Thursday, March 28, 2024

Tell Your Story on Elders Speaking

 


Elders Speaking group blog celebrates elders -- their wisdom, their creativity, and their reflections.     

Browse through our past submissions.  You’ll find a variety of topics and styles of writing, including poetry from published and unpublished poets.  

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Two Books About Autism Recommended by Elder Debuli

 


I started reading about teenagers with autism to help me understand my 14-year-old granddaughter, who has autism.  I had not read much since she was diagnosed at the age of two. The following books were informative and interesting.

Autism in Heels: The Untold story of Female life on the Spectrum by Jennifer Cook O'Toole, published 2018.  The author's husband and two children have high-functioning autism, formerly called Asperger's.  She was also diagnosed with the same in her thirties. Previously, she wrote a book in 2012 that has become very popular: The Asperkid's Secret Book of Social Rules, which helps kids on the spectrum to learn social cues.  Autism in Heels was well written and gave me many insights about how women/girls with autism can be overlooked, especially those with anorexia.  

Unmasking Autism:  Discovering the New Faces of Neurodiversity by Devon Price, published 2022.  The author is a high-functioning autistic.  He definitely puts a new face on autism by emphasizing the gifts that autistic persons bring to our society and the challenges they face as they enter the work world.  He opened my mind to accept more neurodiversity in our world and see autism as a gift rather than an abnormality.  The title refers to the fact that autistic persons feel they need to hide parts of their personality to "fit in."

Submitted By Elder Debuli


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Thursday, March 21, 2024

Part II: "The Metamorphosis of My Autistic Daughter" by C. Burr

 

I have permission from Christina, my mildly autistic daughter, to continue her story in the second part of a series (See Part I: “What’s Wrong With Me? Growing up With Autism.) 

Writing about my daughter’s struggles with autism has not been easy--it releases old wounds and reminders of embarrassing behaviors.  Her narrative, however, also reveals strong and virtuous characteristics that she developed over time. I’m continually amazed at Christina's persistence and creativity as she adapts to a world that doesn’t understand autism.

According to the Centers for Disease Control, one out of thirty-two children were identified with Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD) in 2020.  If Christina were six years old today, she would have probably received a diagnosis of ASD and appropriate therapy when she was a toddler.  In 1990, however, only one child in five hundred was labeled "autistic," with violent behaviors requiring institutionalization.  Christina's mild behaviors--repetitive movements, rare smiling, not pointing to objects she desired, and more--were not considered significant during her development. [1]  Experts told me that she would outgrow those behaviors, social awkwardness, uncontrollable outbursts, and delayed speech.

Christina's communication and motor development lagged a year or more behind her peers.  In elementary school, she avoided skipping and jumping and she ran as if weights were strapped to her ankles.  Because she is left-handed, she struggled as a child with writing and using scissors--even those designed for lefties.  (10% of the general public is left-handed compared to 28% in the autistic population. [2] 

I awakened to Christina's sluggish motor development when she performed at a dance recital with other kindergarteners. She looked adorable in a white poodle costume and was noticeably taller than the four and five-year-old girls surrounding her. However, her confusion and lack of coordination were obvious from the start.  She turned to the left when the others went right and shot her arms up when the other team members put their hands to their waists.  She looked lost.  After the routine, the girls laughed and talked amongst themselves. When my daughter tried to communicate, her speech was loud and nonsensical.  

Physical and social awkwardness followed Christina throughout elementary school, but she never gave up trying to talk to her peers and develop friendships.  Two girls in her class became good friends.  One of them lived two blocks away and visited frequently.  Giggles radiated from her room as they played with Cabbage Patch dolls and Barbies and danced to "Achy Breaky Heart."

Sixth grade ushered in new games and hurt feelings.  Her best friend avoided her and spread cruel rumors--something most of us went through as teens.  Understandably, Christina was devastated by the betrayal.  One day she refused to go back to school.

Then, she did something rather remarkable for a twelve-year-old with learning disabilities (and undiagnosed ASD).  After the emotional outbursts settled down and without my knowledge, she looked up the phone number of a Christian school on the other side of town and made an appointment with the principal. She reasoned that she would be treated better among Christian children.  Impressed by her rationale and determination, we were willing to let her try it.

Unfortunately, the new school could not accommodate Christina's special educational needs nor could she establish friendships.  By seventh grade, she returned to public middle school, where too many distractions created more anxiety and outbursts.  After she was lured into three separate and potentially dangerous situations, I made an appointment with a child psychologist.

