Is ADHD Really Anxiety?

There are a few traits that are almost completely co-morbid with autism: chronic anxiety and ADD/ADHD. If you have autism, you have anxiety and attention problems.

Autism, though, isn’t the only thing where anxiety and attention problems are co-morbid. The same is true of post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). When you have PTSD, you are in a state of constant anxiety and constant hyper-vigilance. Hyper-vigilance means you are constantly actively keeping close tabs on the environment. Your attention is drawn to every little thing, to anything you catch out of the corner of your eye.

This hyper-vigilance sounds an awful lot like ADD/ADHD. Hyper-vigilance is actually how I would describe my ADD. It’s not that I have a hard time paying attention–rather, I have a hard time not paying attention to literally everything around me. To the person I’m directly in front of, it’s going to appear that I am having a hard time paying them attention, though.

If we understand ADD/ADHD as hyper-vigilance, this could then easily explain why many with ADD/ADHD can pay close attention to video games, for example. After all, many video games simulate conditions in which hyper-vigilance is needed to succeed.

Obsessive focus on an area of interest could also be understood as hyper-vigilance. Hyper-vigilance will also require hyper-focus if and when the “danger” is located. When there is no actual danger, that hyper-focus could manifest itself in a variety of other ways, including obsessive interests.

Hyper-vigilance comes out of anxiety, and we autistics are full of anxiety. In our case, the anxiety stems from our constantly being bombarded by sensory input. We’re overstimulated, and oftentimes that stimulation doesn’t get integrated well. It should not be surprising if an intense environment should result in hyper-vigilance within that environment. Anxiety is the intermediary.

While I myself do not use any kind of medication, and we do not use medication on our son, I do understand why some might want to medicate themselves or their children. The typical medication is for ADD/ADHD–things like Ritalin–because that’s the most problematic behavior. However, if my suspicions are correct, we are very much treating the symptoms of anxiety rather than dealing with the deeper cause–the anxiety itself.

Since we cannot rewire the brain, we cannot treat the ultimate cause (and we with autism probably wouldn’t want to do that, anyway, since that wiring is part of who we are as human beings), but anti-anxiety medications may go a long way toward eliminating at least the co-morbidity of ADD/ADHD. They would also likely alleviate some of our social issues, which stem from that anxiety.

The general rise in ADD/ADHD and the high prevalence of it in the U.S. can, I believe, based on this thesis, be traced to the fact that our school system is making our children far more anxious than ever before. But that’s a whole other set of issues. I will say, though, that rather than putting more children on Ritalin and related drugs or anti-anxiety medications, perhaps if our schools treated students as ends in themselves rather than as means to achieve testing outcomes to make administrators look good and justify their 6-digit salaries, there wouldn’t be nearly as many children with ADD/ADHD.

Bullying or Joking Around?

Today my wife went to The Warren Center to attend a presentation on bullying and special needs children. The presenter suggested that we encourage Daniel to engage in self-advocacy, that we perhaps should have his teacher discuss with the class the fact that Daniel has autism and what that means–if Daniel agreed to it (which he has), and that we role-play certain scenarios.

We decided to try a role-playing scenario. Anna pretended to be a mean girl insulting our daughter, Melina; then, I pretended to be Melina’s friend just joking around.

Anna: Oh, hi, Melina. Wearing those glasses you look like a real nerd.

Me: Was that mean, or just joking around?

Daniel: It was mean.

So far, so good. I then went.

Me, in a playful voice: Hey, nerd! What’s up?

Anna: Was that mean, or just joking around?

Daniel: It was mean.

There’s little question that anyone not autistic would have very easily picked up that I was joking. If you’re an autistic adult, you would probably even pick up on it from the umpteen times you’ve seen people interacting just that way and having a laugh about it. But Daniel just turned 9, and he’s still learning.

The problem is that we cannot trust Daniel’s judgment on whether or not he’s being bullied. He’s saying his friends are being mean to him, but it’s not impossible that his friends (assuming for a minute he’s making the right judgment that they are in fact his friends) are just joking around with him and he’s misunderstanding the social situation. He also wants to be loyal to his friends, so he is loathe to mention anything negative about them. He doesn’t want to lose the friends he has, regardless of how they may (or may not) be treating him.

