Non-Verbal Communication and Autism — Some Personal Consequences

Autism is considered to be a communication disorder. It is of course much more than that, and the definition of dis-order depends on one’s standard of order, but in a world dominated by neurotypicals, our differences are considered to be disorders. And given the consequences, we might as well call them that.

When we think of a communication disorder, we are typically thinking of language as communication. However, much human communication is non-verbal, and here autistic people face a number of hurdles as well.

It was a few years ago when I came to understand the degree to which this is true in a recent situation in which I was being correctly redirected to do something other than what I was doing. When the person redirected me, I realized she was right and that I should be doing something else, so I immediately complied. A bit later, though, she asked me if it annoyed her that she had redirected me.

When I am concentrating on something–as I was in this case doing–I tend to get “in the zone.” If you do or say something to get me out of the zone, I feel immediately annoyed. I cannot help it, but I can often get over is as immediately as I feel it. What I didn’t realize is that I also showed that annoyance on my face. Which is just as immediate and something I can’t help.

Now imagine that I have been doing this all my life. Which I have. Without realizing it. Which I have. How do you think people will react to me? Or think of me?

For my regular readers, you may remember that this is not the first time this has happened to me where my attention was drawn to the look I was giving.

But I do have to wonder how many times something has gone awry because I was giving a look that I was unaware I was giving.

This just ends up on my growing list of things I seem to have to tell people about me so they won’t misunderstand my words, actions, and now facial expressions. Meaning I’m almost certainly going to have to always tell everyone I’m on the spectrum just to create the conditions under which I’ll be less likely to be misunderstood. Meaning I’ll get all the fun and pleasure of being directly discriminated against when people know I’m on the spectrum.

So those are the choices: open discrimination against me for being on the autism spectrum or have people decide they don’t like me because of my “attitude.” I’ve decided to take my chances with the former.

Long Pauses

Processing speeds in people with autism is typically slow. It can take a few moments to process what has been said to us, then we have to process the (hopefully) appropriate response, and then we respond to what was said to us.

Imagine you are at a party and you are introduced to someone. If you are neurotypical, you respond almost immediately. There is no pause.

However, if you’re on the spectrum like me, it may take around three seconds to respond. Coincidentally, the shorter-term/working memory slot is about three seconds in duration. That’s the time it takes to both process what was said and how I should respond. And in that time, I’ve probably been nudged by the person I’m with to respond to the greeting.

Of course, these long pauses are perceived as either uncomfortable pauses or, if you’re nudged, as your having ignored the greeting. Neither of which really help one appear “social.” It’s another way we are perceived as being socially awkward.

Should You “Act Normal” During a Job Interview?

As you can probably well imagine, someone who is socially awkward, who has social anxiety, and communication problems of various sorts isn’t going to do well in a job interview. Think about the issue of eye contact. This article lists 8 reasons someone might not make eye contact with you. Here’s the short version:

  1. Social anxiety
  2. They like you
  3. They aren’t interested in what you’re saying
  4. You aren’t very visually appealing
  5. Low self-esteem
  6. They are hiding something
  7. They are having a bad day
  8. They don’t want to come across as flirty

Now isn’t that a delightful list? The first one comes closest to saying “because you’re autistic.” Most people interpret lack of eye contact as being at least 6 or 3. Can you imagine how your interview is going if the interviewer(s) are thinking you aren’t interested in what they are saying, or that you’re untrustworthy? It’s just as bad if they think you’re not looking at them because you think they’re ugly. And who wants a potential sexual harassment suit (2 and 8), or want to hire someone with low self-esteem?

Of course, we can learn we need to make and maintain eye contact, but then we get into the issues of not actually knowing how to do so properly and thus run the risk of staring or making the interviewer uncomfortable. So that may seem like a solution, but it may not in fact be one.

To many think that if they tell an autistic person they just need to be trained to interview, that that will solve the problem. But that’s essentially telling them that they need to be taught not to be autistic while they’re being interviewed. Even if that were possible (some of us can fake it long enough to get through an interview), what happens when you get the job?

If we could simply learn to not act autistic, we probably all would have done so by now–at least, during work hours. But when you ask us to not “act” autistic, you are asking us to stop being natural in our behavior. And I’m not talking about excusing bad behavior. It’s not “natural” to be a rude little jerk. And I’m not talking about mere cultural or subcultural differences. I’m talking about complaining that your cat isn’t acting like your dog. That being the case, let me ask my neurotypical readers something: why not learn to act autistic? Try it for even an hour. See how well it goes. See how it feels.

