For Emma's birthday in August, my girlfriend got her a metal detector because this was at the TOP of Emma's wish list and my girlfriend loves to spoil her. When I asked Emma why in the world she wanted a metal detector, and she proudly announced, "To find dinosaur bones!", I knew immediately that one day we would be looking for a small Liberal Arts college for her. After I explained to Emma that a METAL detector detects METAL (poor thing), she was even more determined to have one in her greedy paws because now, she was utterly certain buried treasure would be discovered in our backyard. Well, two months later, not a single gold or silver coin has been unearthed. No buried treasure, no thick, bent, kinked, never laid flat on your neck, herringbone gold necklace from the 80's (I got a new pair of shoes with my gold herringbone chain "trade in" cash), not even a circa 1950's Coke bottle cap. Emma quickly became frustrated that she wasn't striking it rich, so, she adjusted the setting on her metal detector, concerned that the metal detector just wasn't strong enough to detect the treasure most certainly buried deep under the wood chips of her playground. Perhaps the metal detector wasn't strong enough or sensitive enough to detect the smidge of metal buried deep within the grass, hidden by layers of soil and clay.
People buy metal detectors in hopes of trying to find precious, rare objects that get lost, discarded or carelessly tossed aside by others. Emma was hoping to take advantage of other people's carelessness. Maybe Emma is right. Maybe there is treasure that lies just underneath her feet, undiscovered by so many who continually walk over top of it, never taking the time to dig deeper and discover the rare find that lies just below the surface, only concerning themselves with what they can "see". Emma's optimism, her determination and her childhood innocence makes me believe we need a stronger metal detector.
People buy metal detectors in hopes of trying to find precious, rare objects that get lost, discarded or carelessly tossed aside by others. Emma was hoping to take advantage of other people's carelessness. Maybe Emma is right. Maybe there is treasure that lies just underneath her feet, undiscovered by so many who continually walk over top of it, never taking the time to dig deeper and discover the rare find that lies just below the surface, only concerning themselves with what they can "see". Emma's optimism, her determination and her childhood innocence makes me believe we need a stronger metal detector.
In this era of "What will they think of next?" technology, we have detectors that sense smoke, detectors that sense gas, detectors that sense radiation. What if a detector that could sense autism was created? Some type of wand that you could wave over a person and detect the "amount" of autism found in them. I wonder what it would detect in Ryan? Some days, I assure you, that detector would beep, screech and wail like a five alarm fire alert and yet other days, it would emit only a slight vibration. The autism detector would come in handy for those moments when Ryan's emotions and behavior are hard for him to control and even harder for his tired, old mother to explain. "Oh, do you hear that beeping sound, that's an autism detector, now you understand why my son is making those funny faces instead of answering your question about whether or not he likes middle school. He has a smidge of autism." Unfortunately, even if a high tech autism detector explained the "why" of Ryan's behavior by emitting a signal to let you know, yes indeed, autism has been discovered in his brain, some people still wouldn't dig deeper to try and understand it or accept it.
To those who know and love Ryan, at times, it is apparent that something is "different". Maybe its the fact he ignores your question, maybe it's the way he overreacts to loud noise and chaos, maybe it's his blatant, no holds barred AWEnesty or maybe it's the funny noises and faces he makes while imitating the latest television show playing in his brain. However, to those folks who don't spend a lot of time with Ryan, when they find out he has an ASD they seem surprised. "Really? It doesn't show!" or "Wow, I had no idea!" or my personal favorite, "But, he looks so normal!". My first thought after I hear such comments, is wow, I wonder what these people thought when Ryan completely ignored them or barked some demand at them in his "bossy voice". Most people probably just assume Ryan has terrible parents who have decided that manners don't apply to him. After I unruffle my feathers from such comments, then I start to worry that if those kind of statements come out of the mouths of grown ups, it makes me shudder to think what mean kids must say to Ryan when he is tic-ing, making funny noises or LOL'ing when the moment does not call for even a giggle. Kids can certainly be mean. Even though it was a looooooonnnngggg time ago, since I roamed the hallways of middle school and high school as a student, I still remember just how mean kids were.
We all remember the kids in school who were in the special education classrooms. The kids you would see in the hallways and at lunch, but who rarely shared a class with you. Back in my day, the special education classroom was reserved for only those kids with fairly profound deficits in learning, socialization, and behavior. We still had bullies back in those days, but only the meanest, nastiest bullies picked on these kids. For the most part, these "special needs kids" (I hate that label) were not tortured by fellow classmates. I AWEnestly believe this was because the struggles of these kids with significant special needs were so obvious and so tough that even the nastiest bullies recognized how cruel it would have been to mess with these kids. In my high school, we had a child who pretended to drive a motorcycle through the school hallways. Of course watching him maneuver through the hallways on his invisible motorcycle made you chuckle, but most kids, in kindness, would ask where he was going in such a hurry. Some kids, with such apparent special needs, would even be taken under the wings by the "cool" kids, a sort of, "I dare you to mess with this kid.". In so many areas of life, kids with special needs have a tough time and may appear very "unlucky", but in the food chain of public school, these kids often fall well above the "weirdos" in the kid assigned student hierarchy.