Hopefully, if and when his classmates are given the presentation about Daniel’s autism that the bullying will stop. We’ll probably have to have them address the issue of Daniel’s difficulty understanding playful banter among friends, where you insult each other to show camaraderie, precisely because Daniel doesn’t understand it and may be mistaking it for being mean.

Sharing a Co-Morbidity Doesn’t Mean Autism Doesn’t Exist

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My wife shared this image on Facebook. The things surrounding “autism” are all things that can be co-morbid with it. For example, I have general anxiety disorder–meaning I have anxiety all day every day–but I don’t have Tourette’s. Not everyone who has general anxiety disorder has autism, of course, but if you are autistic, you have general anxiety disorder. And not everyone with Tourette’s is autistic, but a higher percentage of autistics have Tourette’s.
 
There are those who think that having daily rituals is having OCD. Having rituals is not really quite OCD. Rituals are a way to create order in life, and is therefore something you will find autistics doing at much higher rates than, again, the non-autistic population. True OCD would involve someone who cannot leave a room without turning the light switch on and off exactly 15 times each time, or who gets “fascinated” by a shoe for 30 minutes straight. Or it may involve being unable to stop thinking about something all the time–such as sharks, for example, or in my case, self-organizing scale free network processes. The benefit of having what one could call “OCD thinking” is that one can become a scientists or scholar, and then you’re actually paid for what you can’t stop thinking about. You can get a Ph.D. with that way of thinking.
 
Of course, if you’re always thinking about certain things, if your brain is always running at 150 mph, you may have a hard time paying attention. My own hyperactivity is mostly in my thoughts, but Daniel has a hard time sitting still unless he’s involved in his obsessions. Which simply means his hyperactivity is internalized.
 
These things themselves come from the fact that the autistic brain is dominated by positive feedback. Complex systems like the brain have a combination of positive and negative feedback. Negative feedback helps to keep things in equilibrium. The thermostat for your heater/AC uses negative feedback to keep the temperature the same. If you had a positive feedback thermostat, the hotter the room became, the hotter the heater would try to make the room. Things go faster the faster they go. Hyperactivity then occurs because you’re getting overstimulated. This can then push over into a situation where you become overwhelmed by the situation. Reactions to this can include extreme escape behaviors, banging your body against a wall while becoming non-responsive, or having an outright meltdown where you cannot control your actions. The overstimulation occurs in no small part because we also have sensory integration disorder. That means we have a hard time separating out visual input from sound from touch from all of the rest of our sensory input. I experience it as a feeling that my mind is being crumpled up like a piece of paper and everything goes black.
 
I also come with some extreme sensitivities. I cannot stand to have my wrists touched. I jump every time someone does that. I want to remove my skin to get away. But I try to downplay my reactions because people will just think it’s “weird.”
 
Autism is a fundamental structural difference in the way the brain is wired and works. It results in a very distinct set of behaviors. Yet, it is a spectrum, and that spectrum goes from truly debilitating (what is now called Autism 3) through “high-functioning” (Autism 2) to Asperger’s/Autism 1 and, I would argue, ADD/ADHD. Yes, most of the elements which are often co-morbid with autism can be found elsewhere. I have a slight tendency toward manic-depression, but there are certainly people with manic-depression who aren’t autistic, and there are people with crippling depression who aren’t autistic. Yet, those are found among autistics at much higher rates.
 
Those who like to throw around the argument that “autism” is a “mere label” are really just trying to downplay some very concrete elements of reality. There are some things that are “mere labels,” and some things that absolutely are not. Having structural and biochemical differences in my brain that result in my mind being very different from non-autistic people isn’t a label. It’s an acknowledgement of that reality. I’ve enjoyed the giftedness and even the OCD that has come with it. I couldn’t have gotten my Ph.D. without it. And yet, my sensitivities and “weird” behaviors have definitely affected various aspects of my life. One of the best things to have happened to me was for me to realize I was autistic and to get officially diagnosed. It cleared up why I was argumentative (have ODD), why I couldn’t understand why everyone else wasn’t as rational or couldn’t see all the complex patterns I could see. It cleared up why I have all my sensitivities, why I think the way I do, why I avoid being in the middle of large groups of people, why I have blackout and movement seizures, why I have a delay in my response to people, and why I can get confused if people don’t give me the processing time I need.
 