Of course, asking us to try to act normal during an interview is just a subset of the larger problem of people thinking we can act normal if we just wanted to do so. We act the way we act because it’s normal according to our neural structures and neurochemistry. Those elements inform the way anything with a nervous system behaves, which is why there is such a wide variety of behaviors in nature. Are gorillas or orangutans inferior chimpanzees because they don’t behave like chimpanzees? Or might they have different neural structures, resulting in different behaviors? Even more obviously similar to the situation I’m talking about would be the differences between chimpanzees and bonobos. Only the specialist can tell these species apart, but their behaviors are completely different. A chimpanzee among bonobos would appear to be “socially awkward,” to say the least.

Further, asking us to fake it during the interview only delays the problem. How are you helped if you get a job with people expecting one set of behaviors, then finding out they are getting someone with completely different behaviors? And this of course ignores the issues of when and if one should disclose being autistic.

I know people think they are being helpful when they make these suggestions, but the problem is that these issues are much more complex than simply doing well in an interview. Quite frankly, if we could just disclose up front without any negative consequences, and be accepted for who we are and how we behave, most of our social anxieties would disappear, and we’d actually be much more delightful to work with.

On (Not) Getting Disability When You Have the Hidden Disability

Over the past several months, I have been trying to get Disability from Social Security. Today I have been denied for the second time. Let me quote the most recent rejection letter:

You said you are disabled because of autism, aspergers, hip displasia, flat feet, anxiety, sensory integration disorder, and memory loss. However, your current symptoms are not severe enough to be considered disabling.

Apparently being unable to stand for long periods of time because of ever-increasing pain from flat feet, being unable to do physical labor because of constant and ever-increasing pain from hip displasia, being diagnosed with general anxiety disorder by the psychologist they sent me to, and all of the issues associated with autism/Asperger’s, including short term memory loss issues and sensory integration disorder, doesn’t make you disabled.

Those who have been following this blog know many of the problems I have had with getting and keeping jobs. If I even get a job after the interview, I cannot seem to hold on to it for long. Literally, the longest I ever had a job was a little over a year and a half. I had two such jobs. One of them I left because I was moving from Hattiesburg, MS to Dallas; the other was at UNT-Dallas, where my contract wasn’t renewed.

All of the problems I have had with remaining employed have stemmed from my autistic behaviors. The problem is that, if autism is a hidden disability, it seems to be so hidden with me that for the longest time very few people, except those who knew me very, very well, would even believe I as on the spectrum When you meet me, I’m often articulate, I can be charming under the right conditions, I’m highly educated (Ph.D.), and I’m highly intelligent. I can fake it for a fair amount of time. Enough for many to think I’m merely a little introverted.

The problem is what happens over the long term, or if I’m not in ideal conditions. If it’s too loud, too bright, too crowded, I start to feel overwhelmed. My anxiety–which I have learned really never goes away, but only waxes and wanes like the tides–increases, and as my anxiety increases, I become increasingly irritable. Over time, you will see me “goofing off,” which really means I’m writing something down to get it out of my head so I can continue to concentrate on work. But of course, you can’t do anything non-work-related on company time (except gossip, of course, which I don’t do and which takes up far more time than it did for me to write the one line of poetry I needed to get out), so I get in trouble. What they don’t realize is that I’m actually doing what I need to do to ensure I can dedicate the maximum amount of time and concentration to work. But how do you explain that to anyone?

The letter I received goes on to state that

Although you said you have various limitations caused by your symptoms, the evidence does not show that your ability to perform basic work activities is as limited as you indicated. We do not have sufficient vocational information to determine whether you can perform any of your past relevant work. However, based on the evidence in file, we have determined that you can adjust to other work.

I find all of this very curious. And it indicates there is something wrong with the way disability is determined, such that autism is almost always going to be discounted as disabiling. The fact of the matter is that my “ability to perform basic work activities” such as editing, proofreading, and writing is not limited at all. I can do that kind of work, and likely similar work, such as data entry.

But work isn’t just “show up, do your work, leave.” If work were like that, the unemployment rate among all but the most severely autistic would be 0%. Rather, depending on how it’s measured, the unemployment rate among autistics is 20%-80%–the latter for all autistics, and 20% for people who are “mildly” autistic. Why is that? It’s because work is primarily social, and when the requirements of employment are being able to be social and not be “socially awkward” that autistics face high unemployment.