Christina met with her doctor for four years.  He encouraged my husband and me to be patient with her hysterics, anxiety, and poor choices, which wasn't easy with a naive, impulsive teen who reacted to discipline with childish tantrums.  Fortunately, she responded to his mild demeanor and suggestions.  He encouraged us to place our daughter in a small public school (in a neighboring small town) that provided special education and a locked-door policy.  He looked me in the eyes and said I needed to teach her how to advocate for herself because finding and keeping a job would be tough for  her.

I always envisioned possibilities in Christina--that she could learn how to navigate through this unpredictable world, but I also understood that she needed our guidance and protection as she approached adulthood.  We had to be extra cautious of the teen years. I envisioned myself holding a glass jar, watching a caterpillar (Christina) inside, hanging on a clipped sprig of dill.  The jar protected her while she persistently munched on the stem and its flowers until her gangly body transformed into a chrysalis with a tough shell, which allowed a lovely metamorphosis within. At the right time--when she began emerging from the cocoon with folded wings--I would set the jar outside and watch her inch her way to the mouth of the jar and take off.  

---

Christina's tattered wings held strong while she navigated through various endeavors and she developed one of her strongest characteristics--persistence.  She persisted through high school, two technical school certificates, and two state exams for Nurse's Assistant and Medication Aide.  At twenty-six, she persisted until she graduated with an Associate degree in Office Business Administration.

While Christina pursued post-secondary education, she armed herself with copies of her IEPs explaining her learning disabilities and advocated for tutoring and for more time taking exams.  One time an instructor accused her of cheating, but Christina overcame her frustration and hurt feelings and made an appointment with the instructor.  I observed the meeting, never saying a word, as Christina calmly presented her case with evidence.  The teacher reversed her decision and gave my daughter the passing grade she deserved.

Reasoning, however, rarely succeeded in the numerous low-paying jobs she has had since graduating. After several employers or managers “yelled” at her for not comprehending instructions or not functioning as a multitasker, she tried to schedule meetings to calmly talk through the situation like she did with the instructor.  Her requests were usually ignored. Even when she explained her learning difficulties and wrote notes to her nursing supervisor for help, the notes ended up in the trash. She has been accused of making excuses when she tried to explain her needs and of overreacting when openly criticized in front of co-workers and patients.

When Christina was almost 35 years old, she was diagnosed with Autism Spectrum Disorder.

Since most communication is spontaneous, Christina, like many adults with autism, struggles with bizarre word usage, misunderstanding directives, and misreading nonverbal clues, such as facial expressions. After intimidating confrontations, she finds it difficult to control her tears and escapes to a bathroom where she can calm herself. 

Reading up to three books a month has helped Christina's vocabulary, but she has difficulty describing plots.  When she attempts to communicate a new thought or tell a story, her word choice seems out of sync.  She can sound uneducated; however, if given the time to express herself, she is quite clever.  She often misreads social cues.  A colleague who is concentrating on a project might appear angry to Christina and she will obsess for days that the person is mad at her.  

There is no cure for ASD.  Christina manages her disorder by joking about a misused word or taking a deep breath when talking to a disgruntled client on the phone.  Communication is challenging when supervisors and co-workers are as stressed as she is.  Like so many underpaid staff, Christina has bounced around the job market, working at over ten different offices, agencies, and facilities in fifteen years.  Despite her punctuality and diligence, her job performance reviews, which focus on production and multitasking, are often less than satisfactory.

---

Christina has been hesitant to mention her disorder in interviews, thinking the company may not hire someone with ASD. [3] However, after she is hired for a job, she becomes overwhelmed in an understaffed environment with too many directives, too many tasks, and too many phone calls. 

Despite challenging traits, Christina has typical ASD strengths, which she mentions in job applications and interviews:  She is punctual (lateness causes stress), remains laser-focused on a single task, and obeys rules.  She has above-average computer skills and is polite.  She has also learned to smile genuinely, to listen more, and to talk less.  And yet, these benefits are ignored during performance reviews that focus on increased production and multitasking, such as answering phones, while listening to multiple and conflicting directives, updating appointments, filling out forms, and other last-minute activities.

Can anyone truly multitask with consistent, positive outcomes?

Stanford psychology professor Clifford Nass claimed in a 2013 interview that multitasking among students and workers (even those without ASD) can harm concentration, creativity, and efficiency--"wast[ing] more time than it saves." [4] Christina would add to his assessment that multitasking can increase stress and anxiety, which is probably true for most people, but in someone with ASD, the noise and commotion are louder and more distracting.  