The benefit of knowing I am autistic goes beyond that. Now I’m no longer just that weird person who doesn’t like to socialize who inexplicably alternates between being wonderfully kind and friendly to appearing to be rude (from failing to notice things going on or being confused about a given situation). Those behaviors are now able to be explained. Which doesn’t mean I shouldn’t have someone say, “Hey, so and so said hi to you.” I do. It helps. Nor does it mean I shouldn’t have certain behaviors pointed out to me, because when they are, I become more conscious of them and the fact that they may make non-autistic people uncomfortable, so I should try to change that behavior. At the same time, there’s always a degree to which we cannot help our behaviors. In a room full of autistic people like me, the non-autistics would stand out and it would be their behavior which would seem out of place. And if we insisted they fit in, they would seem socially awkward and would have an extremely difficult time fitting in.
 
The long and short of it is that autism is a real thing with real behavioral and cognitive differences in those of us who have it. It’s important people know Daniel is autistic. That way people can understand that if he’s in a situation with a lot of people where he’s being completely overwhelmed that he’s not an out-of-control brat who just need some strong discipline to straighten him up, but actually cannot integrate what is going on, positive feedback is dominating, and he’s so completely overwhelmed he shuts down until he resets (in a closed system like the brain, positive feedback doesn’t run away forever, but rather creates cycles). I want people to understand that. I want people to adjust their expectation and to make room for “odd” behaviors so they can reap the benefits of our existence.

Meltdowns

Daniel is 8 and he hasn’t had a meltdown in probably 3 years. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t get frustrated–or loud–but he has it under control, and I can immediately redirect him. Daniel being verbal helps, though he wasn’t verbal until he was about 3.5 yrs old.

While Daniel is able to avoid having meltdowns, there are children out there who are no more autistic than Daniel who are still having meltdowns in their teens. It’s one thing if the child is so severe that they cannot speak and otherwise have extreme difficulty communicating–the frustration of trying to communicate and having your body refuse to cooperate is without question extremely frustrating. But there’s honestly no excuse for someone who is verbal to be having constant meltdowns (which isn’t to say that we won’t have our very, very bad days).

There are several things we did with Daniel that resulted in him no longer having meltdowns. One thing we would do was hold him until he calmed down. We would also repeat his name and try to sooth him by encouraging him to tell us what happened. Afterwards, we would talk to him about what frustrated him and ask him if his reaction seemed reasonable given the situation. He always agreed it wasn’t.

We also told him that if he felt a meltdown coming on, to squeeze our hands or to count down with us from ten. We introduced these at the same time that he was agreeing the causes of meltdowns were unreasonable.

The bottom line is that we always held Daniel accountable for everything he did, even during a meltdown. We made him apologize to anyone he may have harmed during the meltdown and clean up any mess he made. We helped him communicate rather then have a meltdown, and helped him to reason through his frustrations. Autistics can be reasoned with–perhaps more so than non-autistics–and so if you’re using reason with them, their meltdowns should becoming less and less intense and coming on less and less often.

What cannot be done is to accidentally reward them for having meltdowns. Never give in. Never avoid what may lead to a meltdown, as they will learn that having a meltdown will get them out of uncomfortable situations (or simply situations they don’t want to be in). Make them talk about it (if they’re verbal, of course). While it’s true that once you’ve crossed over a certain point, the person is no longer entirely in control of what they’re doing, since the world has become extremely chaotic and confusing, the fact of the matter is that autistics are in fact in control of themselves up to the moment they have their meltdown. If that weren’t the case, it wouldn’t be possible to reduce the number and intensity of meltdowns through reason and various calming techniques.

It has been my experience that older children especially will actually use meltdowns to get themselves out of things they don’t want to do–such as go to the store, stay home, apologize to someone, go to class, or even be around someone in particular. If you give in because they have a meltdown, that will tell them that meltdowns will get them what they want. While I do not think you should punish a child who has had a meltdown the same way you would punish a child who threw a temper tantrum (since they are hardly the same thing), there should still be consequences for the meltdown, as already mentioned–apologies, cleaning up the mess, etc.