My disability only becomes apparent over time, and few would even recognize it as “disability.” It gets interpreted as inattentive, goofing off, having a bad attitude, and sometimes even lazy (I was always working on projects growing up and was always told I was lazy). Each of these are neurotypicals misinterpreting the way I think and behave. In other words, my disability is only invisible to the degree that non-autistics misinterpret my expressions and actions. And even if I tell them what to expect, can we really expect them to always remember not to interpret my interactions with them through the same lenses they use for practically everyone else?

In other words, how can I get Disability if my disability is invisible? How can I get Disability if the people who are giving it out don’t really believe it’s a thing, but is just made up, is just problems with your “personality,” or whatever else they may believe when faced with someone who behaves as I do?

And I know it’s not just me. My guess is that most autistics face these issues on a daily basis, and not just when it comes to work. But where are the advocates for us? I know there are advocates out there, but I’m talking about public advocates, someone people know, out there talking about these things.

Here is where my articulateness, intelligence, and education may be able to come in handy. I’m actually a good public speaker. Perhaps, if I could find the right venues, I could use these very traits that make me an even more invisible member of the invisible disability bring greater visibility to these very issues.

Unless someone does this, how much of a chance do we have to thrive in this world?

 

Autistic Bonding

Friday, when a family friend was over, Daniel asked our friend to watch Nausicaa with him. So we arranged for Daniel to visit our friend’s house Saturday so they could watch the movie together. Anna tried to make it very clear to our friend just how important watching this movies was for Daniel, because for Daniel the two of them watching the movie together was a bonding moment (or bonding 2 hours, more or less). Daniel was showing he cared by sharing his favorite movie with our family friend.

This is also something I do. For me, sharing something I like is a primary way I bond. If you want to bond with me, I recommend reading Oedipus and Antigone by Sophocles, Atlas Shrugged by Ayn Rand, The Unbearable Lightness of Being and The Book of Laughter and Forgetting by Milan Kundera, Time, Conflict, and Human Values by J.T. Fraser, and The Culture of Hope by Frederick Turner. Each of these have been central to my thinking and aesthetic. I may not agree with everything each author says or believes, but that’s not the point. My love of tragedy, the realization that one could use fiction to investigate ideas, the depth and breadth of styles that could go into fiction, and the ideas that helped form my world view and aesthetic (respectively, by author) are important to me. And if I’m important to you, I think they should be important to you. Or you should have at least read them all.

Of course, the same could be said of my favorite films, including Casablanca and Rear Window, or my favorite T.V. shows. Watching a T.V. show together, having a shared attention, is important to me–just as it is for Daniel.

I suppose this is part of our autistic object-orientedness. I can also bond over orchids, though honestly, I’ve probably forgotten half of what I used to know about them. But you never know–get me talking (as Daniel has about sharks), and I might surprise us both with what I remember. More likely, I’ll talk to you about self-organizing network processes and emergent order. Most people bond over people and relationships; we bond over objects and ideas. While T.V. shows and movies may seem common ground, you may find that our idea of bonding over a favorite movie is a bit more intense than what you’re used to. But understand that that intensity comes from wanting to connect with you through our common interest. That’s just how we do it.

Connecting and Communicating on the Spectrum

If you have a verbal child on the spectrum–or adult, for that matter–you are likely familiar with the phenomenon of obsessive interests, and the seemingly intense need for the autistic person to share everything they learned right this very minute. And Heaven help you if you’ve been away a while while they have been learning about their interests, because you’ll be sure to be bombarded with information the moment you see them.

Now, before I address what is going on, I want to make a point by addressing my autistic readers (neurotypicals: keep reading, because this is really mostly for you).

Austistics, if you have a neurotypical person in your life, you are likely familiar with the phenomenon of that person coming home and wanting to share with you everything they did that say and every social interaction they had. While you couldn’t care less about any of that stuff, you need to understand that those things are important to them. They think sharing such information is an appropriate way to create social bonds. While we bond over knowledge, designs, and ideas, they bond over gossip and complaining about what other people do. That is their passion, and that’s what they get excited and emotional about. So please be patient with them about their interests. It may seem silly or superficial to you, but it’s not to them. So let them have their say; don’t try to solve their problems (they hate that and only want to express themselves), even though you will likely come up with a clear and obvious solution; and try to at least feign interest by acknowledging them, asking questions, and demonstrating empathy for their position. The best course, too, is to take their side no matter what, even if it’s clear to you that they are in the wrong, or could be wrong–especially close friends and spouses, coworkers and bosses. Remember, they only want you to listen and take their side; anything else will offend and upset them.