Even before she knew she had autism, Christina had asked for, but rarely received, sensible adjustments that could potentially create an environment with less stress for herself and her coworkers on the nursing floor or in an office: 

  • Supply a manual with written instructions on how to do the job. 
  • Write or text any changes to instructions and directives. 
  • Provide a list of tasks in the order you would like them addressed. 
  • If employers and managers have a complaint about job performance, schedule a meeting and make suggestions for improvement. Never scold an employee in public.

---

A while back, Christina and I experienced heartbreak—again. She thought she had been performing well at work and looked forward to a raise. When she called me, her voice was shaky and thick with disappointment as she explained how she suffered through a “bad review.”  There would be no raise and she was asked to improve her output.

With hurtful past experiences in mind, she never told the owners she had autism during the original interview or after two performance reviews. “I didn’t want them to think I was making excuses!” Christina said. She tearfully ruminated over the number of times she had been misunderstood at other jobs, the number of times she had to search for employment. 

“All I want is to work!” she said between sobs. “I want to work hard!”

Christina's anxiety increased over thoughts she might be fired, calling me daily to discuss her dilemma. If she searched for new employment would disclosure of her autism on an application prevent her from getting an interview? Or should she keep her ASD to herself and try harder to prove she was capable, which was her strategy when she interviewed for her current job?

At the end of the week, I answered the phone, expecting more of the same and wishing I could help her feel better.  But instead of a depressed tone, she was ecstatic: “This is the best day of my life!”

She explained how she asked for a meeting with two of her bosses to explain her disorder. After handing them documents confirming her diagnosis of ASD, their response was something she had never heard before.  They asked what they could do to accommodate her and agreed she could focus on one task at a time at a desk away from constant disruptions.  Their compassion and kindness moved her (and me) to tears.

“This is HUGE,” Christina said. “They understand me.  Finally, I’m working for someone who understands me!”

 

--written with Christina’s permission by her mom C. Burr

People with ASD struggle to maintain relationships; however, Christina will celebrate ten years of marriage with her spouse in May 2024.  Feel free to send an encouraging message in the "comment" section below.

 

[1] A list of autistic behaviors of infants and children can be found online.  https://autismsa.org.au/autism-diagnosis/autism-symptoms/signs-of-autism-in-babies/

[2] Sebastian Ocklenburg Ph.D,  “Left-Handedness and Neurodiversity: A Surprising Link,” Psychology Today website, Dec. 18, 2022. https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/the-asymmetric-brain/202212/left-handedness-and-neurodiversity-a-surprising-link#

[3] It is illegal to not hire or fire people solely because of their ASD.

[4] “The Myth of Multitasking,” heard on “Talk of the Nation.” May 10, 2013. https://www.npr.org/2013/05/10/182861382/the-myth-of-multitasking


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Thursday, March 14, 2024

Part I: “‘What’s Wrong With Me?’-- Growing up with Autism” by C. Burr

 

Christina at age four

My daughter gave me permission to tell her story.  We both look forward to the day when others begin to understand autism and the bullying of autistic children (or any child) at school and of autistic adults (or any adult) at work will cease.  -- C. Burr

I knew something was different about my third baby.  Whenever I cuddled Christina, she didn’t readily smile at me like the boys did when they were infants.  At nine months, she didn’t coo or babble or play with her toes.  She was rarely content. She fussed and cried when there was too much activity in the house--and with two older brothers, there was plenty of noise. 

My concerns grew when Christina didn’t crawl until she was fifteen months old, didn’t respond to my voice when I called her name and never pointed to a cookie, a glass of milk, or anything else she wanted.  Even at two, she toddled into the kitchen and shrieked, waiting for me to guess whether she was hungry or thirsty. 

Because Christina was practically nonverbal as a toddler, numerous people suggested that her brothers talked for her.  I wasn’t convinced.  She spoke only a few words by her second birthday, rarely made eye contact, and often acted as if she didn’t hear us.  

Generally frustrated during playtime, Christina could become enraged when she tried to dress her dolls or put them in a stroller. When I ignored her tantrums—the discipline that worked with the boys--she spiraled into a tornadic fury.  Her pediatrician advised locking her in her room and with a soothing tone, speak to her through the closed door. My attempts, however, triggered louder screaming, kicking the door, and banging on the walls for over an hour.  The second and last time I tried the doctor’s locked-door suggestion, she screamed louder, kicked the door harder, and threw toys. She sent a glass penny bank and a small wooden chair crashing into the wall.  I could clean up the splinters and broken glass but what could I do for my daughter?

Besides uncontrollable temper tantrums, Christina displayed other behaviors that concerned me.

Sometimes, she crawled off to sit in a corner of our living room and flapped her arms like a fledgling or swayed her body back and forth or bumped her head against the walls.  Her actions reminded me of severely autistic children I had seen in films during my Child Psychology class. These institutionalized children displayed “stimming,” or self-stimulating, repetitive behaviors for hours. I wondered if my little girl might have a mild form of autism, but the experts I spoke with dismissed that idea. 