Too often we find ourselves tempted to offer the “autism excuse” to justify ongoing meltdowns or other behaviors. Somehow excuses are only offered for the most problematic behaviors that we can in fact learn to control, while we are held responsible for “minor” things that are in fact more emblematic of autism and less under our control. When that happens, we mostly end up being pitied rather than taken seriously. We aren’t given accommodations for reasonable things and given excuses for the most outrageous ones. This benefits no one–especially not us.

On the Double-Mindedness Developed Among the Different

In The Souls of Black Folk, W.E.B. Du Bois says that blacks have a sort of doubleness in them not found among whites. Blacks cannot just “be themselves,” but must always think about how they are being perceived by whites. This creates a sense that you are always of two minds: that you are not only thinking and doing, but that you are thinking about how others perceive you, and adjust accordingly. Whites never have to deal with this. Being the majority and having the majority power, they can just be themselves without worry about how anybody is thinking about them.

Du Bois would probably not be surprised if he learned that other minorities were put in similar situations in the U.S., but it probably didn’t occur to him that there were people out there with different kinds of minds, and that they too would develop such a doubleness.

I know all about this double-mindedness, because I experience it constantly. I not only have to think about what I’m going to say or do, but I have to think about how others might take it. I can either just say or do whatever I want as I want and hope that I don’t do something that will set people off, or I can always consciously think about everything I say or do before I say or do it, testing against what I expect the expectations are (and hoping I’m getting those right). If it takes me a moment to respond to something, it’s because I’m going through all this nonsense to make sure I don’t say or do something wrong.

Now, you might expect this to take place in a 45-year-old man, but you wouldn’t expect it to take place just quite yet in an 8-year-old boy. However, Daniel has said some things that shows he–on some level, at least–does understand that he has to engage in this double-mindedness.

While we all behave differently in different environments–school, home, church, work, etc.–rarely do we think these things through. However, when I asked Daniel one day if he behaved at school the way he did at home, he told me that because he has to keep it together at school, he likes to “go crazy” at home. That is, this is something he’s actually thought through. Other children may do the same thing, more or less, but how many would articulate it as such?

More negatively, Daniel has complained that his “brain is rotten.” He understands that the way his brain works is not the same as everyone else. While we would certainly prefer him to think of his brain as merely different and not as “rotten,” we get what he, as a 7-year-old at the time, was trying to articulate. When he complained one time about this, we pointed out to him that I have autism, just like him, and (because the kids happened to be watching Ghostbusters II at the time) that Dan Akyroid has autism. We suggested that someone with as much education as I have and someone who is a successful and funny actor couldn’t really have rotten brains, but that rather our brains were just different.

Unfortunately there is the too deeply human belief that “different is wrong,” and Daniel will have to learn otherwise as he matures. Because I hardly thought of my brain as rotten (everyone always said how smart I was), I thought that everyone else, being different from me, were wrong. The way that they thought was stupid, as far as I was concerned. Now, knowing what I know about myself, I realize that it is my way which is divergent and different–but that doesn’t mean rotten and wrong.

Daniel also sometimes insists that nobody likes him, that he has no friends. When we ask his teacher, she keeps insisting that he plays with the other kids all the time, meaning that there is some sort of disconnect between what others see happening and what Daniel seems to perceive. I think it’s pretty clear that Daniel understands that the other kids all think he’s “weird,” which he interprets as them not liking him. It probably doesn’t help that Daniel directs play more often than not, and can get upset when people aren’t “playing right.” Most kids aren’t going to like that, and Daniel, not understanding why they wouldn’t want to be his pawn pieces, interprets that as them not liking him or wanting to play with him. So there is likely some combination of awareness and ignorance at play, though both are driving Daniel to develop this dual awareness.

It’s probably a bit much to expect neurotypical people to allow us to just be ourselves. After all, viewing neurological differences as positive is a recent development, and it’s going to take a while to catch on. Maybe there will be a day when people with different neural structures or different cultural backgrounds can just be themselves without having to think about how they will be perceived by the power majority. We don’t know what will be gained, or possibly even lost, if and when that happens, but it would be interesting to at least find out. Daniel’s double-mindedness is already being developed; perhaps his own children won’t have to go through that.

Nerds in Special Ed

There seem to be a lot of nerdy-looking children in special education classes nowadays.

Of course, there is a great deal of overlap between “nerds” and “autistics.” It’s not impossible that the overlap is complete, that when we talk about nerds, we are essentially talking about high-functioning Autism I.

