia, which is also found in some non-autistic people. People with alexithymia have difficulty understanding emotions, both theirs and others, and this can lead to the perception that they are “cold.” I would also argue that a tendency toward rationality and practicality can also create this perception.

It seems that the study of autism has gone through a stage of creating a ton of misconceptions about the condition, and now we are seeing studies that, to someone on the spectrum, makes much more sense.

Prodigies and Autism

Although not all autistics–or even a majority of autistics–are prodigies, for a long time people have noticed that there is an extremely strong correlation between the two. Thus, it is not in the least bit surprising to me that a connection has been found between autism and child prodigies. It’s not surprising to me because we already know about the “idiot savant,” who as we now know are/were almost all people with autism. The thing that is notable in this study is, of course, that child prodigies seem to have all the advantages of autism with none (or few) of the deficits.

Of particular note is a suggestion for how to treat your autistic child:

When parents of prodigies realize that their child has an extraordinary talent in art or math or astronomy, they understandably try to nurture that talent, even if it seems to border on obsession.

Children with autism also often have obsessions with particular subjects or talents. But because of their troubles communicating and showing emotions, parents often don’t let them follow these obsessions.

Ruthsatz has uncovered a few instances, however, where parents have let their children with autism pursue their passions.

“Instead of focusing entirely on trying to teach the children to speak or to make eye contact, the parents let their child do the thing they love to do, whatever that is,” she said.

“In some cases, the children get excited about their particular talent, they get good at it, and they want to communicate about it. The speech and communication and social skills come along with their growing ability.”

This is treating children with autism as if they were prodigies by focusing on their strengths and ignoring the deficits, she said. In some cases, those deficits become less pronounced as they follow their talents.

While (as noted in the article) this may not work with every autistic child, I would note that absolutely no harm could possibly come from it, it’s almost certainly almost nothing but helpful to a child to allow him/her to be happy (as following their passions makes them), and this might not be all that bad a suggestion for pretty much any child.

Autistic Truth-Telling

If you’re on the autism spectrum, the only thing that matters to you is the truth. Now, you may be wrong about the truth, you may be misinformed or partially informed, but in the end all you care about is the truth.

And that can get you in trouble. Because, let’s face it, nobody actually cares to hear the truth. This is something I know at an intellectual level, but which I keep forgetting when engaged in any sort of practical interaction with people.

Do you have a problem, I want to solve it. Is there a social problem? I want to solve it. And that means facing the truth of the situation. And that can include uncomfortable truths. But most people prefer their comfortable lies, the comfortable lies they tell themselves or at least tell to each other (while secretly telling the truth to a small number of trusted others). And it’s this that autistics have difficulty with. We tell the truth to everyone equally all the time.

This of course results in socially awkward situations. It may even get us fired. It causes social strain among friends and family. And yet, we tell the truth anyway. Not because we don’t care about people’s feelings–we’ll try to fix things if we find out we caused harm–but because we think the truth is what matters. And we often make the mistake of thinking people who say they want to let people know about this or that truth are sincere. And then we make the mistake of spreading the word–words which we are then told should have been kept quiet and private.

There is an old story titled “Rhyming Thomas.” In this story, he is given the “gift” of always telling the truth.  But Thomas argues that he’s actually been given a great curse, since now he’ll have to tell kings and princes and powerful people the truth, and the truth told to them will get him killed. He is thus granted the additional gift of always speaking in rhyme–that is, he’s made a poet–and thus nobody will take him quite so seriously when he speaks the truth.

In other words, maybe I just need to stick to poetry.

Autism, Memory, and Executive Function

Weak working memory is part of the deficit in the “executive functioning” of the brain. The brain’s executive function manages, regulates, and controls many of the brain’s functions, including attention and planning. The working memory holds multiple pieces of information in the mind, to be manipulated. If you have a poor working memory, you will likely have a hard time proving you remember something when you are tested on it. In other words, it may seem that the person has difficulty learning, when in fact the person can learn a lot, but they simply have a hard time demonstrating that knowledge through standard forms of testing.