Now, as a mom who is all too familiar with the quirks, tics and odd behaviors that tends to go along with an ASD diagnosis, I can look back at kids in my high school and recall the "loners", "oddballs", "geeks" and "weirdos" that fell at the bottom of the high school hierarchy. Today, many of those quirky kids in my high school would certainly fall somewhere "on the spectrum". Kids who may very well have had "special needs", but their needs weren't "special" enough to put them in a special education classroom or grant them a "pass" from being teased and ridiculed. These poor kids were thrown to the wolves in regular ed.
There was a boy in my high school that dressed in black from head to toe, every single day. Needless, to say, he was cruelly referred to as Johnny Cash (sans a country recording contract and pretty June Carter Cash by his side). Maybe the routine of black made this boy feel safe in a school full of kids who didn't understand him and who didn't bother to try. Had this dressed in black student been in high school today, he would have been considered "goth", but sadly, still "weird". Although Ryan wears an assortment of colors, I have no doubt that his standard 6 outfits that he rotates day in and day out gets noticed by other students and that this routine also makes him "weird" or "dorky". Ryan likes the comfort of the clothes he wears and knowing which shirt goes with which pair of shorts is just one less decision he has to make in a long day filled with varying choices and decisions. Ryan is doing 7th grade math in 6th grade. Clearly, not worrying or wasting brain power on what to wear is working for him.
Another boy in my high school English class was often found reading his Greek Mythology book lying on his back on the floor which apparently he found much more appealing than sitting at his desk like the "normal" kids. After 52 minutes of learning about Zeus and his BFF's on Mount Olympus, the "normal" kids would exit class with comments such as, "Did you see that weirdo?", "He just does that for attention." or "What the he** is wrong with that freak?" echoing off the school hallway walls loud enough for the boy who loved the floor, to hear. In the meantime, the boy gathered up his books, seemingly unconcerned by the meanies' comments, and quickly dashed down the hallway....alone. As far as I know, Ryan sits in his desk at school, however, he often studies his flashcards upside down on the couch and although I worry about him breaking his neck, Ryan assures me that "being upside down helps me concentrate". Maybe, the boy from my high school English class and Ryan have it right. Maybe SAT scores would skyrocket if kids laid on their backs on the floor of the testing room or better yet, took the tests hanging upside down. Maybe "our" way has been wrong all along.
A girl who sat in my high school Algebra class would rock in her desk from the instant the bell rang to signal the beginning of class to when the bell rang signaling class had come to an end. The rumor was this girl was rocked so much as a baby, that she still enjoyed the soothing rocking motion as a teenager. It didn't matter that there was a "legit" reason this girl rocked back and forth and back and forth, her rocking behavior still made her "weird". Ryan has never been a rocker, but, when I brush Ryan's hair his hand flicks back and forth, back and forth because this flicking distracts him from the "terrible pain" the hair brush causes to his head. Algebra caused me and my head terrible pain. Maybe I should have rocked right along side that girl. Chances are highly probable, her grade in Algebra was much higher than mine and that the rocking helped her achieve that grade. Maybe every single one of these "weirdos" had it right, and maybe we neurotypical folks are the ones that are weird. If you ask someone with an ASD, I promise you that is precisely what you will be told.
There was a boy in my high school that dressed in black from head to toe, every single day. Needless, to say, he was cruelly referred to as Johnny Cash (sans a country recording contract and pretty June Carter Cash by his side). Maybe the routine of black made this boy feel safe in a school full of kids who didn't understand him and who didn't bother to try. Had this dressed in black student been in high school today, he would have been considered "goth", but sadly, still "weird". Although Ryan wears an assortment of colors, I have no doubt that his standard 6 outfits that he rotates day in and day out gets noticed by other students and that this routine also makes him "weird" or "dorky". Ryan likes the comfort of the clothes he wears and knowing which shirt goes with which pair of shorts is just one less decision he has to make in a long day filled with varying choices and decisions. Ryan is doing 7th grade math in 6th grade. Clearly, not worrying or wasting brain power on what to wear is working for him.
