Tangential Thinking

Okay, so if I told you that the post I was about to write was all connected in one way or another, you’d probably be like “Yeah right.” But it’s true. Although, if I were to trace out all of the connections, we’d be here all day. Really.

Aspies often think like that. You’ll be talking to one of us and abruptly, we’ll change the subject to something that will leave you feeling like “WTF???”

I’m sure that some people do this on purpose just for the effect it has on its audience; however, if the person you’re talking to is anything like me, the point isn’t that at all. It’s just that something in your earlier conversation sparked something in that person’s head that sparked something else that sparked something else that . . . you get the idea. And they think it’s way cool! So they just have to tell you–maybe this is ultimately the aspie’s downfall–and there you two go. If you’re smart, just go with it. If you try to find out the connection, you’ll probably end up more confused than when you started.

See now, the reason for that is that aspies don’t notice things like everyone else. So if we remember something, it’s unlikely to be in a way that makes sense to someone else. And then our brains do this thing where it squares the idea - I like that; aspie². Our brains take the original idea, connect it to something else, and then repeats the process for the new thing, ad nauseum. Eep.

Exactly.

So not only does the mention of _______’s name make me think of red t-shirts with yellow logos, but it also makes me think of red mouthpieces and college, mono, girls named Danielle, App State, music therapy and radio talk shows. And that’s a fairly benign example.

With that said, here are three ideas that I’ve run across in the past two days:

#1 - Beartwinsmom has tagged me for a 6 word meme. Since I’m too lazy to go back through my posts and check to see if I’ve done one of these, I’ll simply compromise and just not tag anyone. But anyone who wants to join in is welcome.

What you have to do is this: Describe yourself in 6 words. I really have this feeling that I did this somewhere, because one of the listservs I belong to started talking in only 6 word sentences for about a month straight a few weeks ago. lol

So, here goes . . .

*thinks*

“Finding answers beyond life’s given timeouts.”

Hmm, I’ll have to think on that and decide if I like it or not. lol

#2 I had a run-in with Auditory Processing Disorder yesterday; yet another reason why I think it’s likely that I have it. Andrea’s Buzzing has a really awesome post about it here.

So I’m answering the phones at my new job, right? And this lady gets on the phone and says something about needing to find something for this “lady who works at a shelter.”

Since we don’t have anything to do with people working in shelters, I said, “Excuse me. Could you repeat that?”

Luckily the second time I got it. What she was really saying was this: She was trying to get some information for a “new lady instructor.” Oy. *headdesk*

#3 And just for fun.

I’m 82%How Addicted to Blogging Are You? addicted to blogging.

Created by OnePlusYou

Oh Man, This Is Funny!

Okay, I swear this video looks like something out of an original Star Trek episode!!!

In addition, you should totally check out this link.

I like to think of it sort of as “The Modern Man Meets Joel Schumacher’s Version of Batman.”

May I Help You?

Setting: Psychiatrist’s waiting room.

[Enter a man and a woman. The woman moves across the room and talks to the receptionist about something. The man sits down.]

Man: So, you must be related to someone here.

Me: Excuse me?

Man: I was just wondering if you were related to someone here in the office.

Me: Why?

Man: Well you look perfectly normal.

Me: [With a smile.] People with Asperger’s Syndrome usually do.

[Man falls silent and looks away. Soon the woman finishes her conversation and they both leave. The man takes care not to look my direction for the rest of the time.]

Ah, the life of an aspie. Fun fun fun.

So, remember back when I talking about trying to find a job?

Well, I was looking over my posts for the last week or so and realized that I totally left out something big that has happened in my life.

I got a job!

Yay!

I’m working at the office of Human Resources on campus as the front desk clerk. It’s ironic really; before working at the gas station (Feb ‘07-Aug ‘07), the idea of answering phones and dealing with customers made me really nervous.