When I was in elementary/middle school, there weren’t any “nerds” in special education classes. There were a lot of poor kids, but not a lot of kids like me. My brother ended up in the special reading classes, but only because our mother pushed for him to be in there because in 2nd grade he still couldn’t read. It turned out he was severely dyslexic. But they at first resisted him being in special reading because “he doesn’t misbehave in class.”

Why are there so many nerdy-looking kids in special ed classes when there weren’t in the past? I suspect it’s because when students–like Daniel–are diagnosed with autism, even high-functioning autism (Daniel has Autism II), they are given all sorts of accommodations that end up directing them into special ed classes. Daniel for example is only required to do 5 of his 11 spelling words, though we are certain he could do them all. Of course, if he doesn’t do them all, he won’t learn them as quickly as his fellow students, and he’s going to fall behind.

I suspect that a lot of these kids in special education classes–the nerdy-looking ones, especially–really have no business being in special education. They could do the work, and they are actually increasingly able to do the work the older they get.

Historically, the nerds have grown up to be computer designers and programmers, scientists and artists. What’s going to happen if those kids are being shuttled into special education?

Daniel’s Nomination Speech

The entire 2nd grade class at Arapaho Classical Magnet is going to elect a president for the entire 2nd grade class. Each class has nominated a person, and next a second round of speeches will result in all the 2nd graders voting for a class president. Any student who wanted to participate could do so.

Daniel came home very excited. He said that he had an opportunity to give a speech to his class and he wanted to give a speech on sharks. It was a few days before we found out that the speech was to get his classmates to vote to nominate him for their class. When we told him what the speech was really about, and that he couldn’t just give a speech about anything he wanted, he lost all interest in giving it.

Fortunately, Anna pushed him to write and give his speech anyway. He had been so excited to give it, and we were excited that he wanted to do it, but Daniel didn’t want anything to do with the speech afterwards. So Anna proposed that Daniel could make his platform about getting his teachers to teach more about sharks during 2nd grade.

Naturally, this would seem to be the perfect solution. But equally naturally, nothing is going to be quite as clear-cut with Daniel. “What if the teachers show a video about a shark eating a dolphin? Then they’ll just hate sharks more!” I managed to persuade Daniel that it wasn’t likely they would show a video like that if they taught more about sharks. Satisfied, he agreed to write a speech encouraging people to vote for him on the platform that he would get the teachers to teach more about sharks.

Anna sat with him and helped him with the speech. It was a negotiation between informing people about sharks and trying to get people to vote for him.

The teacher recorded Daniel giving his speech.

It will probably not surprise anyone that he didn’t win on an all-shark platform. However, we are very proud that he actually wrote his speech–the longest thing he ever wrote–and gave his speech in front of the class. It was no small thing for him to do.

Daniel Wins the Fantastic Falcon Award for Exhibiting Compassion

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Today Daniel’s teacher awarded him the Fantastic Falcon Award for Exhibiting Compassion during the 3rd quarter. Every quarter each class at Arapaho Classical Magnet gives out non-academic awards to students for things like helpfulness, compassion, and resilience. In the past the awards were less specific, meaning the teachers could interpret the awards however they wanted. This time, they gave out two, with the specific criteria of compassion and resilience.

I’m guessing one would have a hard time convincing Daniel’s teacher that he doesn’t have empathy!

A Pathological Look at Neurotypical Behavior

When you read about autism, you typically read about it as a pathology. Autistic people are viewed as being normal people with pathological deviations from the norm. Every so often you will come across an article that delineates a few of the special abilities of people on the spectrum, but even in doing so, it comes across as “well, at least there are a few positive things that come out of this tragedy.”

Autism is a structural variation in the brain’s architecture that gives rise to differences in processing and in different abilities. One may even argue that it gives rise to a different kind of mind. The vast majority of those people are in the “mild” end of the spectrum, though a great deal of focus is on the “extreme” end, with those who often cannot speak and seem to be particularly mentally disabled. This focus further pathologizes the spectrum precisely because it does not fully or even properly represent the reality for most people with autism.