Another boy in my high school English class was often found reading his Greek Mythology book lying on his back on the floor which apparently he found much more appealing than sitting at his desk like the "normal" kids. After 52 minutes of learning about Zeus and his BFF's on Mount Olympus, the "normal" kids would exit class with comments such as, "Did you see that weirdo?", "He just does that for attention." or "What the he** is wrong with that freak?" echoing off the school hallway walls loud enough for the boy who loved the floor, to hear. In the meantime, the boy gathered up his books, seemingly unconcerned by the meanies' comments, and quickly dashed down the hallway....alone. As far as I know, Ryan sits in his desk at school, however, he often studies his flashcards upside down on the couch and although I worry about him breaking his neck, Ryan assures me that "being upside down helps me concentrate". Maybe, the boy from my high school English class and Ryan have it right. Maybe SAT scores would skyrocket if kids laid on their backs on the floor of the testing room or better yet, took the tests hanging upside down. Maybe "our" way has been wrong all along.
A girl who sat in my high school Algebra class would rock in her desk from the instant the bell rang to signal the beginning of class to when the bell rang signaling class had come to an end. The rumor was this girl was rocked so much as a baby, that she still enjoyed the soothing rocking motion as a teenager. It didn't matter that there was a "legit" reason this girl rocked back and forth and back and forth, her rocking behavior still made her "weird". Ryan has never been a rocker, but, when I brush Ryan's hair his hand flicks back and forth, back and forth because this flicking distracts him from the "terrible pain" the hair brush causes to his head. Algebra caused me and my head terrible pain. Maybe I should have rocked right along side that girl. Chances are highly probable, her grade in Algebra was much higher than mine and that the rocking helped her achieve that grade. Maybe every single one of these "weirdos" had it right, and maybe we neurotypical folks are the ones that are weird. If you ask someone with an ASD, I promise you that is precisely what you will be told.
Ryan does not race motorcycles through the hall, he does not have classes in the special education room, he does not have any physical attributes that screams, "I have a different ability!" and he does not have the ultra cool quarterback or the pretty, popular cheerleader taking him under his wing. Ryan, like so many kids with an ASD diagnosis, does indeed have a different ability, that certainly makes him special, just not quite "special" enough to step up one rung on the middle school hierarchy. Ryan's special, different ability, just happens to fall in the quirky, weird, uncool, geeky, category because to many kids, it is not apparent that there is a neurodevelopmental difference that makes Ryan sniff his left nostril, watch SpongeBob in his head when teachers bore him or roll his eyes back in his head to shut out the world when he is trying so hard not to cry. There is no autism detector that beeps when Ryan is acting "weird". These quirks, these weird behaviors are just what others "see" on the surface, rarely taking the time to look for the treasure that is buried deeper, hidden by the sniffs, the facial grimaces and the funny, subtle noises.
Since I doubt an autism detector will be created and installed in school lobbies anytime soon to help students understand there is a legitimate reason for what they see on the surface as "weirdness" in some of their fellow classmates, Ryan and kids like him will continue to be teased, ignored and misunderstood. Yes, I am aware of all the bully prevention taking place in most school districts, but when you have a child who wouldn't dream of telling you he is being picked on for fear he has done something wrong, or even worst, maybe he believes he deserves to be teased for being such a "weirdo", then all the "go tell a trusting adult" scenarios is as effective as Emma's Metal detector trying to locate dinosaur bones.
The thing is, just like Emma had to adjust her thinking about using a METAL detector to discover things made out of METAL rather than fossilized dinosaur bones, people have to adjust their thinking about autism. They have to stop looking for the differences in children with autism and find the similarities. Stop glancing at what's wrong with a child with autism and look deeper to find what is right. Take the time to dig for the strengths and bury the notion that differences are a sign of weakness. Look past the "weird" and find the "unique". Search below the surface and see the rare, precious treasure that lies hidden within. Just like treasure hunters, who take the time to find what others are quick to discard and carelessly toss aside, someone else's loss is your gain. I promise if you take the time to dig deeper, change your "settings", and sift through what only you can "see", you will make an AWEsome discovery, and even though this discovery will not make you rich or famous, it will certainly leave you wanting to unearth more.
The thing is, just like Emma had to adjust her thinking about using a METAL detector to discover things made out of METAL rather than fossilized dinosaur bones, people have to adjust their thinking about autism. They have to stop looking for the differences in children with autism and find the similarities. Stop glancing at what's wrong with a child with autism and look deeper to find what is right. Take the time to dig for the strengths and bury the notion that differences are a sign of weakness. Look past the "weird" and find the "unique". Search below the surface and see the rare, precious treasure that lies hidden within. Just like treasure hunters, who take the time to find what others are quick to discard and carelessly toss aside, someone else's loss is your gain. I promise if you take the time to dig deeper, change your "settings", and sift through what only you can "see", you will make an AWEsome discovery, and even though this discovery will not make you rich or famous, it will certainly leave you wanting to unearth more.
Ok, AWEnestly, you can see why Ryan thinks the kids jumping up in the air on the beach for no good reason are the weirdos and not him.
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