Tag Archives: empathy

((((((Emma)))))), Facebook, Twitter, Blogs and Other Joys

When you look at the title to this post do you read it to mean – Hugging Emma, Facebook, Twitter, Blogs and Other Joys?

(If you answered yes, you are correct.  ((((Insert name)))) = Hugging.  The more parentheses, the bigger the hug.)

Within the autism community where Facebook reigns as the ultimate gathering place, the use of emoticons, ways of expressing emotions and physical actions, are commonplace.  I would argue that within the autism community the use of emoticons is more prevalent than within the neuromajority population.  But I need verification from my Autistic friends before I make such a statement.  It’s a thought based on my observations and interactions.  Which, by the way, speaks as much against Simon Baron-Cohen‘s various theories about Autists lacking empathy and a desire for interactions as it does to the level of support, gestures of kindness and friendships that are developed and maintained over the internet.  (I just submitted an amended version of my recent post – An Empathic Debunking of the Theory of Mind – to Huffington Post so he’s very much on my mind these days.  I’ll give an update when I see if and when it’s been published over there.)

Facebook, a crowded virtual space where conversations overlap, people you’ve never met interject themselves into a conversation before moving on, friendships are formed, rekindled and developed, strangers “poke” you to say hi, even if the only connection you have is that you both occupy space in that crazy mosh pit that Facebook single-handedly created.  If you think about it in these terms, Linkin has a more conservative, suit and tie required at the door feel to it, I haven’t figured out where twitter falls in all of this, maybe it’s akin to speed dating, while blogs are the mothership, making the insanity over at Facebook all the more raucous and surprising.

It must be said, I hated Facebook when it began.  I refused to join, I felt indignant when people would discuss their “friends” or about something that had gone “viral.”  Who cares?  Who has the time?   I scoffed.  This is just a bunch of people with way too much time on their hands.   And then I would settle back to my tenth game of Spider, while reminding myself that I really should get some sleep.  But eventually I joined.  For business reasons, I told myself.  This is a pattern for me.  I observe, remain on the side lines, dip a toe in the murky waters, sit back, observe some more and then dive head first into the deep end, blissfully unaware of any rocks that may lurk under the surface.  I’m not encouraging this approach, it’s just an honest assessment of what I have a tendency to do.

Yesterday I was a mess.  For those of you who reached out, thank you.  I was teetering on the edge, trying to keep it together, not doing a great job, but doing my best to work, taking on one small task at a time.  And then my friend stepped in and held out her virtual hand.  (((((( Insert Name ))))))  Like a life line, she held her hand out and gently pulled me off the ledge.   Lots of emoticons were used.  I’m not fluent in emoticon, but she’s been a kind and patient teacher.  Did I mention she’s Autistic, not that it matters, except that it does, if only for this reason:  Autistics aren’t suppose to be like that.  That’s what we neurotypicals are taught.  Right?  It’s what all those autism specialists tell us, right?

She sat with me, literally, while I wept.  ((((((((((Insert my friend’s name)))))))))   She said all the right things and by the time we both went back to work, I was laughing.  But wait, that can’t be right.  She must not be autistic, because she doesn’t fit the mold.  Right?  Isn’t that what we do when someone defies a stereotype, instead of re-examining the stereotype, we relabel the person?  Can we all agree to toss this insane theory about Autists lacking empathy, lacking a desire for interaction and friendship?  Can we please just stop it?  Imagine if you tried to reach out to someone, only to have them reject you because of some mistaken idea they had about who you are and how you are supposed to behave?

Which brings me back to Emma.  My beautiful daughter.  I don’t know if she’s already aware of these stereotypes and how they apply to her.  My guess is, she is.  It’s one of the many things I wish I could control and change.  But I cannot.  What I can do is make sure she knows that I am here, supporting her, encouraging her, with my arms open for those times when she needs to feel them wrapped around her securely in loving embrace, just as my friend did to me yesterday.