People on the autism spectrum actually do best when they have an opportunity to demonstrate that knowledge in context. In a conversation, for example, the person will talk about all of the things they know about that given topic. But if you had given that same person a test on the subject instead, they may not be able to recall all of the information in the same way. Especially if demands are being made on working memory, as is often the case with testing. People on the spectrum often have quite good associative memory, verbal working memory, and recognition memory. Recognition memory is what we typically just call “remembering”, also known as recollection memory, and “knowing,” or familiarity memory. Recollection is a slow process, and familiarity is a fast one. Associative learning is learning that takes place in a given context, and is often recalled in a similar context.

In addition to working memory, people on the autism spectrum have problems with temporal order (when things happen in time), source (inability to remember when, where, etc you learned something, while remembering what you learned), and free recall. The latter is, again, central to testing and is not at all indicative of whether or not a child is in fact learning anything. If you require someone to simply recall information in a random way, they can typically do so, unless they are on the spectrum. People on the spectrum typically have to have a stimulus or context in which to remember everything. Then they will spill the beans. And more. There is also a tendency to do better with visual memory and cues than verbal ones. While temporal working memory seems to be impaired, spatial working memory (images, maps, etc) often seems to work better.

Children on the autism spectrum also have to be explicitly taught strategies to recall information, strategies which neurotypical children have naturally. If you want a child to do well on a test, for example, you need to not only teach them information, but teach them how to retrieve the information. People on the spectrum have difficulty with organization and performance skills, but have exceptional abilities to follow rules, so long as the rules are explicitly laid out. You cannot imply the rules or suggest the rules or have unspoken rules—all rules must be explicit, detailed, and clear if you want someone on the spectrum to follow them. And when you do that, they will follow those rules. Also, people on the spectrum have extremely powerful implicit memory. Implicit memory is the ability to remember something or how to do something without conscious awareness of those previous experiences. What this means is that a student, for example, who is on the spectrum and doesn’t seem to be paying attention is in fact learning, gaining information implicitly, which can then be easily recalled later.

The main issue with autism spectrum disorder is the impaired executive functioning, which affects attention, inhibitory control, working memory, cognitive flexibility, reasoning, problem solving, and planning. As you can imagine, these are going to affect school. The autistic student will appear not to be paying attention, will have a hard time inhibiting behaviors and may therefore sometime act inappropriately, will be rigid in her thinking, have difficulty with some kinds of reasoning and problem solving, and have difficulty planning and prioritizing. The child can be taught some of these things and the executive functioning can be developed, but it has to be explicit in the way it’s taught. The more explicit you are about the rules and what you expect from the student, the more the student will learn and behaviors will improve.

Another important element to understand is that the person on the autism spectrum typically has to have things repeated and related to each other to a far greater degree than has to be done for other students. In many ways the autistic brain works in opposite ways from the neurotypical brain. Teaching and testing methods developed for neurotypical students often cannot work well for autistic students. They will show “deficits” where there are really only differences. Teachers need to learn how to teach autistic students, because in many ways everything they are doing is wrong, from the perspective of teaching the autistic brain.

The issue then is that the memory in people on the autism spectrum works and expresses itself differently than it does in other people. The way we test for knowledge and learning, it is not uncommon for us to “find” the student hasn’t learned much of anything or retained much of anything. However, if we test the student in the right way, we will find that they probably have retained far more than the regular student has.

Autism in the Schools — A Personal Narrative

After losing a full time freelance to full time position because the company I was working for learned I have Asperger’s and, as they put it, they had “no intention of accommodating you,” I started substitute teaching for Dallas ISD. Because I live in Richardson, a suburb just north of Dallas, I was restricted, due to travel time, to which schools I can teach at. And through some sort of bizarre set of coincidences, I was somehow only been able to take special education classes — meaning, I was surrounded by autistic children almost every weekday for over half a year.

It was a very eye-opening. I saw and interacted with autistic children in elementary, middle, and high school. And I saw how nobody — not a single special education teacher, not a single teacher’s aide, let alone any of the regular teachers in which some of these students have “inclusion” — has the foggiest idea what to do with these children. I  saw them try to interact (and discipline) autistic children as though they were simply neurotypical children with behavior problems. But this is exactly the wrong way to think of them. Given what we have learned about autistic people, given what we know about why they behave so differently from neurotypicals, one is bound to fail to teach proper behaviors, let alone provide them with the rest of the education they need to receive at their schools. As a result, I have seen in the high schools extremely intelligent young men and women who have not received nearly the education they could have received.