Now though. Ha! In my office, we house human resources, right? Well, that covers all sorts of things; most importantly though, that includes Payroll. What this means for me is that if anyone screws up along the way (usually the person trying to get paid, trust me), we get to be the recipient of a long angry tirade.

Yawn.

Seriously. I’m not afraid of people anymore. I saw the worst of the worst at the gas station. People here don’t even rank on my scale of worrisome patrons.

Now, to their credit, they most likely think that they do (or should), but really, they don’t. They’re still far too civilized for that. Not a one of them would ever think to try to grab my butt, cuss me out, spit on the floor, pick a fight with me, make suggestive comments about trying to hurt people around them, or ever make me feel like calling the cops.

Until they reach that level, I’m content just to smile and nod.  All in all, I find the technical side of the job–fill out this form, go through this process, answer this specific question about a b c–all very comforting and enjoyable.  There’s a process.  It’s doesn’t change.  There are specific situations with various rules, but once you learn the rules, that’s it.  Nothing new.  If this happens, then you do this. 

I don’t think I would want to do this for the rest of my life, but then again, that’s why I’m getting my master’s.  :) 

Take this average situation: 

Employee complaining about not getting paid: I have a kid who’s in the hospital and my sister just went through a divorce, and my mother just died and my car broke down, and I think I need foot surgery on top of the dental surgery I just had 3 years ago and . . . yeah.

Me: Did you turn in a hiring packet?

Employee: No one told me that I had to do that.

Me: Well, then you need to do the paperwork for that now. Here it is [hands a packet across the desk]. You also need some form of photo ID and your social security card.

Employee:  But no one told me I had to do that!

Me:  Yeah, (well), here’s the form and you can do it now.  [She says, smiling politely.]

Employee:  But, [They say while scrounging through either their pockets (if a man) or giant oversized purse (if a woman)] I have to get this in by 5 pm!  (It’s almost always 3:47 pm when they say that).

Me:  Okay?

Employee:  And I don’t have any ID on me!  I can’t find it!  [They wail.]

Me:  Okay . . . well, you can go ahead and fill out the form and then we can put it into our “pending” file.  Then, when you bring in your ID and social security card, we can make a copy of it and process your paperwork. 

Employee:  But it has to be in by 5 pm!!!

[It is now 3:52 pm]

Me:  And?

[Phone most always invariably rings at this point]

[I answer the phone]

Me [to the person on the other end]:  Human Resources; this is _________.  [Listens]  All right.  Uh-huh.  Well, I’m not actually the person who handles that.  Let me transfer you to _________.  Oh you’re welcome.  [Hangs up the phone and turns back to the increasingly hysterical person standing on the other side of the desk]

[It is now 3:58 pm]

Employee:  Can’t you just process it now?

Me:  Um no.  Sorry, we need to have some form of picture ID and your social security card. 

Employee:  Can I have it faxed?

Me:  Um no.  I have to see the original document before I can sign off on it.

Employee:  But it has to be in by 5 pm!

[4:02 pm]

Employee:  And besides!  I didn’t know that I had to fill out anything else! No one told me about it! 

Me:  The packet includes tax information, identity confirmation and payment designation.  We can’t pay you without that information.

Employee:  I want a check!

(Don’t we all . . )

Me:  I’m sorry, but you have to fill that out in the packet. 

[4:06 pm]

Employee:  Listen!  I really need the money!  [They say as they start to rattle off the original list again, adding on 3 or 4 things like "laundry money, dog vaccinations, tooth fairy money and their hard-up, out-of-work, alcoholic cousin/brother/aunt who is currently living with them."]

Me:  I’m sorry.  There’s nothing else I can do.  You can either fill out the form and I can put it in pending, or you can take the form with you and bring it back with your 2 forms of ID. 

Employee [pointing at me in indignance]:  Your office has been nothing but one big disappointment after another!!!  I came here 4 weeks ago and wasted my time filling out worthless forms for 25 minutes!!!  And now you’re telling me that I have to fill something else out!?!