If you do not have autism, this is how you appear to us. You think it’s ridiculous to talk about the application of complex network theory to understanding the economy, designing better slaughterhouses, or blowing up the Death Star, the behaviors of basking sharks, or what happened in Nausicaa (Daniel’s latest obsession); we think it’s ridiculous to talk about what Bob did to Sally at work, that George is having an affair with his boss, and that Mary is being mean again.

The point is that we’re both wrong; neither is in fact ridiculous; both are vitally important to the person; each is desperately trying to connect to the other through their interests. Neurotypical people are primarily interested in people; autistic people are primarily interested in things and ideas. Autistic people, by sharing their interests, are trying to make a connection with you. They are trying to be social. They’re not being social wrong, they are being social different. And when you rebuff them, you discourage them from trying to be social and you hurt their feelings. They then retreat into themselves and are less likely to try to be social in the future.

At the same time, if we were to treat the way you connect the same way, you would consider us to be anti-social, rude and arrogant. In fact, we are often considered to be all these things. This is reinforced by the fact that what we want to bond over is typically intellectual, nerdy, and/or geeky. You think our interests are stupid and annoying, and we feel the same about yours. But it is we who have to adapt.

In short, it is the responses and reactions of neurotypical people to our attempts to bond that contribute as much as anything to any sort of unsocial behavior. When our family sits at the dinner table together and Daniel wants to tell us something, we express interest in the topic, asking questions or otherwise contributing to the topic at hand. As a result, Daniel has been talking more and more. And he’s grown more interested in us as a result. Imagine that! We express interest in him, and he expresses interest in us.

Neurotypical people develop their identities through their interpersonal social networks; autistic people develop their identities through their interests. They identify with their work and interests, meaning if you dismiss their topic of conversation, you are dismissing them personally. That, at leas,t is how we interpret it. It is similar to if someone told you that your friends were all stupid and hateful and they didn’t understand why you would like those people. My guess is that you would distance yourself from that person. Because when they insult your friends, they insult you. For us on the spectrum, our obsessions are our friends. We listen to you talk about your friends; we only ask you listen as we talk about ours.

So that’s why we on the spectrum want to share our interests. It’s how we try to bond with you. In addition to that, we want to share when we want to share because what we want to say is present to mind. That means we can remember everything and communicate it well. If you make us wait, we may not remember in that moment, and it’s likely we will have to search for everything we wanted to say. That means we’ll be full of long pauses, uncertainty, and frustration. Frustration you will probably share since you don’t understand why we’re so hesitant now when we were so enthusiastic before. You need to understand that when the moment passes, it is impossible to recover. And we’ll be likely to forget half our points even as we know we forgot half our points, making us more frustrated–and more determined next time to get it all out.

So now you know why it is that we on the spectrum want to talk about the things we want to talk about, and why we feel such an urgency to do so. Part of the urgency is the way our memory works, but part of it is the same kind of urgency you feel in wanting to tell your friends and loved ones about what the other people in your life did. And that’s something we should both be able to understand.

Progress in Language Skills

Recently Daniel has been showing the degree to which he has been making progress in his language skills. Two areas in which he has shown improvement have been the initiation of conversations and the use of figurative language–two areas typically difficult for those on the spectrum.

Anna’s mother recently had a surgery, and we had talked about it a little bit around the house. When Anna’s mother came up for Thanksgiving, as soon as she sat down upon arrival, Daniel went up to her and asked her about her surgery, and then told her he was happy she was doing better. This was the first time Daniel had ever initiated a conversation. It wasn’t the first time he started talking to someone–but simply starting to talk to someone isn’t the same as properly initiating a conversation. Daniel will ask you questions about sharks or Star Wars or planets, but he’s not going to ask you about how your day went or, well, pretty much anything at all about you. So him asking his grandmother how her surgery went–and doing it on his own–was major.

The other one happened yesterday. I was having the kids clean up their rooms and the toys scattered throughout the house, and finally Daniel decided he was finished. He announced that if he continued cleaning, in 5 minutes he would blow up. I told him I wanted to see that, so keep cleaning for 6 minutes. He said, “I’m not going to actually blow up. It’s like saying I’m hungry enough to eat an elephant. If I did that, I’d die. Like the old lady who swallowed the horse.” I told him, “Oh, then, since you were just being hyperbolic, keep cleaning.” He gave a huge groan–which he does any time you “got” him–and he finished cleaning.