To fully understand my point, I want to treat those not on the spectrum as though autism were the norm and what we now call neurotypical behavior were the minority. That is, I want to treat neurotypical people the way they treat people on the autism spectrum, from the perspective of someone on the spectrum. Because, from our point of view, you are full of deficits.

The Pathology

Irrational behaviors are one of the primary aspects of neurotypical people. Very often decisions are made without a great deal of thought or, certainly, research. This is especially true when it comes to their opinions. Whereas a sensible autistic person will do a great deal of research before developing an opinion or coming up with a proposed solution, neurotypicals have been observed to have an immediate opinion on things without, apparently, knowing the first thing about the topic. This is different from the kinds of errors autistics make from managing to miss something in their extensive research; rather, the neurotypicals carelessly won’t do any research at all before making a decision. And if they do any research, it will be at best a truncated version, as if they are impatient to come up with any answer at all rather than to make sure they have the right one.

It seems that a strong reliance on emotions is a typical reason for this immediate, almost knee-jerk, way of making a decision. As a result, it is not uncommon for them to agree with a solution that sounds good, sometimes regardless of the overwhelming evidence against the proposal, rather than something that has a track record of actually working. This seems to especially be the case in the areas of economics, the social sciences, and government. While this same tendency does allow them to respond more quickly to others, sometimes that is done at the expense of properly assessing the social situation. Fortunately, they do seem to have a particularly strong ability to make that proper assessment, so we must admit that in this particular case their pathological tendency toward immediate conclusions is often beneficial.

Having said that, there are some very strong negatives of that ability that seem to be combined with a kind of empathy that makes them more likely to identify more with people like themselves than with different people. While we autistics have a tendency to not be judgmental or biased, neurotypicals are terribly judgmental and biased. They judge people on things like race, sex, gender, deviations from the way they themselves think, culture, religion, and pretty much any difference one could possibly imagine, often to the point of hating members of other groups. Some autistics who have been raised with these people have learned these behaviors themselves, even though they are not typical to us. This makes associating with neurotypicals potentially dangerous, unless we remain on our guard against their biases.

This note on this particular moral deficit brings me to the topic of the large number of moral deficits commonly associated with neurotypicals. They have an under-developed sense of loyalty, and many do not seem to show any degree of loyalty at all. Further, they seem willing to lie about just about everything. The primary use of language for them seems to be to lie to each other. They will tell each other they look nice when they don’t; they will say one thing to one person, and another to another; they will backstab; they will tell their friends they are right when they know their friends are wrong. I could go on and on with the ways they lie to everyone.

They will also exaggerate and say things they don’t really mean. They will sometimes use words to mean completely different things. For example, I recently heard one of them say, “Give me a smack.” Which seems an odd request. But then I saw their neurotypical partner give them a kiss in response. How strange to ask for the opposite of a kiss and then to get a kiss! As a result, it can be very frustrating to deal with neurotypicals. You never know if they really mean what they are saying, you do not know if you can ever really trust them, and if you make the mistake of thinking they think the way you think, you will too often find yourself screwed over without your understanding what just happened.

Another odd behavior neurotypicals exhibit is their habit of “small talk.” From what we can tell, small talk appears to be talking just for the sake of talking. A “how are you doing” results in the same non-answer of “fine.” It seems unlikely everyone everywhere at all times is truly “fine,” so it seems that that is a non-answer to what is in fact a non-question. It has been observed that if you give an actual answer to the question, the questioner gets frustrated and impatient, as though they are annoyed that you would actually answer them. A whole conversation can actually go on like that, with general questions giving rise to pat answers so that you could actually change out any pair of people and you would end up with the same conversations each time. The vast majority of their conversations are not about anything of any substance, and, again, they seem positively annoyed if you try to engage them in such a conversation. As a group neurotypicals seem positively frivolous most of the time.

This frivolity extends to their work. They treat work as a social experience rather than as work. They don’t seem to treat work seriously or to engage in it with the kind of attention we autistics do. How any of them can keep a job is a mystery. Perhaps their ability to lie to their bosses and to pretend deference to them is what keeps them employed despite their inherent laziness. They also do have a tendency to do things exactly as they are told to do them rather than to find new ways of doing things. While one could view this as a lack of creativity on their part, in many cases it is useful to have a group of people who will unquestioningly do what they are told. If you can keep them from wasting their time socializing, businesses could make good use of this tendency to conform and engage in groupthink.

