Tag Archives: body/mind

Autism ≠ Developmental Delay

There were few things that led us more astray than the idea of autism being a developmental delay.  Last week Emma wrote, “Autism is not a developmental delay, rather it is a different road entirely.” I was reminded of this last night as I watched a video from 2006 when we took Emma, who was then four-years old, to meet the late Stanley Greenspan.  (This post is not about Stanley Greenspan or his method.  His name is brought up only because of the video that inspired this post.)

Watching that video last night was brutal.  The private hell of regret is a cruel place to linger.  Emma described her experience of watching the video last night as “wading into the marsh of worry and fear, but quiet love was there even when the days were dark.”   In typical Emma-fashion she generously and compassionately reminded me that it was not all an unmitigated hell.  Unable to communicate her complex and insightful thoughts with spoken language, she languished for years in an abyss of being constantly underestimated and misunderstood.  Because people assumed  she spoke what she intended and meant, she was penalized for the words she managed to utter.  “Do you want to go fast or slow?”  “Do you want to stop or go?”  “Do you want to open the door or close it?”

Again and again the video shows us making assumptions about her actions.  We assume she has no interest in engaging.  We assume she doesn’t want to spend time with us.  We assume she is “in her own world.”  We make assumptions and we behave according to those mistaken beliefs.  We believed each word was a milestone, paving the way for more language acquisition.  We believed it made sense.  Lay the foundation, create a strong base of words for more to follow…  Use your words, use your words, use your words…

The assumption that her spoken language represented her comprehension and intelligence and therefore we needed to push for more was never disputed.  This idea of a developmental delay bled into every single aspect of her being.  It was believed that her speech was delayed, as were her fine and gross motor skills.  Therapies were structured around this concept.  All held the promise that if we did intensive, ongoing therapy she would one day, catch up, particularly if we did this during that brief window of opportunity, before she turned three, and then four, maybe if we were lucky, we hoped, the window would still remain open at five, what about six?  At the time we didn’t question any of this.  Had we known then that she probably already knew how to read, had we understood that what she said, was not representative of her intelligence or indicative of what she understood or knew, if we’d known that autism was not a developmental delay, but rather a “different road entirely”, it would have changed the path we proceeded down.

As it was, we did not know.  We listened to the many professionals we consulted.  Well meaning professionals, often incredibly kind and thoughtful, a few even brilliant, but none, not a single one ever mentioned the concept of a body/mind disconnect or how that might apply to our daughter.  It never once occurred to me that maybe, just maybe what she said was not what she intended to say.  It did not enter my mind that when she didn’t answer a question it was because she knew the answer, but couldn’t say the words, this thought, this idea was not something I even knew to consider.  We would learn about all of this much, much later and when we did hear these ideas, it came from the most unexpected source – our own daughter, Emma.  Not only was she the person we least expected to enlighten us, but she did so, not through spoken language, but by typing.  Eight years ago, I don’t know that I would have believed any of this, let alone that Emma would write about all of this in such detail, as she has in these posts:

Emma’s Presentation

Tomorrow’s Presentation

“Rethinking Your Beliefs About Autism”

When the Body Does not Obey the Mind

Parents who are just getting a diagnosis for their young children have so many more resources available to them than we had in 2004.  The most important being, blogs written by Autistic people of all ages, non-speakers, speakers, semi-speakers and everyone in between.  It is the writings and friendships I now am fortunate enough to enjoy, that have helped me more than anything else.  One day I hope the professionals parents are introduced to will be Autistic professionals.

My friend Bridget of the blog, It’s Bridget’s Word said to me, “The ‘delay’ concept is a trap. Development is not linear no matter how many folk whose livelihood depends on timetables try to make it.”

Cynthia Kim, author of Nerdy, Shy and Socially Inappropriate ,  I Think I Might be Autistic, the blog Musings of An Aspie and owner of StimTastic said, “That waiting to catch up feeling is so insidious and one that I subconsciously lived with for a long time.”