Me [pulling out another form]:  Is this the form that you filled out then?

Employee [sniffing in disdain]:  You should know.  But yes, that is it.

Me:  This is the application packet.   Once you were hired, your department should have sent you back over here to fill out the “New Hire Packet.” 

Employee:  The secretary in my office is new–BUT–she has tried to help me as much as she could.  [They say, glaring at me.]  And she never told me about that!

Me:  I’m sorry that your experience here hasn’t been pleasant.  I just started working here actually; so I wasn’t even here 4 weeks ago. 

[4:14 pm]

Employee:  Well, what am I supposed to do then!?

(Didn’t I just answer that?)

Me:  Well, as I said before, either you can take the form with you, or you can do it now and I can put it in “pending” to wait until you have your ID. 

Employee:  But it has to be in by 5!

[4:17 pm]

Me:  I’m sorry.  There’s nothing that I can do for you other than the options I’ve already mentioned.

[4:19 pm]

Employee:  Well, I guess I’ll go then.  [Huffs]

*headdesk*

Reading

I have come to the conclusion, as a result of having spent many years in public schools, that one of the main reasons that kids of my generation don’t read is because they are only introduced to crappy books/literature by school teachers throughout their lives.

As a result, by the time you reach high school, the average reading level is probably somewhere around 5th or 6th grade (at least in most schools). Of course, if I’m remembering correctly, newspapers are written at a 4th grade reading level. Hmm.

I remember in my 11th grade Honors English class, we had kids in there who could barely sound out 2 syllable words- let alone try to understand “The Crucible.” Don’t even get me started on “The Great Gatsby.” Gag me with a stick. I mean, really. If I wanted to read about nothing, I’d read my textbook. *rolls eyes*

Of course, that was then and this is now. I actually read my textbooks now.

The other issue then was when we actually read something worthwhile, we’d take so much bloody time going about it that I’d read it and then get it done so early that I’d forget all the details and do shitty on the quizzes.

I’m in a stats class right now. Plus, since I got my undergrad in music education, I’ve had a number of edu classes. I know that teachers are supposed to teach to the bell curve–the mass in the middle and the outliers be damned. Well, I’m not that much of an outlier; not when you compare me with the brighter members of the world’s population. However, compared to those that I went to school with, I was a veritable genius — at least in some areas. No, see what made me a “nerd” wasn’t that I understood what was going on, but rather that I was interested in trying to understand what was going on.

BTW, for your information, I don’t classify myself as a nerd. I’m a geek. There is a difference.

The bell curve is the majority — also known as the “average.” I am very rarely average. Sometimes I am above average. Sometimes I am below average. But right in the middle? Not so much. It’s even harder when the average is sub-normal. *rolls eyes*

So what I thought I’d do here is to suggest some books that are good to read; not because they are “classics” (whatever the hell that means), but because they are easy to digest — at least initially. Going on with the digestive metaphor, the books that I’m suggesting here are listed because they have taste. I mean, who cares what rich people did back in the early 20th century? Who gives a damn about wolf pee? I really don’t give two shits about the Puritans, to tell you the truth. I know who they are. It’s been pounded into my head year after blessed year. I don’t want to have to read a novel about them; especially if it was written in their style of language!

Probably the best book we ever read was “The Grapes of Wrath,” and really, on the evolutionary scale, that only rates about 4.5 as far as interesting reads go when you’re a teenager/youth-type. And besides, we didn’t read it until the 11th grade, in my AP US History class. That’s a very narrow chasm of folks, you know.

Just because everyone else has to read that crap doesn’t mean that they should force every generation afterwards to read it too. That’s just like I was telling people on the comments board in relation to Alex Barton; just because you were treated like crap doesn’t mean that other people deserve the same treatment.