How It Feels to Be Made a Problem

I’m guessing you didn’t like the above description of yourself. You no doubt agree with many of the things listed, that they are all-too-often traits of the typical person. And no doubt many of you have made positive efforts to overcome those things—especially such things as racism and sexism. Indeed, we on the autism spectrum also make an effort to overcome what are perceived to be deficits. And yet, there are no doubt things I discussed above that you would argue are unusual, to say the least, interpretations of your behaviors. Well, guess what? That’s how we feel about many of the things we read about people with autism.

For example, we read that we do not have empathy or a theory of mind. That’s utterly ridiculous to us. We fully understand you have a mind—we just treat you like you have a mind like our minds, which results in a number of errors on our part. But guess what? You do exactly the same thing. You treat us as though we ought to have your mind, and when we obviously do not, you actually go so far as to declare that we don’t have a theory of mind! In the past people used to dehumanize others from other races and cultures using exactly this same logic. Since the person from the other culture does not act like us, they must not be human like us. We now know this to be untrue—and to be outright racist—but this way of thinking still manages to creep into studies of people with autism.

Yes, there are studies of young children involving hiding a toy, removing the child who saw where the toy was hidden, then moving the toy elsewhere and bringing the child back in where the young autistic children do not properly recognize who knows what, but where are the studies of older children and even adults? Why is it that we autistic adults don’t make this mistake? Could it be that the development of this ability is simply delayed rather than absent? Indeed, I see a great deal of evidence that people with autism have a tendency to have to learn through direct instruction many more things than do neurotypical people, who seem to have a large number of instincts that allow them to learn certain things more quickly. This is a difference in learning, not necessarily a disability or pathology. It is slower, but more accurate. As with anything, there are tradeoffs.

Finally, I want you to consider something else we autistic are always hearing. Given the negative aspects of neurotypicals listed above, what would you think of calls to fix you? From an autistic’s perspective, you would be much better people if you were more autistic. You would lie less, be less biased and judgmental, and be less frivolous. You would waste less time at work and get more work done. You would say what you mean and mean what you say. From our perspective, life would be much better for you if you were more like us. Now how does that make you feel? I can describe you as a pathology, as a problem that needs to be fixed. I am certain you didn’t like it one bit. Well guess what? Neither do we. If people would spend more time talking to us rather than studying us as some sort of black box that can only be understood by external observation of our behaviors, you may have known that by now.

Different Isn’t Worse

People with autism aren’t broken normal people. We are different. Our brains have different architectures, different biochemistry. It is driven by differences in our genes. All of which give rise to a different way of thinking and thus to different minds. Some of our minds are closer to neurotypical minds than others. It is a spectrum, after all. And some people with autism are definitely disabled when it comes to living in the neurotypical world. But then, there are extreme examples of the neurotypical mind as well—people who are pathological liars, people without morals, people who cannot seem to tell the difference between themselves and the external world. The difference is that they are closer to you, and thus seem more normal to you. To me, a man whose autism would be considered “mild,” those with severe autism seem more normal. I get how they are thinking. It is different, not wrong. And if people were more accepting of those differences, I would predict that many of our extreme negative traits would lessen considerably. We are frustrated, and that frustration comes out in a variety of negative ways. But then, consider what would happen if everyone treated you as a disease needing to be cured and not as someone who needed to be truly understood in the least?

Coming to this understanding between autistics and neurotypicals matters. Given the negative social consequences felt by pretty much everyone on the autism spectrum, we can only conclude that autism is one of the last ways of being human for which it is still completely acceptable by everyone to discriminate against. We are punished in the schools, discriminated against there, with the result that only around half graduate high school. Those who go to college don’t do much better. And even if, like me, one not only graduates from college but gets graduate degrees, one finds upon graduation that the work world is almost completely hostile to you. Not because we can’t do the work—because not only can we do the work, we will likely do it better than the average neurotypical person—but because we don’t interview well, we don’t acknowledge hierarchies, we are blunt, we come across as arrogant, and we aren’t social in typical ways.