The significance here, of course, is that he not only used metaphorical language–hyperbole is of course metaphorical–and use it correctly, but was able to explain it. That doesn’t mean he’s now going to get that people are being metaphorical and will no longer stop taking people literally (I’m a poet, playwright, and fiction writer, dealing with metaphors all the time in my reading and writing, and I still take people literally when I shouldn’t), but he’s on the way to doing it less often. It’s important to understand that people don’t always “mean what they say” in this sense.

Daniel receives a variety of special education services at his elementary school, Arapaho Classical Magnet, including speech. A good speech teacher and a good special education program in general will get results, and I think we’re seeing some of those results in Daniel’s development of these skills. After all, among the foci of his ARD is being able to initiate conversations. That’s not something I have tried to work on with him, though I have tried to help him with non-literal language (something I’m better with because of my being a language artist, while I still struggle with initiating conversations outside of bombarding you with my interests). So I’m glad at the progress his teachers have made with him, and I think it’s important to give credit when it’s due. After all, our first instinct often seems to be to just complain when something goes wrong–and perhaps we need to focus more on giving credit when something goes right.

Why I Am an Expert in Autism

I do not have a degree in psychology or neuroscience with a concentration in autism. So what, then, makes me an expert in autism?

First of all, not having a degree in something doesn’t make one an expert–or prevent you from being an expert. There are plenty of ignorant fools with Ph.D.s. And while I wouldn’t want to go so far in describing most neurotypial experts in autism, I would have to insist that there is a certain degree in which they are necessarily and irrevocably ignorant, and that is in understanding autism from the inside, in how it’s experienced. Interpreting behaviors without understanding the inner experiences that lead to those behaviors will often lead you to the wrong conclusions.

A favorite wrong conclusion is that autistics don’t have a theory of mind. This is something which I have written about before and refuted. In fact, it we autistics could posit that because neurotypicals didn’t think like us, they didn’t have a theory of mind. Yes, I often don’t know how you’re thinking or why you’re doing something, because it would have never occurred to me to do or think that way. For the longest time I simply thought everyone else was simply stupid and irrational. Since I found out I am on the spectrum, I’ve come to realize everyone else’s thinking is normal and it’s mine that is on the long tail. That is, neurotypical people think in neurotypical ways, and I think in autistic ways, and some of those ways overlap, and some of them don’t, and that’s okay.

But how does any of this make me an expert in autism. Well, an expert is simply someone who knows a lot about a subject. I have done a great deal of research on autism–and you need to keep in mind that my idea of research is formed by my degree in biology and my Ph.D. in the humanities. I don’t just read a few popular books on autism, but rather have read a great many scientific articles on it. I would be willing to put my knowledge and understanding of autism up against anyone with a Ph.D. who studies autism. More than that, because of my expertise in complex network processes, I can bring that knowledge to their knowledge and expand on it–as I indeed have. More, I can take all of this data and interpret it through my own experiences, explaining what the data really means.

Many people desperately need the kind of information I can provide from my expertise. Scientists who study autism certainly do, because I think a great many misunderstandings about autism are promulgated because a behaviorist approach is being taken to study autism. Special Education teachers especially need to understand their students from my perspective. Perhaps especially those who are dealing with nonverbal students.

For example, I have been substitute teaching lately, and I almost always pick the SpEd positions. Which keeps me working. Of course, these positions are always with either a teacher or a paraprofessional in the classroom, so I am really mostly backup for the person who knows what they’re doing with that classroom. Taking these positions means I have gotten to observe students across the spectrum as well as what happens in SpEd classrooms up close and personal. While everyone working in the SpEd classes I’ve been in are doing their very best, their very best does not have a foundation in a real understanding of their students–perhaps especially their autistic students.

A recent example of this involved a non-verbal autistic girl at a high school. The teacher (I was subbing for the paraprofessional) said she thought the girl should get her hearing checked because when she was watching a video on the computer with the headphones on, she would always turn the volume way up. I pointed out that autistic hearing is actually backwards to neurotypical hearing. For a neurotypical person, the brain turns down the volume on background sounds in order to hear the foreground sounds better. This is sort of the very definition of focus.

With autistic hearing, there is no distinction between background and foreground–and often, we hear the background better than the foreground sounds. To hear the TV when everyone is at home and making noise, I have to turn the TV up to around 80 (out of 100), but when everyone is in bed and there’s no noise whatsoever in the house, I can hear the TV perfectly at 23. Daniel’s hearing is so sensitive that, when he was around 4-5 years old, he would cry that he couldn’t go to sleep because he could hear the airplanes overhead. While we live in the Dallas metroplex, we don’t live anywhere near either of the airports. You wouldn’t hear them.