At the elementary school, there was about a dozen students, most of whom had autism. When they would “misbehave,” they would be threatened with moving colors, etc. that are typically used in the schools. These tactics clearly had no effect whatsoever on their behaviors, as they didn’t mean anything to the children. Abstract symbolism don’t mean much to us. Yes, there were picture cards for the students, but the use of those picture cards seemed to be limited at best. Picture cards are necessary for autistic children, but they have to be used constantly and consistently. But more than that, threats upset autistic children, shutting them down, pushing them toward having breakdowns. If you want to change an autistic child’s behavior, you have to use logic and reason — and use it repeatedly. Also, if they are doing something to another child, you have to get them to empathize with the other child to get them to stop what they are doing.

For example, one of the children was poking another in the back. The one being poked was just sitting there and taking it (probably having gotten used to her poking him all the time), but he was obviously annoyed, as anyone would be. I got down on the floor and said to her, “Would you like it if someone poked you like that? Would you like it if someone poked you like that? Would you like it if someone poked you like that?” I tried to get her attention, repeated her name, and kept asking the question. After a while, she finally said, “No.” I said, “Well then, you shouldn’t do that to him if you wouldn’t like it.” And she stopped. And she never did it again — at least, the day I was there.

I was in that class with the special ed teacher’s aide. During recess, the aide asked me, “How on earth are you reaching these kids?” She had never seen anyone change their behaviors so quickly before. Of course, there’s nothing I was doing that I haven’t learned from simply doing research on autism and some of the behavior modifications used. It is nothing anyone out there couldn’t do or learn about. So I told her what I was doing and why I was doing it. It was a complete revelation to her. I gave a brief explanation of what is happening with children with autism, why they acted as they did, etc., which of course ties back in with how to properly teach proper behavior to autistic children.

That same day, toward the end of the day, the same girl got upset and ran to the other side of the room. She threw a tissue box and tried to hide among the pillows in the corner. I went over to her and told her she needed to pick up the tissue box. She of course just withdrew. I had noticed earlier that she liked playing a computer game with a gorilla, so I grabbed a toy gorilla and started talking to her through the gorilla. The gorilla asked her if she wanted to come back to story time and if she would pick up the tissue box. She smiled at me, nodded, and stood up, picked up the tissue box and put it away, and then walked over and sat with the other students and listened to the story. Why did this work? Autistic people are object-oriented, she liked the gorilla game, and I got her to focus on an object she liked and had it talk to her. In other words, I successfully communicated with an autistic child. But few truly understand how to do this.

At one of the high schools at which I used to sub, I taught in all three of the special education classes, which range from classes with students so severely autistic that they are nonverbal and can just barely function at all to talkative, intelligent, humorous students who I wonder why they are not in inclusion classes. There are students who are clearly only in school just to give their parents a break — they won’t be learning anything, and whatever they learn, the won’t be applying outside of school, as they are not going to be holding any sort of job. But those aren’t the students I want to talk about.

The students I want to talk about are those who are together in a special education class that is designed to teach little more than a handful of practical living skills, but who really ought to be in a regular class, because they are definitely intelligent enough to do the work. Many of these students are in fact probably more intelligent than the vast majority of regular students. Why, then, are they not in regular classes? It is because of their “behavioral problems” that have followed them throughout their school years. These have been lucky enough to be identified as autistic, so their behavioral problems were sequestered away in the special education classes rather than the behavioral units (more on that later), but as a result, they have also been sequestered away from a real education. And it is all because nobody understands how to properly modify their behaviors. By the time they reach high school, they haven’t been taught how to properly interact with anyone other than other autistic people — and a dozen frustrated teachers. As a result, we have an army of highly intelligent people who have received no education to speak of and thus will not be able to live up to their full potential. The person who could have been the next Newton may be that socially awkward, “slow” young man or woman who talks funny busing your table before you sit down at the restaurant. That is all they are really being taught to do, and that is a real shame. And it is all because nobody understands how to raise autistic children to be functioning adults.

But, as troublesome as all of this should be to you, I promise you that things can be far, far worse. I know, because I have seen it.