My friend Ibby, educator and author of the blog, Tiny Grace Notes, who is like family to me, said, “Speaking now as an education professor: “developmental delay” is an actual category under the IDEA which is not allowed to be used after the age of eight. The purpose of it was to give people with conditions in which they might “catch up” a chance to do so, and the doctors more time to pinpoint their diagnostics if not. If you look at the lists for most states of what conditions might cause “developmental delay” to be diagnosed before age 5 (as it has to be in most states) it makes some sense as being this sort of thing. Autism is not a “delay” but a condition causing atypical (as opposed to delayed but still on the same track of typical) development.”

Ibby added, “In short, this is not only dangerous and unhelpful but technically ignorant even if separated from the consequences.”

So what are the consequences of believing autism is a developmental delay?

Well, for us it meant constantly comparing our daughter to her non autistic peers (using their development, and not hers, as the ideal).  It meant pursuing all kinds of therapies that never questioned the push for spoken language.  It meant not considering AAC devices, because she “had language.”  It meant encouraging my daughter to “use your words.”  It meant asking her to focus on things that made it impossible for her to concentrate on what was being taught.  It meant looking at her through the lens of deficits, so much so that they became blinders shutting out everything else.

There are so many things Emma can do, that I cannot.  Her mind, as she so beautifully described it, is a “wonder, channel changing, multi-screened on fast forward” thing of beauty that defies all limits placed upon it.  My daughter amazes me every, single day.  As always, Emma said it best and it bears repeating, “Autism is not a developmental delay, rather it is a different road entirely” and what an amazing road it is!

Emma - 2006

Emma – 2006

Saying One Thing, Meaning Another

First – here is the video of Emma’s and my presentation at the ICare4Autism Conference on July 2nd in New York City – “My Body Does Not Obey My Mind”.

Emma ended our presentation by singing one of her favorite songs, You’ll never see me again.  We uploaded this separately and changed it from “public” to  “unlisted” as someone has already given her singing performance a “thumbs down”.  As with anything that is “public” on the internet, one can expect to get those who are so troubled and filled with self-loathing they cannot control their wish to hurt others.

We may make a new video that includes both the presentation and her singing. At which point we will remove this video of just her singing performance so that only those who watch the full presentation will be able to watch her singing at the end, but have not done so yet.  In the meantime here it is, though this link may only work until we’ve made the new video.

As Richard edited the video of our presentation I became uncomfortably aware of how, in my desire to amplify Emma’s voice, I tried to keep her from applauding and kept trying to read her words over the applause.  This presentation was the first full length presentation we’ve done together, so there were a couple of things I will be sure not to repeat next time.  In addition to my issues, the font size needed to be about 30 times larger for such a big room and the activated voice needed to be miked and next time you can be sure I will be applauding Emma right along with the audience, waiting until the applause died down before attempting to read her words.

This morning I was reminded of how Emma, when asked, “How old are you?”  will, without hesitation and in a matter-of-fact voice, say, “Nine.”  If I give her the keyboard she will then type, “I am 12.”  When I asked her to talk about what it was like to say something, knowing it wasn’t “correct.”  She wrote, “Hearing myself say words that cause confused reactions, solidifying doubt, makes people befuddled and causes me anxiety.”

I asked Emma if she was willing to say more.  She wrote, “The words are not friendly when they march purposefully from my mouth, ignoring my brain’s direct orders, like obstinate and unruly toddlers defying all.  Words pouring forth like water after a dam break, do not pay attention to me.  I am so used to it I no longer fight.  I dread the smiling talkers who insist on spoken language as proof of being and serious thought.  Humor and a reminder to not take themselves so seriously is my loving suggestion for all.”

I asked Emma why she chose this image for today's blog post.  She wrote, "I was so happy riding the horse and this post makes me happy too!"

I asked Emma why she chose this image for today’s blog post. She wrote, “I was so happy riding the horse and this post makes me happy too!”

 

Asking Emma

Imagine for a moment if you had an idea.  It was an idea that was in keeping with a conversation taking place by others in the same room as you, but when you opened your mouth to share your thought, instead of using words that would convey what you were thinking you said something that sounded like, “Peacock!”  Not only did you say “Peacock!” but your voice was loud, some would suggest you were shouting, even though you hadn’t meant to shout, even though you weren’t thinking of a peacock, that was the sound that came from your mouth.