Okay now, in no particular order:

• “Way Past Cool.” It’s probably on some school’s banned list. Screw ‘em. Of course, what some people don’t know is that actual legit “classics” find their way onto banned book lists as well. *coughsToKillAMockingbirdcoughs*
• “Ender’s Shadow” - by Orson Scott Card - Bean is Ender’s Shadow. He is like the quintessential aspie. Read it and you’ll see what I mean.
• “The Power of One” - by Bryce Courtenay - one of my top 10 favorite books since I was was 16.
• “Whale Talk” - by Chris Crutcher (another banned author) - One of my top three rotating favorites.
• “Leaping to the Stars” - Book 3 in the series by David Gerrold
• “A Wizard Alone” - Book 6 in the “So You Want To Be A Wizard” series by Diane Duane. BTW, one of the main characters in this book has autism.
• “The Ear, The Eye, and The Arm” - by Nancy Farmer - a favorite since I was 11. I’ve actually had to repurchase this book, because the original fell apart.
• “It” by Stephen King. I used to not want to read Stephen King because he was a “popular” writer. Unlike some “popular” writers, however, he is actually original and innovative every time he writes something. Woah.
• “Orbital Resonance” by John Barnes
• “Mother of Storms” by John Barnes
• “My Teacher Flunked the Planet” by Bruce Coville.
• “The Night of the Twisters” - Ivy Ruckman
• “Maniac Magee” by Jerry Spinelli
• “The Swiftly Tilting Planet” - Madeline L’Engle
• “We All Fall Down” - Robert Cormier
• “Starship Troopers” - Robert Heinlein
• “Return to Camerein” by Rick Shelley

So I got a little lazy and stopped linking to their synopses.  Oops.  Oh well.

-

Social Tips for Aspies - From an Aspie

I am by no means an expert at social things. However, after 24 years of life on this planet, I have picked up a few skills here and there regarding social interaction. So here they are:

1. It helps tremendously if you can develop some kind of small grade obsession/interest in the life details of the people you interact with on a regular basis. That way, it’s easier to remember to ask what’s going on in their lives.
2. In conversations, only return to a topic one time, and twice if you absolutely can’t stand it, but no more than that.
3. Find things about people that you like and complement them on it. But stay away from the really strange remarks like, “Oh, I love the way your shoes match your nose hairs.” Not good. In fact, don’t mention hair at all–except that which is either on the face of men or on the top of the head for men and women.
4. If a thought passes through your head and you have time to think to yourself, “Should I say that?” Don’t. If you have to think about it, it’s probably a sign from beyond that it’s a bad idea.
5. Watch out for signs of boredom in a conversation. Easy ones to pick up include: constant checking of the watch, looking over their shoulder away from you, and answering everything you say in monosyllabic grunts that sound more or less like “Uh huh.”
6. Never talk on a subject as long as you want. Pick some major features and discuss those.
7. Pause in conversations and ask the other person their opinion.
8. Listen to their opinion. If they say something like, “please go on.” Then you can continue on. If they say something like, “That’s very interesting,” and then do something like look away from you, you should do one of two things: Ask them to talk about themselves or give them an escape — “I don’t want to keep you from what you need to be doing . . . “
9. If you’re looking at them, don’t stare incessantly and remember to blink. If you have problems with eye contact, look up occasionally, but do what I used to do - look at their nose. It’s really close to a person’s eyes. It’s hard to tell that you’re not looking at their eyes.
10. Pick at least one detail from the lives of every person that you interact with a lot and then make sure that you ask about that when you see them. This one’s a little tricky. It works best for people that you know really well, but don’t see every day.
11. If you’re hyperverbal like me, remember this: You don’t have to talk incessantly for people to remember that you’re there. Sometimes it’s really interesting to hear what people are talking about while just being quiet. And as silence goes, remember something else: Silence is not a bad thing. Sometimes it’s good just to take a moment and look around you and see what’s there.
12. Smile when you greet people. Especially if they’re nice to you usually.
13. Stand up straight, don’t slouch. If you cross your arms, that’s a defensive pose; instead try putting your arms behind your back. It’s a stance that promotes openness and a willingness to listen and communicate.
14. Practice empathy. As always, I quote my professor here on what empathy is. As she puts it, “Empathy is not defined as feeling the same as another (as she pointed out, that’s codependency), but rather the ability to hear what another is saying and to tell them that you heard.”
15. Ask people how they are and listen to what they have to say. If they say something like the babies kept them up all night and their boss chewed them out, think about what that means. Babies = screaming = annoyance and exhaustion. The phrase “chewed out” means that they got yelled at/criticized. Think about how you feel when someone does that you. Especially when you’re short on sleep. Then tell them what you think of that. A lot of people - NTs and aspies/auties alike often respond with, “Oh wow; that sucks.” This is an example of a LOUSY answer. As I said, think about what they said and think how you would feel if it were you. I’d probably answer something like, “Wow, and you didn’t kill him/her?” (Him/her refers to the boss that yelled at them). Or, “You must feel really cruddy. I’m sorry to hear that.” Or you could suggest something that they should try doing to feel better. “Maybe you should try and listen to some soft music and just veg for a bit. That always helps me.” Think about it and respond with genuineness. I hear enough fake politeness from the NTs around me on a daily basis. Don’t add to the shit pile.
16. If someone is obviously upset and you have NO IDEA WHAT TO SAY, try this. Offer to sit with them. It will be uncomfortable emotionally, but often this is how true friendships are born. This way they know that you’re concerned, but are unsure about what to do. Ask them if there’s anything you can do (and mean it when you ask this - unless they want you to murder someone . . . ). Stay away from the “I know how you must feel” motif. Bad idea. People who say that to me never know how I must feel. But you can use something like, “I’m really sorry you feel so bad. Sometimes I get really upset too and it sucks.” Emotional problems can’t just be fixed like objects. It’s like trying to disarm a nuclear war head with silly putty. Rather than have it explode in your face, just don’t mess with it.
17. If someone has a problem one day, ask about it the next. It’s strange how many people assume that problems just go away with a good night’s sleep. This is another good way to show that you were listening.
18. If you’re excessively shy, smile and nod. Don’t just retreat into the corner because you think that people don’t want you around. Usually shy people don’t get talked to because they won’t talk back–and it’s frustrating on the part of the other person to talk to someone who won’t respond. When you don’t respond, it gives the impression that you’re either not interested, you don’t care or you just don’t want anything to do with them. NOT GOOD.
19. If you talk about your special interest, try in some way to connect it to the previous conversation in some way. I’ll go with the stereotypical example here. If people are talking about the price of travel or something to do with travel, and you have an extreme interest in trains, then use that moment to talk about the fuel efficiency of trains or the ease of travel or something. If you want to talk about your special interest, wait for an opportune time and make connections!
20. Don’t drag out a conversation.  This is one that I have to fight for control over with myself.  If a person is up and walking off, don’t keep talking.  Just say bye/see you later and let them go.  This is one of the most potent ways to piss people off.  So don’t. 
21. To sum up this portion of our broadcast - here are a few things to remember: Make connections; listen and respond that you heard; offer to help; approach each situation with genuineness; take interest in the people around you (after all, how can you expect them to have interest in you unless you have interest in them?); and never talk as long as you want to. Always cut off before you think you have finished the discussion. If they say, “please go on,” do so. If the conversation changes, then don’t try to pull it back your way. Just go with the flow.

I know that many of these are hard to do in practice. I have problems with them all too. And as you might have realized, that whole thing about how empathy problems exist only on the spectrum is total bunk. There are plenty of NTs out there who don’t listen or give a damn about anything you’ve said.

And every time you encounter someone like that who goes off on an unending rant about subject X, think to yourself, “Do I really want to be like that???”

