Lately, I have been confronted with the challenge of perception. How I perceive situations, people, and challenges, and how others — if they were in my shoes — might perceive that same situation. Autism literature talks extensively about Theory of Mind, mindblindness, and perspective talking, which are essentially three names for the idea that individuals with ASD struggle with the very idea of recognizing, adopting, and/or understanding another person’s perceptions. While I could discuss the intracacies and challenges that this deficit presents, I find myself more interested in the ways in which NTs struggle with understanding the lives, perspectives, and perceptions of those with ASD. If an NT can’t don the shoe of someone with ASD, why should an Aspie or Autie want, try, aspire, or bother with doing the same?
Case in point, I had internet installed in my new home yesterday. The gentleman, in making friendly conversation, asked me what I do for a living. Always a fun subject, I shared with him the basic premise of my job — I work with individuals with ASD. The usual, cookie-cutter response did not occur (“Oh, that’s wonderful” or “You must be patient” or “That’s so rewarding”). Instead, he said with honesty: “I just don’t get autism. What is it?”
I have had this question posed to me millions of times (and likely millions more), but yesterday it took the breath from my lungs for some reason. The immensity and gravity of the question and the import of the answer weighed on my shoulders. What did I want this man to know about individuals with ASD when he walked out of my house? What did I want him to remember? I sat in silence for what felt like an eternity. What words could I use? What perception did I want him to leave with? He must have been confused by my silence because he asked, “Well, don’t they just fly off the handle?”
There was my starting point. I wanted to know WHERE that starting point originated. Who gave him that information? Had he read it? Had someone told him? Did he know someone with ASD who is prone to rages or meltdowns? These were all past the scope of my brief window of opportunity. The time that I was afforded was equivalent to cooking — perhaps overcooking — a bag of popcorn in the microwave.
Set the timer folks, I am placing the bag in the microwave.
I shared about the social impact of ASD and how ASD can appear to be “invisible” in some ways, which brings upon scrutiny and judgment when/if they behave “differently” from the “norm”. I pontificated about strengths and about how their differences are both challenges and true blessings for our society.
The popcorn is popping fast, and I have to grab the bag before it burns. Man that three minutes went fast.
As we walked out, he said, “You know, we all have social struggles in one way, shape, or form. My dad wanted me to play sports. I’m just not that guy. I have other talents. It sounds like your clients do, too.” Yes, internet guy, they most certainly do.
What would you share in three minutes?