Now imagine that, in addition to this, you smiled and maybe laughed too.  Maybe you laughed because as you said what sounded like “peacock” you were also hit with a memory of a time that was funny, or maybe saying those two syllables made you happy, maybe the act of saying them made you laugh, or maybe you laughed, but nothing struck you as funny, the laughter was merely a response to anxiety or maybe it wasn’t any of these things.  Maybe the laughter just escaped from your mouth, unbidden.

Whatever the “truth”is about why the person suddenly shouts what sounds like “peacock!” and then laughs, while others are having a conversation about global warming or are discussing their concerns with a project they’re working on or are talking to each other about what to have for dinner, they are unlikely to assume the peacock shouter is listening to their conversation, much less that they have anything relevant to add.  In fact, the people having the conversation may regard this outburst as an intrusion, or an unwelcome distraction.  Or maybe they don’t, instead they stop their conversation and smile, or laugh and say something like, “is that funny?”  “Are you thinking of something funny?” or “Oh!  Do you like peacocks?” and when all of this is met with silence or some other utterance unrelated to both peacocks and the conversation they were having, they continue  with what they were saying to the other person.

Richard is good about saying to me, “we should ask Emma” or “Emma, what do you think?” or “Let’s find out if Emma has anything to add” or just turning to Emma and saying, “Hey Em, we’re talking about _____.”  Including Emma in our conversations is not something we regularly did.  It’s not that we never did, it just wasn’t something we regularly did.  Including Emma in conversations was not something we once considered doing, not because we didn’t want to, but because it didn’t occur to us that she was listening and understanding, much less had something she might like to add.  This is where her being able to write her thoughts has changed everything.

Once we began presuming her competent we began including her, but as she didn’t have a way to express herself, the – “do you have something you want to add? or so what do you think?” questions were not asked of her.  But once she began writing, all bets were off.  Suddenly and quite dramatically her words propelled me to reconsider even more what I’d once thought.  All of my assumptions, all those misunderstandings, I now view differently.  Now when Emma shouts, “peacock” I do not assume she is interested in talking about the colorful bird.  She may be, but she may not be.  But and this is a big but, I’m able to ask her and she is able to reply.

Emma has written often that the words that come out of her mouth do not always reflect her thoughts.  I used to think that whatever she said out loud, was indicative of what she was capable of and, in addition, was what she intended to say.  My misunderstanding of what was going on for her made for a great many misunderstandings.  Had Emma not found a way to communicate, had she not found a way to write what she knows, thinks and feels, many people would not question that her spoken language is representative of her mind.  They would not be able to believe that she has the complex and brilliantly observant mind that she has.  For most people this is a very difficult concept to fully grasp.  It has taken me daily exposure to such a mind to begin to stop making incorrect assumptions about not just my daughter, but all people I meet who do not speak or whose language is not an accurate reflection of their thoughts.

Emma

Emma

“Put it on the Blog!”

“Put it on the blog!” Emma said with glee as she bounded into the house. A master at multi-tasking, she twirled her string, unzipped her coat and raced off to put on some music all within seconds of opening the front door.  I knew what she wanted to put on the blog.  She’d successfully completed a catch in Trapeze School that morning.  I knew it had been recorded.  So… here it is, for all of you to see.


Yesterday afternoon Emma wrote some pretty wonderful stuff about how her body and mind are often not in sync and what that’s like for her.  We taped some of it and once I have her permission and we’ve uploaded it, I will attempt to post it here.

Earlier I showed Emma a NYTimes article about the missing Malaysian Airlines jet leaving Kuala Lumpur heading to Beijing.  I asked Emma what she thought and she wrote, “It is terrible and worrisome for all of us.”  I then asked if she had any questions and she wrote, “Has anyone asked for anything yet?”  I asked her if she meant a ransom note of some kind, to which she answered, “yes.”

I write this as an example of the sorts of things we discuss these days and because there are some who continue to doubt Emma is capable of understanding such things…