Conversation isn’t one-sided. It’s about balance between the two people. It’s like using the front crawl stroke in swimming. You go across the pool switching off between your face in the water and gulping air on the fly. Back and forth. Like in a circle.

Besides, if it wasn’t something maintained and built between 2 or more, then why not just talk to the wall? When you don’t let someone else talk, that’s how you are treating them - like a wall.

So remember to breathe.

Alex Barton - I Haven’t Forgotten You

And nor are you the only one. Unfortunately.

Here’s an interesting thread on an education-focused board. Same sorts of responses . . . just sometimes better thought out.

The following are some links to some letters (and a few editorials) to the editor about the Alex Barton. Just for simplicity’s sake, I’m sticking to the original site that aired the first story for these letters (TCPalm).

Autistic Student: No Excuses

Editorial: Learn From Autism Situation - I like this one because it actually takes the time to offer solutions and evidence to its thought process.

Letters: Autistic Student: Questions - This person raises some of the more pertinent questions in this situation.

Kate Riley (a guest columnist from the Seattle Times): Teacher’s Behavior ‘Primer for Bullies in Training’ - Excellent.

Letter: Autistic Student: Remove Teacher - oh look, sanity from NC.

Letter: Autistic Student: Inexcusable Action - This could have been written by me, except for the age difference.

Anthony Westbury: It was stressful day at PSL’s Morningside Elementary - This is a call for compassion for the parties involved.

Letter: Teacher ought to be voted off

Letter: Accountability lacking at school

Letter: Autistic student: reassignment

Michael Goforth: In St. Lucie schools, hits keep coming - Very thought provoking.

Letter: Autistic student: missed opportunity - here’s experience looking you in the face.

Letter: Autistic student: immaturity

Letter: State Attorney’s Office should do more

Letter: Young people deserve respect - I commented on this one actually. I’ve reposted the response below. For it to really make sense though, I would suggest going and reading the previous comments. I don’t know if anyone will listen, but it was worth a shot. BTW, I drew heavily from one of my previous posts for this response, just in regards to some of the stats. So if it looks familiar, that’s why.

Are you people listening to yourselves??? “No one deserves respect”?

How can anyone earn respect when they’re not shown how!?

With that attitude, is it any wonder that school shootings in the US have skyrocketed in the past 3 years?

In 2008 alone, there have already been TWENTY school shootings thus far. In the past 2 and a half years (2008 included), there have been 54 shootings. Let me put that into perspective, in the 9 years before that, there were only 42.

That’s not just all bad parenting. Admittedly, there are a lot of folks out there who shouldn’t be allowed to parent a pet rock.

But that’s not the issue at hand. The issue at hand is you folks think it’s the natural order of things to treat other people like sh!t. So is it any wonder when they start to treat you back the same way???

Respect goes both ways. You teach a kid to respect other people by teaching him to respect himself. Not the other way around.

You all don’t have any sense about you of how to nurture a society. Telling kids that you don’t give a crap about them from the beginning is a surefire way of creating mutiny later on down the line.

And you say, it’s just one kid. Yeah, well, here’s another tidbit: 3.2 million kids are victims of bullying. Want some more perspective? That’s nearly the same size of LA. That’s more than the population of Chicago.

99% of kids on the Autism spectrum are victims of bullying. Did you know that the majority of kids with Asperger’s Syndrome (the high-functioning form of autism that Alex has been diagnosed with) have normal or above average intelligence?

So think about that. You’re alienating some of the brightest, most original thinking kids from this society from the beginning.

And you’re surprised that America is the laughingstock of the entire world?

Letter: Students taught how to bully

Anthony Westbury: Teacher flap is surprise - Same guy that I linked to earlier in this post (only this is an earlier write-up, obviously missing some of the facts). I do find it admirable that he was withholding judgment this early in the game, even though he knows Portillo. Most people, as you no doubt have noticed have picked either one of two positions: Fer her or against her.