Once I explained these things to the teacher, she understood what was going on. And she further told me that that explained a few other things, though she didn’t go into detail about those other things with me. Indeed, understanding the autistic experience of the world does go a long way to explaining many of our behaviors. Those experiences are fairly universal, even if they are on a spectrum. But if you understand even the cases that don’t result in someone who is non-verbal and not potty trained as an adult, you will understand many of the behaviors of those at the most extreme end of the spectrum.

So yes, I am an expert in autism. I am the kind of expert people ought to be searching out precisely because my expertise isn’t just academic, but equally experiential as well.

What Is Executive Functioning?

You have probably read somewhere that one of the main features of autism is weak executive functioning. But how many of you really understand what executive functioning actually is? And how does it explain some of the features of autism?

The purpose of the executive functioning of the brain is to prevent all thoughts from coming to the surface and being expressed. As a result, a great many of your thoughts–perhaps most of your thoughts, never come to consciousness. Others sort of exist on the periphery, but never get expressed or said. Your executive function allows you to be social precisely to the degree that it censors you even before the thoughts are made conscious.

You can think of “thoughts” in the following ways: there are

  1. Thoughts you don’t have
  2. Thoughts you have but are censored by the executive functioning before they come to conscious awareness
  3. Thoughts you have but censor consciously
  4. Thoughts you say

If you are wondering what the difference is between 1. and 2., congratulations, you’re not autistic! The average person who doesn’t, say, think about cheating on his wife may either be experiencing 1. or 2., but will never know it. If an autistic man doesn’t think about cheating on his wife, it’s because he’s actually not having thoughts about cheating on his wife. It’s 1. or nothing. The weak executive functioning means unwanted thoughts will arise and intrude on one’s thoughts. So those of us on the spectrum who never think about cheating on our wives sleep with a clear conscience.

Now, the problem with having a weak executive function isn’t so much that you aren’t actively suppressing much if anything at all in your unconscious; no, the problem is that your head is full of a constant stream of thoughts, and with a weak censor, you’re bound to say more than a few of them. Many of us learn to run thoughts by ourselves before we speak, but that presupposes we aren’t being pressured to say something right now. If we’re delayed in speaking, it’s because we’re making sure what we plan to say is appropriate. Put us under any sort of pressure, make us uncomfortable, and you’re bound to hear what we really think. And that, of course, can be . . . awkward!

If there is anything good about a weak executive function, it’s that such “leakiness” tends to lead to rather creative thoughts. When writing a poem, play, or prose fiction, having a weak censor is actually a boon. All kinds of crazy thoughts come to mind, and many of them are quite interesting from an artistic perspective—or from the perspective of technological innovation. All those crazy thoughts are thoughts everyone is having—but only those on the spectrum aren’t censoring the overwhelming majority of them. If you wonder why I claimed autistics may be among the most creative, now you know why.

 

Daniel’s Stoic Philosophy

Last night Dylan threw up after having had a stomach ache all day. Waiting to get in the shower after he threw up, Dylan was very upset and said he hopes he never gets sick again. Daniel responded, in perfect stoic philosophy fashion, that Dylan will indeed get sick again.

Of course, most people would take such a statement as literally the opposite of comforting. We’d be outright offended if an adult said what he said. However, Daniel meant it as a kind of comfort. It was clear, from the way he said it, that it was meant to help Dylan be less upset. If he’s certain to get sick again, it makes no sense to get this upset now about it. Perfect stoic logic.

Of course, this isn’t the first time Daniel demonstrated stoic logic. Dylan is a bit OCD, and he cannot stand to get any water on his clothes. And I do mean the smallest drop of water will make him want to change clothes.

One day, while I was wetting his hair to make it more manageable, I got his shirt a little wet. Dylan of course started complaining that I got the shirt wet and that he wanted to change his shirt. Daniel overheard him and came and tried to comfort him by explaining the concept of evaporation. He told Dylan that over time the water would turn into air, so there was no point in getting upset, since the shirt would be dry soon.

Again, this was Daniel trying to comfort Dylan. Daniel takes a very practical approach to solving emotional problems that is likely to seem cold to most people. But if you think about it, what’s a better demonstration of concern than to actually help you change the way you think about a situation so you’re no longer upset?