One day I was assigned to a middle school behavioral unit. If you know anything at all about the regular behavior of middle school students, you can only imagine how over-the-top ridiculously bad the behavior of these students had to have been to get them in a behavioral unit. We are talking about repeat offender fighters, kids who take offense at everything and anything and who are convinced that beating the crap out of people is the solution to every problem. In here was one student who — other than cursing like a sailor at the drop of a hat — quietly did all of his school work and played on the computer. He wanted to be left alone to do what he was doing, but of course none of the other students would allow that to happen. They would harass him, turn off his computer, do anything they could to get him riled up and curse at them. A girl in the class, however, would first harass him until he called her a “bitch,” at which point she would get mad and hit him. She hit him four times before she was taken away (by the other adult in the classroom with me the whole time, since there is supposed to be at least two people in there most of the time) to be suspended.

However, there was a time when the other adult had to take three other students away, leaving me with this student and another. The constantly harassed student suddenly came up and started talking to me. The first thing I noticed is that he had an odd way of speaking (odd if you’re not autistic) and seemed a bit awkward. It was obvious to me that he was somewhere on the autism spectrum. He started complaining about the other kids, and I said that if he didn’t like these kids, why was he doing things to get in the behavioral unit? His answer?

“I’ve been in the behavioral unit since I was in first grade. I was put in it after I bit my teacher. I’ve been in the behavioral unit in first grade and second grade and third grade and fourth grade and fifth grade and now sixth grade.”

“You’ve been in the behavioral unit all this time because you bit a teacher in first grade?”

“Well, no . . .”

Well, of course not. But from what I had been witnessing — and what I would witness in the last hour of the day — convinced me that, in a real sense, he was in fact in behavioral units since first grade because he was in one in first grade.

Here is the probable scenario. This kid was/is an undiagnosed autistic. Maybe Asperger’s, but definitely on the spectrum. And definitely prone to meltdowns. His odd behaviors were probably enough of a turn off for his fellow students and teachers, but no doubt they considered his meltdowns to be mere temper tantrums. Meltdowns occur when a stressful situation — or series of them — becomes too much. Meltdowns can appear to be very violent — many autistics will also engage in self-harm, especially if they are not allowed an outlet for their frustration. It would not surprise me if more than a few people have gotten bitten by an autistic child during a meltdown if the adult was intervening wrong. And if the child is undiagnosed, he’s not an autistic child who needs help (but who won’t get the right kind of help because almost nobody understands how to help them), but a serious behavioral problem. So we get a child who gets easily stressed having a meltdown, a teacher who is stressed dealing with it wrong, and therefore get a bitten teacher and a first grader sent off to the behavioral unit.

Of course, the kind of children in the behavioral unit are anything but understanding and kind. They are cruel, bullies, a certain percent are sociopathic, and autistic children are weird and seem to be the perfect victims. So they get picked on, the stress results in violent meltdowns, and the child remains in the behavioral unit. Year after year after year. And the problem is never solved, but is in fact worsened by such an environment.

That is the situation this poor child is in. He’s been placed in a never-ending Hell, all because he’s an undiagnosed autistic. His fate? He has been taken away to the mental hospital twice. And based on his conversation with me, he is very, very, very angry.

So after being picked on all day, he was told at the end of the day to go outside and get his backpack. He didn’t want to, but I talked him into it (which got me cursed out a few times for my effort). He stepped out to see his papers being blown away, the girl who was being suspended for hitting him all day having apparently dumped out his things. And that’s when the meltdown occurred. He began picking up desks and throwing them. Keep in mind that he’s eleven. All of the desks and chairs ended up in a pile in the middle of the room. It was a slow-motion rage — oddly controlled, as he went out of his way to make sure he never threw a chair or desk in such a way that I would be hit by one. And I was close to him the entire time, trying to talk him back.

I never did talk him back. The bell rang, the teachers told me they would take care of it, and I had to pick up my own children from daycare and school. When I walked away, he was outside the portable, banging his head against the metal side. I glanced back one last time to see a chair flying out of the door.

Without a diagnosis of autism, and without parents like us, Daniel could have been that child. That is a sad, terrifying, and infuriating thought.

8 Things to Know When Conversing With an Aspie

Perhaps the most obvious issue people have with Aspies involves communicating with them. I’ve been told that I intimidate people, that I can be embarrassing to those I’m with, and that I’m too aggressive. All of these come from the fact that I have Asperger’s. The way I naturally communicate with people, I often come across as intimidating, arrogant, and aggressive. Those who know me well know better, but those who don’t know me well are likely to leave with a bad impression. Naturally, this is bad for social situations, including employment.