(((((((Emma)))))))

An Empathic Debunking of the Theory Of Mind

Simon Baron-Cohen, the man who has single-handedly done more damage to the perception of Autistics than any other human being (though there are arguably a number of people vying for that title), depresses me.

I need to say that before continuing.

Simon Baron-Cohen developed the “Theory of Mind” based on the results from the now famous “Sally-Anne” test.  The Sally-Anne test, where the child is shown two dolls, is an example of dubious “science.”  Sally has a basket in front of her, while Anne has a box.  Sally, presumably made to move by an adult, which further complicates the test, puts a marble into her basket and leaves the room.  While she is gone, Anne takes the marble from Sally’s basket and places it in the box.  When Sally returns, the child is asked, “Where will Sally look for the marble?”  Only 20% of the Autistic children were able to correctly answer the question – Sally will look in her basket.

Emma, typically, when asked what one of her doll’s name is, will reply, “Doll” or “girl.”  This is just one example of Emma’s literal mind at work.  She is not wrong, her doll is a doll and yes, she is a girl.  To take away any other conclusion from her answer would be ridiculous.

Yet, from this “test” Simon Baron-Cohen concluded, “that the core problem in autism is the inability to think about other peoples, or one’s own thoughts.”

Except that his test did not take into consideration the level of anxiety, stress or mood of the Autistic participants at the time of testing.  Nor did it take into account the language issues, pronoun challenges or literal thinking many Autists have, which the test inevitably presented.  In addition Simon Baron-Cohen based his theory, which is taken by many as proven fact, on assumptions that the Autistic participants understood the question.  He then set about publicizing his theory, which inadvertently or not, is used by many in the neuromajority to abuse and mistreat the very people whom he categorizes as lacking empathy.  Does anyone else see a problem here?

When Emma was diagnosed I came upon the Theory of Mind paper early on in my research.  I remember thinking that this explained why, when any of us were upset, Emma seemed oblivious.  But as I continued along the road of educating myself, coupled with observing my daughter, I began to question his theory.  I read about Autistics who avoided looking in people’s eyes because it was too intense.  One Autist described it as akin to seeing into a person’s soul.  Other’s talked about how they could sense immediately upon entering a room, the various occupants emotional state and became so overwhelmed they would seek refuge in a corner, try to leave or would stim as a way to counter the intensity of what they were experiencing.

There are times when Emma will, with outstretched arm, put her hand out in front of her face like a shield.  Often it is done, I believe, as a response to the intensity of feelings, either hers or others or both, or as Jessy Park, Clara Claiborne Park’s daughter was quoted as saying, “It’s too good.”   Landon Bryce over on his terrific blog, thAutcast has a wonderful video of an Autistic artist, Tina, who talks about how she trained herself to look into people’s eyes because she paints portraits.  It is a beautiful video, as is she.

What struck me, after reading half a dozen articles and interviews by and with Simon Baron-Cohen, is the damage he is doing.  His most recent book, Zero Degrees of Empathy, (which I am not providing a link for on purpose) where he includes Autistics along with psychopaths and borderline personality disorder as examples of groups who lack empathy will further the suffering of Autistics.  For a man who claims Autists lack empathy, he is bizarrely unaware of his own lack of empathy.

For those who would like to read an opposing theory and one that seems much more in keeping with what I see demonstrated by not only my daughter, but the many Autistics I have had the honor of getting to know, read this interview with Henry Markram.

Feelings

Emma’s friend, Charlie was upset yesterday.  No one knew what was wrong or why he was so sad.  However Emma went over to Charlie and comforted him.  These are the kinds of things parents are always pleased to hear.  As our children grow older, we come to expect such displays of empathy, even questioning our children when they do not respond this way.

In 1985 Simon Baron-Cohen developed a theory he called mindblindness, suggesting that children with autism have an impaired ability to make sense of others and their own feelings.  He has since amended mindblindness to E-S theory (empathizing-systemizing theory.)  Many people, when confronted with an autistic person’s inability to acknowledge or respond appropriately to their emotional state, assume that person does not care.

