I cannot recall much of my half-century-plus life, and almost nothing positive, probably because I spend my ‘present’ anxious about my future and depressed over my past. For me, that includes a fear of how badly I will emotionally deal with the negative or horrible event — which usually doesn’t occur — and especially if I’ll also conclude that I'm at fault. It would therefore be great if there could be some valuable academic or clinical use from it all — to create or extract from it some practical positivity and purpose — so that all of the suffering will not have been in vain.
My autism spectrum disorder is an obvious condition with which I greatly struggle(d) while unaware until I was a half-century old that its component dysfunctions had formal names. Then, again, had I been aware back in the 1970s and ’80s I likely would’ve kept it a secret nevertheless, especially at school, lest the A-word [autism] gets immediately followed by the F-word [freak].
Realistically, while children with ‘low-functioning’ ASD seem to be more recognizable thus treated in school systems, high-er (as opposed to high) functioning ASD students — who tend to not exhibit the more overt, debilitating symptoms of autism — are more likely to be left to fend for themselves, except if their parents can finance specialized education.
Nevertheless, if it is feasible, parents should seriously consider not enrolling their high-er functioning ASD child in regular, ‘neurotypical’ grade school.
As a boy with an undiagnosed autism spectrum disorder, my public-school Grade 2 teacher was the first and most formidably abusive authority figure with whom I was terrifyingly trapped. Though there were other terrible teachers, for me she was uniquely traumatizing, especially when she wore her large, dark sunglasses when dealing with me.
Rather than tell anyone about my ordeal with her and consciously feel victimized, I instead felt some misplaced shame: I was a ‘difficult’ boy, therefore she likely perceived me as somehow ‘deserving it’. But not being mentally, let alone physically, abused within or by an educational system is definitely a moral right; I was simply unable to see this.
Perhaps schoolteachers should receive training in high-er functioning ASD, especially if the rate of autism diagnoses is increasing. There could also be an inclusion in standard high school curriculum of child-development science that would also teach students about the often-debilitating condition.
Neurodiversity lessons, while not overly complicated or extensive, might help reduce the incidence of chronic bullying against such vulnerable students. It would explain to students how, among other aspects of the condition, people with high-er functioning ASD are often deemed willfully ‘difficult’ and socially incongruent, when in fact such behavior is really not a ‘choice’.
It would also elucidate how “camouflaging” or “masking,” terms used to describe higher-functioning ASD people pretending to naturally fit into a socially ‘normal’ environment, causes their already high anxiety and depression levels to further increase. And that this exacerbation is reflected in the disproportionately elevated rate of suicide among them.
So true! I was not diagnosed until age 16. I write autism too, check out my page and subscribe!
Unfortunately, not every ASD child’s parent(s) can afford the relatively high cost of a professional’s diagnosis.
Knowledge/education is so key. ...
I cannot recall much of my half-century-plus life, and almost nothing positive, probably because I spend my ‘present’ anxious about my future and depressed over my past. For me, that includes a fear of how badly I will emotionally deal with the negative or horrible event — which usually doesn’t occur — and especially if I’ll also conclude that I'm at fault. It would therefore be great if there could be some valuable academic or clinical use from it all — to create or extract from it some practical positivity and purpose — so that all of the suffering will not have been in vain.
My autism spectrum disorder is an obvious condition with which I greatly struggle(d) while unaware until I was a half-century old that its component dysfunctions had formal names. Then, again, had I been aware back in the 1970s and ’80s I likely would’ve kept it a secret nevertheless, especially at school, lest the A-word [autism] gets immediately followed by the F-word [freak].
Realistically, while children with ‘low-functioning’ ASD seem to be more recognizable thus treated in school systems, high-er (as opposed to high) functioning ASD students — who tend to not exhibit the more overt, debilitating symptoms of autism — are more likely to be left to fend for themselves, except if their parents can finance specialized education.
Nevertheless, if it is feasible, parents should seriously consider not enrolling their high-er functioning ASD child in regular, ‘neurotypical’ grade school.
As a boy with an undiagnosed autism spectrum disorder, my public-school Grade 2 teacher was the first and most formidably abusive authority figure with whom I was terrifyingly trapped. Though there were other terrible teachers, for me she was uniquely traumatizing, especially when she wore her large, dark sunglasses when dealing with me.
Rather than tell anyone about my ordeal with her and consciously feel victimized, I instead felt some misplaced shame: I was a ‘difficult’ boy, therefore she likely perceived me as somehow ‘deserving it’. But not being mentally, let alone physically, abused within or by an educational system is definitely a moral right; I was simply unable to see this.
Perhaps schoolteachers should receive training in high-er functioning ASD, especially if the rate of autism diagnoses is increasing. There could also be an inclusion in standard high school curriculum of child-development science that would also teach students about the often-debilitating condition.
Neurodiversity lessons, while not overly complicated or extensive, might help reduce the incidence of chronic bullying against such vulnerable students. It would explain to students how, among other aspects of the condition, people with high-er functioning ASD are often deemed willfully ‘difficult’ and socially incongruent, when in fact such behavior is really not a ‘choice’.
It would also elucidate how “camouflaging” or “masking,” terms used to describe higher-functioning ASD people pretending to naturally fit into a socially ‘normal’ environment, causes their already high anxiety and depression levels to further increase. And that this exacerbation is reflected in the disproportionately elevated rate of suicide among them.