DailyKenn.com — Nearly fifty years ago I walked into my parents' home during college spring break.
When I walked back out the front door, I could hear my mother complain. "He just walked in and walked out! He didn't say a word!"
My older sister, realizing I was in earshot, quickly changed the subject.
I didn't realize that being silent was so offensive to typical people. That is because I didn't realize that autistic people and typical people speak different languages.
Silence, to me, meant "I'm relaxed, secure, and confident."
To my mother it meant, "He's aloof!"
Eventually I came to understand the misunderstanding. Again, we speak different languages. Compounding the problem is that typicals don't realize that autistics — including "apsies" — are speaking normally. It's just different from what typicals are accustomed to.
Years later my wife and I were vacationing with another couple. Their 10-year-old grandson came with them. He was severely autistic.
Grandpa became became frustrated when Bobby (not his real name) randomly tapped the ball around the miniature golf green. When he tried to correct Bobby, the boy had a meltdown.
That's because Grandpa and Bobby were playing two different games. Bobby was playing autistic miniature golf in which the objective is randomly smacking the ball around the green. Grandpa was playing a typical game in which the goal was to get the ball in the hole. In a sense, Grandpa had a typical meltdown when he became frustrated with Bobby. Bobby responded with an autistic meltdown; frustrated with Grandpa's version of the game.
Schools present problems.
Teachers nearly always speak and understand typical. My natural language was autism. Typical-speaking teachers are difficult to understand due to data overload. The result, at least in my case, was spending my elementary days staring into space. Somehow I managed. Even though nearly one-third of my class was held behind in third grade, I advanced with the "smart" kids to fourth grade. A psychologist later explained: The reason I never failed in school was because I passed the standardized annual testing. Apparently enough information managed to sink into my brain even as I was day dreaming.
Employment presents problems.
People tend to organize themselves into social strati. I call it "stratus status." They seem to do so unconsciously. It's part of the typical non-verbal language; a language aspies struggle to understand. The outcome, again, is confusion. Not only do co-workers grasp the language of social communication, they also know how to fight. Sorry. I just don't get it. I can't understand. It's a foreign language in which I am not fluent. I can't converse socially. Likewise, typical coworkers could never understand my flat affect.
Crowd psychology present problems.
This I get it. I totally get it. We're down two points, there are two seconds on the clock, and one of our guys throws a hail-Mary from the end of the court. He scores. Our team wins by one point. Crowds of otherwise rational people stand, scream with delight, and jump and down. I just sit there. Yeah, I know. Our team won at the bell. That's one more time our guys managed to place an orb through a hoop than the other guys. But why the bizarre behavior? Land a man on the moon and, maybe, I can understand the enthusiasm in Houston. Map the human genome and there is cause for a smile a vigorous, "Cool!" But try to control yourselves. Seriously.
And you guys think I'm the space alien.
What about those massive healing crusades? Some guy in a white suit waves his suit coat and hundreds of people fall over. Yeah. Right. I'm the space alien.
Put me in front of a crowd, and I'm fine. Public speaking is my thing. Put me in the crowd and you may as well dangle me over the Grand Canyon. I'm terrified. Typical people are the opposite: In the crowd, they're fine. In front of the crowd is terrifying. It's a language disparity.
No, we're not consciously staring at you. We're unconsciously studying you. You're interesting. It's more like watching a character on television. We're the audience. You're the image on the screen. No l'amour intended.
Small talk. Is there a point to this? What if I don't want to have a nice day? Seriously. You honestly care about my wife and kids? You can't even remember their names. YOU have a merry Christmas. I just want to go home and eat cookies. Again, it's a language thing. We communicate and understand differently. Typicals think aspies are being aloof. Aspies think typicals are being unnecessarily intrusive. It's not that apsies don't like you. It's just that they'd like to get from point 'a' to point 'b' without having a nervous breakdown.
Typicals think they are communicating. Aspies think they're making useless noise.
Don't look me in the eye or get offended when I don't gaze into your baby blues. I'd prefer to look at your mouth. It's moving for a reason. And don't talk to me about eye contact. There's no such thing, unless you expect me to poke you with my finger. I don't even look photos in the eye.
Are you kidding me? You'll need to let me know. I can't always tell. As I like to say, "Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, I have Asperger's." Yeah. I actually believe the car salesman likes me.
What's up with the facial expressions? Typicals raise and lower their eyebrows. Does that mean something? They contort their faces, grin excessively, snarl, and wave their hands around for no apparent reason. What are you? An orchestra conductor? Give it a break. But then when aspies have little tick, rock back and forth, or stem, they think we're possessed. Different strokes. Different folks. Different languages.
The years passed. I wonder how many people have been offended because I failed to say the right phrase at the right time? Or who may have been aghast when I spoke out of turn? When I was too loud or, more likely, made no sound at all? I'll never know. And what about the time I farted in church? Okay. I'll give you that one. I knew it was socially unacceptable. But daydreaming gets boring and, you'll have to admit, it's better than snoring.
Sorry. We just can't speak fluent typical.
Then I wonder how many typicals wonder if they've offended me by not speaking my language. Probably none. Few typicals understand autistics. None speak fluent autism.
Life is about learning. And so I've learned, with some discomfort, to try to communicate with this odd mass of people called typicals. I guess it won't hurt to say something beyond "fine" when they ask how I am. Yes, I've learned to small talk. It's silly, but I can do it.
Just don't confuse my masking with being typical. I'm not being typical, I'm being polite. I never have been typical. I never will be typical. And what's more, I don't want to be typical.
But I do want to be considerate.
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