Before Emma was diagnosed, I learned of a friend’s death and was crying.  Nic ran over and immediately asked what was wrong and why was I crying, while Emma continued to look at a book.  At the time I thought she was more interested in her book or perhaps didn’t notice I was upset, but I remember feeling a certain uneasiness about, what I believed was, her lack of empathy.  As I have read more about autism and the problems in reading people’s emotions, I see her non-responsiveness as an inability to make sense of  my emotional state rather than indifference.  As Emma grows older, she has become increasingly curious about emotions of all kinds.

“Rip Good Night Moon, make Becky angry.  No you cannot rip Good Night Moon!”  Emma has said, referring to something that happened well over a year ago at her school.  One of Emma’s favorite books is “The Way I Feel.”   A book describing emotions with illustrations reflecting those feelings.  When Emma’s brother Nic is upset Emma, much to Nic’s annoyance, will attempt to make sense of Nic’s upset. “Nicky’s crying.  Nicky wants to go on the carousel,” Emma will say.  Or “Nicky’s angry.  Nicky doesn’t want to go to bed.”  Emma will apply her own reasons for being sad or angry with things that make her feel those things and becomes confused when we explain that Nic is upset or angry about something entirely different.  Still, she is doing her best to make sense of what she is seeing.  She will almost always try to comfort Nic, even if she has come to incorrect conclusions regarding the reasons for his feelings.

For more on Emma’s journey through a childhood of autism, go to:   Emma’s Hope Book

Empathy and Autism

My thinking on this topic has changed since I last posted about Emma and Empathy over a year ago.  I am not convinced that Emma “has a terrible time figuring out what another person is thinking or feeling.”  Today that is not something I would say.  I often wonder if Emma feels things in the extreme rather than not at all.  I have read a great many articles written by people on the spectrum who describe their feelings and responses to other people’s emotions as being too much for them.

One young woman, Dora, says:  ”I often feel things too deeply or have too much empathy and have to run away, not because I am callous, but because I feel so strongly it causes my brain to shut down or freak out.”    Her statement is similar to another woman with autism, who’s amazing mother, Clara Claiborne Park wrote two books about her daughter, Jessy.  She describes how Jessy would cover her ears and could not tolerate certain words because they were “too good”.

When one of us is upset and Emma appears to completely disregard our emotional state, whether by ignoring it or making sympathetic comments, which to our ears strikes us as insincere, I have to question whether our interpretation is accurate.  How can we know what she is really experiencing?  We cannot.    I choose to believe Emma is deeply sensitive to her  own and our emotions, but just as she has trouble expressing herself verbally, she may express her feelings differently as well.

Dora goes on to point out:  ”The notion that we don’t have feelings frees up people to commit atrocities against us without accountability.”

When I hear neuro-typical people discussing autism I am often surprised by the conclusions they come to.  How differently might we treat someone if we believed them to be fundamentally unintelligent?  How would we speak to them?  What things would we say because we believed they have a low IQ, lack empathy, could not understand us?  How would we treat them as a direct result of our assumptions?   If we decide a child’s behavior is a form of manipulation or because the child is “spoiled” or because they “think they can get away with it”, do we not treat them differently?  Isn’t it true we can behave in some pretty horrific ways when we make assumptions about other’s actions?  Isn’t it easy to rationalize our behavior when we’ve decided a person or child is “dumb”, “less than”, “inferior”, cognitively unaware”?  And what if all those assumptions we’ve so quickly and easily come to are completely wrong?  How does our response stand up under further scrutiny?  Have we not behaved with callous disregard?  Have we not completely “disregarded” their “feelings”?

For more on Emma’s journey through a childhood of autism and her relationship with her brother, Nic go to: www.EmmasHopeBook.com

Emma in Union Square Park – Summer, 2011