Among the handicaps Aspies have when engaged in conversation is an inability to look people in the eye. If we are far enough away and are looking at your mouth or nose, it looks like we are looking you in the eye when you talk to us, but if we’re much closer, it’s obvious we’re not. Now think about what this communicates to you, if you’re not on the spectrum. If someone doesn’t look you in the eye, you tend not to trust them. That’s a bad first impression, and the Aspie hasn’t even opened his or her mouth yet.

But that’s not the only problem with the eyes. Our peripheral vision is on equal par with our centered vision, meaning things around us catch our attention. While you’re talking to us, it’s not uncommon for us to look around, glance at other people and at things. It appears that we’re not paying attention, but in fact we are paying you attention — we hear everything you say, and we’ll respond to it.

Our visual egalitarianism also extends to our hearing. As a result, we hear everything around us at equal volume, while you neurotypicals can focus your hearing on the speaker. This means that your voice can be drowned out, meaning we may ask you to repeat yourself. This can be interpreted as us not paying you proper attention — being rude — when in fact you just got drowned out by whatever sounds there are in the room. Now, imagine you are in a situation in which you hear everything at the same volume. You would probably assume everyone else does as well (since you extrapolate others’ experiences from your own), meaning you would likely talk in a louder voice. If I end up talking too loud to you, that is why. Also, all of that noise can be overwhelming to us. So do not be surprised if, at least occasionally, we seek a quiet place to let things settle down in our heads.

Of course, all of this requires that we have actually engaged in a conversation in the first place.

If we’re introduced, I may or may not greet you. If you greet me first, or if whoever is introducing us is explicit that we’re being introduced, I’m fine. But any ambiguity will leave me just standing there.

Also, I don’t engage in small talk. I certainly won’t initiate it, and my contributions to small talk will be minimal. I don’t engage in chitchat for the sake of chitchat, and I’m not likely to engage in much gossip, either. If the topic doesn’t interest me, I don’t pretend to be interested. But if the topic does interest me . . . then we have a whole other set of problems.

If you say something to me–ask me a question or greet me or say goodbye–odds are it will take me a second or two to process what has been said to me and to then process a proper response. I’ve had people in that time I’m taking tell me that someone was speaking to me. I knew they were speaking to me, and I was processing the statement and an answer to that statement. At the same time, given the fact that I may not have noticed I was being addressed, it also helps if someone points out to me I’ve been addressed. Even knowing this, the former is annoying to me in the moment, though my knowledge of the latter dissipates that annoyance.

If I am given a platform on which I can speak at length on a topic of interest to me, I’m in my perfect environment. I am full of information on that topic, and I can go on and on and on and on and on and on and on about it. It will be less of a conversation than a lecture. If you are a sincere fellow traveler in the search for truth, you and I will have a blast together. If not, I’m afraid I don’t suffer fools very well.

Also, it is very important that you don’t be wrong. If you are wrong about something and I know it, you may rest assured that I will interrupt what you are saying to correct you. I cannot stand not to correct someone immediately, because I know that if you start with a false premise, everything you are getting ready to say is going to be wrong. To my mind, why on earth would you want to waste your time developing a false argument on false premises? I wouldn’t. I actually like being corrected when I am in fact wrong. And it bothers me when I am not corrected when I am wrong.

A good example of this involved my sister-in-law, who was a music major in college. She was with me when I was talking to a friend about music, and I was getting the difference between 3-4 and 4-4 all wrong. She let me go on and on, misinforming this guy, and then only told me I was wrong after my friend left. I asked her why she didn’t correct me — after all, she was the music expert. More, I figured if she wasn’t correcting me, I was right in what I was saying. Worse, there was now someone else out there as misinformed as I had been, and it was my fault. Given that I would welcome correction on points of fact, I have a hard time understanding why others wouldn’t. At the same time, I have come to understand that my sister-in-law was being polite in not correcting me in front of my friend, because politeness is an important social virtue. Being right rarely ever is. It is perhaps not surprising that Aspies fall short of the social virtues, even if we do tend to be deeply moral.

Finally, you will discover that I have a tendency to interrupt to say what I need to say. There are a few things going on with that behavior. One, I interrupt because I’m afraid I will forget what I’m going to say. And I have a great deal of experience to back that up. Two, the feeling I get when I cannot say what I need to say when I need to say it is equivalent to if you were trying to tell me something, and I kept interrupting you before you could get three words out — and I kept doing it and doing it and doing it. At what point would you interrupt me and talk over me? The problem is that I have that feeling immediately upon having something to say. And all too often I act upon it. Naturally, this is interpreted as being rude and arrogant.