With my maternal instincts guiding me, I began hugging Christina tightly when she was upset.  Sometimes I would play soothing music and rock her while tickling her back, even though I had been advised by great-grandmothers that rocking a child would "spoil" her.  Within a few weeks when frustrated and distressed, she began holding out her hands to me and asking for a “hug”–one of the few words she would utter.  Soon, the destructive behavior lessened and the head-butting and other odd behaviors ended—at least in my presence.*

I was a stay-at-home mom and had read books on child development during my undergraduate classes in 1974.  I devoted hours to Christina's well-being by observing her behavior and applying different methods to gently guide her.  I searched for answers and talked to experts. However,  because psychologists, special education teachers, and social workers of the 1980s and 90s had not yet determined that there were degrees of autism, Christina was labeled as “immature” with significant delays in expressive and receptive language. She could catch up, they thought, with a lot of work and extra help. 

---

Throughout school, Christina scored near the twenty-fifth percentile in most subjects, despite my willingness to stay at home and give her extra attention.  We enrolled her in special needs pre-kindergarten classes when she was three and four years old.  I read to her every day, introduced various puzzles and games, and worked with flashcards as instructed by a speech pathologist. Even with my nurturing and dogged attention to her needs, her progress was slow, and at age six, she had to retake kindergarten.  She looked “normal” but learning new skills and socializing challenged her.  

Christina discovered she was “different” from other children around third grade when she was assigned a para to usher her into the hallway to take tests and to sit beside her during class. Soon, classmates began to disengage from her during conversations and walk away. Even in high school, girls wouldn't speak to her when she ran up to greet them at after-school functions, at the mall, or in church. She cried and lashed out at her brothers and me after she was bullied at school, which mostly took the form of ostracism. Occasionally, however, girls she thought were her friends spoke cruelly to her, which caused greater anxiety and acting out. Through hysterical sobs, she often asked, “What’s wrong with me?” 

A compassionate psychologist nurtured Christina and me through her teens, which were filled with angst and impulsive decisions that could have been disastrous.  The label “Attention Deficit Disorder” was tossed around. Medication for ADHD accentuated her anxiety and proved unhelpful, which didn’t surprise me because she was never “hyper” and was determined to learn. She could remain focused on her homework and know the answers, but any change in wording on a test derailed her.    No matter how hard she focused, she could not learn simple math, comprehend multiple instructions, or communicate with her peers without sounding “weird” —basic skills necessary for fast food employment, a job she could not manage as a teen.

 After graduating from high school with significant tutoring and adjusted grades, Christina discovered that the communication burdens she had known as a child followed her into technical school.  However, she persisted through multiple attempts to pass finals and state exams. She earned three certificates: Certified Nurse’s Aide, Medication Aide, and Office Administration.   Unlike school, she would learn, there were no paras or accommodations for a young woman with minor “learning disabilities” in the world of low-paying jobs. The understaffed state agencies promised but did not deliver assistance for job placement for a young woman with mild expressive and receptive language difficulties.

By the time Christina reached her 35th birthday, a battery of tests and the history I provided confirmed what I suspected years ago—my daughter grew up and continues to live with Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD).  For the first time in her life, Christina did not feel “stupid” and was relieved to have an answer for what was “wrong” with her.

---     

I frequently tell my autistic daughter that she has taught me more than any person I know about humility, persistence, and letting go. 

I learned to let go of my dreams for her to become a parent or a successful professional. I let go of American values that were never a fit for her, such as “If you try hard enough you can do anything, become anyone.”  Christina will never graduate from college or become a doctor, an astrophysicist, or a lawyer, but she persistently strives to be a compassionate, hardworking, and honest person.  

Because of Christina, I’m more patient with the person standing behind a fast-food counter who struggles making change when handed a twenty-dollar bill.  I learned that I can’t control her future or continue to advocate for her when she is unfairly treated on the job. 

 I’m also content with her and her spouse’s decision not to have children.  “What if they were like me?” she asked. “I wouldn’t want my children to grow up with autism—it was too hard.”

 submitted by Elder C. Burr

Part II  "The Metamorphosis of My Autistic Daughter" describes more characteristics and behaviors that challenge Christina as an employee and the benefits of hiring someone with autism. 

* My hugs worked for Christina, but other over-sensitive, autistic people might find Dr Temple Grandin’s “hug machine” a better option.  Grandin, who is autistic, understands from personal experience how deep-pressure stimulation can calm people with autism. 

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