I wrote this piece in order to help the average person understand what it’s like to be treated as a pathology. It can just as easily be done to you as it has been done to us. Does that mean you are a problem that needs to be fixed? Or does that mean we ought to be considered fellow human beings whose minds are part of the natural variation among human beings, whose contributions to society are vital for social health? We correctly recognize that acceptance of cultural, ethnic, racial, and sexual diversity results in a healthy society. Perhaps we can one day soon include different ways of thinking, different kinds of mind as well.

Reflections on Being a Student on the Spectrum

Having taught 2nd grade summer school Reading and Math, and now working as a sub, I cannot help but reflect upon my own elementary school education. I was always considered to be a very intelligent child by pretty much everyone, including my teachers. Any bad grades were considered to be laziness on my part.

One area in which I struggled throughout my years as a student was math. I particularly had a very hard time with word problems. I also had some problem with certain areas of multiplication, and fractions made no sense whatsoever to me until I took high school chemistry. I failed 8th grade math, made a C in Algebra 1 (Freshman), Cs and Bs in Geometry (Sophomore), a B in Algebra II (Jr), and an a in Calculus and in Trigonometry and Analytical Geometry (Sr). In college, I made a C in Calculus I, and I failed Calculus II so miserably that I managed to make a fairly low F even doing all of the extra credit.

Math in elementary school has now gone almost completely over to word problems. When I was in elementary school, tests would have almost all numerical problems, and only about 2 word problems. That meant I could miss the word problems (which I almost inevitably did) without failing the test. But today, the quizzes I have had to give involved nothing but word problems. Meaning there’s a very good chance that I would have been failing math well before 8th grade.

While there is no question that we need to teach children how to formulate problems (which is what word problems do), it doesn’t make a lot of sense to teach formulating math to children who cannot add, subtract, multiply, or divide. That is, you absolutely must have the mathematical skill in place before you can move on to mathematical reasoning and formulation of problems. The latter may be most important overall, but you cannot skip establishing the foundation.

Now it may be that this way of doing things is the best way for certain students. I won’t deny that possibility. But it’s coming at the expense of other children. And if this is true, then the way I was taught it came at the expense of the kinds of students who do well in the way math is taught today. There are trade-offs. In this particular trade-off, I would have been the one traded, from doing well enough in math to pass to failing very much earlier on.

Another thing I have noticed about education today is that it’s designed to be much more social. There’s more group work and “shoulder partners” and sitting together on a rug and so on. None of this is exactly inviting to anyone on the spectrum, and I certainly wouldn’t have liked school nearly as much if it had been run like it is today.

Indeed, though I was perhaps seen as highly intelligent but quirky (to put it nicely) as a child in the 1970s, I think there is little doubt that in the current school environment that I would have been identified as having something “wrong” with me. I would have been seen as refusing to participate and I probably would have had some quite negative reactions to a lot of this forced sociality (something perfectly fine for neurotypicals, who don’t find it forced at all). I would have likely been identified as having ODD, if not Asperger’s/autism. I probably wouldn’t have been identified as having ADD/ADHD, because I was never outwardly hyperactive (inwardly, I’m in a dead run almost all the time), but I would have likely been sullen and I wouldn’t have liked the classroom environment at all.

In other words, I think I would have done worse in school today than I did in the 1970s.

If it’s true that I would have done worse under the way teaching is done today, then we may have some explanation for why none of the education reforms we’ve tried have ever worked to improve scores. It’s because while the reforms help some children learn better, it ends up acting as an impediment to others. It also may explain the “rise” in ADD/ADHD and autism, since the way students are taught today seems to draw out many of their identifying factors.

But we ought to be a little disturbed that someone like me would probably no do well in today’s system. The system I went to school in put me on the path to succeeding in college and graduate school. I fear that this system would have had me identified as a problem student and perhaps even having the autism I do in fact have. That is a problem because even though there is a lot of rhetoric around people with disabilities being able to succeed, the fact is that nowadays we are put on a pathway to “succeed” outside of a college trajectory–mostly because we are left unprepared to go. My brother, who has dyslexia, was discouraged from going to college in high school–and he now has a B.A., an M.A., and an M.F.A. You cannot tell me that autistic children aren’t discouraged, directly or indirectly, from going to college.

What is worse is that, if I am right that the majority of advancements in the world were made by autistics, then we are doing a terrible disservice to the world at large by creating an educational system that educates perfect copiers well, but leaves reformers/inventors/creators on the sidelines.