For those of you who have engaged me in conversation, you probably recognize every single one of these traits. Social media no doubt tempers or eliminates many of these, and exacerbates others. So if you find yourself in conversation with someone and they are exhibiting all of these traits, they are not being an arrogant asshole — at least, not on purpose — rather it’s quite likely you are talking with an Aspie. Have patience with us. And don’t be afraid to take us aside and point it out when we are doing some of these things. It is natural for us to do them, but it’s not impossible for us to — at least occasionally — temper some of our own extremes.

Autism Is Not a Behavioral “Problem”

One thing people do not seem to get when it comes to people on the spectrum is that they literally cannot help certain behaviors, and they do not necessarily respond the same way as regular children or adults do to given situations or requests, depending on how they are delivered. To expect them to do so would be equivalent to expecting a blind student to look at you when you speak to her, or a deaf child to listen up or a man in a wheelchair to walk over to you. There is a tendency to think that the issues surrounding people on the spectrum are “simply” behavioral; however, there is a powerful underlying neurology that affects that behavior and the way they interact with the world and other people.

As a consequence, the situation in our schools is, for those of us who understand what is really going on with autism, absurd. We expect autistic children to simply change their behaviors. However, if there were a deaf child, do you think they would refuse to have someone who could do sign language to communicate, but insist that she listen like all the other students? For similar reasons, it is important to understand that there is far more to autistic people than meets the eye, and dealing with them does in fact require training. That training is lacking in a variety of institutions, in schools across this country, including in special education — I have seen the lack. But that lack needs to be remedied.

Take for example the issue of meltdowns, which are unfortunately not uncommon among people on the spectrum. If you are having a meltdown, you have no control over your behavior whatsoever. This is an unfortunate feature of children with autism, especially younger children. It occurs when they get stuck on something and/or are completely overwhelmed in sensory and social input. This is a feature of autism which many children grow out of, but which some do not. Meltdowns occur when a child is in a situation in which he feels so overwhelmed and threatened by his environment that becomes overwhelmed. This is not an intentional behavior problem. There is nothing intentional in meltdowns.

A meltdown should not be mistaken for a temper tantrum, as the latter are an intentional way for the child to get what he or she wants, while the meltdown comes about from a distressing situation. They can often be mistaken for tantrums because there is typically some object of focus involved. To understand what is happening, you have to think about what happens when there is positive feedback in a sound system. The sounds gets louder and louder until it becomes a deafening screech. The same thing is happening in an autistic meltdown. This is a feature of autism, and it cannot be punished. What must happen is the distressing situation must either be avoided or the person has to be prepared for it.

If someone is having a meltdown, you cannot control having that meltdown, since it is a feature of autistic physiology. Unlike with a tantrum, a meltdown should not be punished, as it makes as much sense to punish someone for something completely out of their control as it would be to punish a deaf person for refusing to listen. Yet, these are seen as “behavioral problems” all too often.

These sorts of problems arise when the adults do not have the training they need to deal with an autistic child, to ensure they are not overwhelmed and so they understand how to deal with things like meltdowns. Our son, for example, is also hyperactive, and as a result he has a hard time sitting still. In a school environment, it is expected that the children sit still for long periods of time. However, Daniel simply cannot do this — at least, not without giving him something that will keep his mind busy in place of his body. Understanding the nature of autism would go a long way toward helping educators deal with autistic children and help them to get a good education.

Fortunately for Daniel, his mother and I understand these things, and we plan to fight to make sure Daniel is treated well. Don’t get me wrong. There are plenty of behaviors we don’t put up with. But we also know how to deal with them and how to get Daniel to stop them. Repetition and logic work best for Daniel. And talking him into empathizing with the person, if he’s aggravating someone else. But nobody knows these things, including most special education teachers. I have seen plenty trying to treat autistic children like regular children, and they inevitably fail to get the desired results. All because, although (if we include Asperger’s and autism, as the DSM-V does) around 2% of the population is on the spectrum, it seems that nobody really knows anything at all about it. That is something that needs to change. That is something I intend to change.