I’m of two minds on the issue, to tell you the truth. As you no doubt might have realized from my earlier posts, I think what Ms. Portillo has done is an reprehensible act against a child much too young to be experiencing such behaviors from the adults around him. While I believe what I say, I also know that this sort of thing happens far too often as a general rule.

I remember my own first grade teacher. Mrs. Letta. Woodrow Wilson Elementary School, in Norman, OK. Suffice it to say, we didn’t speak the same language. I continuously carried home “U’s” for Unsatisfactory behavior marks on my report card the entire year. I wasn’t purposely trying to annoy her. For me, I just didn’t understand the concept of first grade. Spelling test? You want me to do what?

Then again, you take my oldest brother. He couldn’t make it through the day when he was 6 without a nap still.

So we were immature. So what? We were 6. Wendy Portillo is most assuredly not.  In addition, according to one of the official documents regarding this incident, Ms. Portillo was reported to have said the following words:

“I hate you right now. I don’t like you today.”

I don’t give a damn whether or not you’re at the end of your rope or not, you do not say those words to a child–much less a student!

I speak with some authority on this subject; partially from being that student and partially from my experience with student teaching.  In fact, it was through my experience student teaching that I decided to go the music therapy route.  I found myself more interested in the kids that weren’t doing as well in class–the ones who needed extra help and more creative solutions to keep them focused–as opposed to the ones that were getting along fine.

My very own cooperating teacher said these words to me about some of the kids in the 6th grade band who weren’t up to “par,” so to speak.  She told me that they wouldn’t make it in band the next year; so to save them and herself the trouble, she just would deny them entry into the 7th grade band.

WTF?  It’s my personal opinion that kids like that need music more than the ones doing the best.  I could understand if they had lousy sounds and whatnot, but several of the kids she was talking about could play.  This one kid, he had multiple diagnoses (with a score of other problems), and was most likely undiagnosed as to being on the spectrum . . . on the other hand, he could play near-perfect renditions of Zelda theme songs on his trumpet, and had one of the finest fluttertongues I’ve ever been witness to.

I’ve been playing for about 12 years now (going on 13), and I can’t fluttertongue (an advanced technique done with wind instruments where the player plays while making that sound you get when you roll your r’s in your mouth) like that.

But I digress.

At the same time, there were some really really annoying kids in band (6th-8th); some that left me swearing under my breath in response to (but I always swore in German).  And in the general ed classes, it’s worse.  Special education is still somewhat a new concept, and while most–if not all–schools have some version of the program in their system, the standards are not set in stone across the board.  Underfunding has a large part to do with this, no doubt.

But if I were a teacher who had a kid who was driving me bug nuts and I found out that he or she might possibly have some kind of disorder, I’d find a library and start researching what I could do to help them.

Generally speaking, I got on well with the kids who were more difficult to work with behavior-wise and emotionally speaking.  It seems that they responded well to my attitude towards them.  I think that they could tell that when I looked at them, I didn’t see just a label or a diagnosis.

Simply put, I treated them like humans.

Apparently, some people don’t understand that humanity doesn’t just start at 18.

I’m Not Afraid

“You like being stupid?”

“No sir. I didn’t say that.” I said stiffly, staring at him intently.

“Then say what you mean or keep your mouth shut.”

“I — I just meant that I like being spontaneous.”

He just keeps staring.

“I guess, I guess what I mean is that like to be — I mean, I like not being, I guess, um, w — w — well,” I rub my hand over my face, looking away for the first time, searching for a way out.

“Spit it out,” he growls at me.

“Um, non-sequiturs.” I blurt out. I shove my shaking hands in my pockets and glance back up at him, before looking away again. The floor. The wall. Something.

“Explain,” he grunts.

I run a hand through my hair, a nervous habit that I picked up somewhere I can’t begin to remember. Especially not then.

“Ah, da– , I — I — I,” my mouth opens and closes a few times soundlessly, “I, I mean, what seems like n - n - non, non-sequiturs to - to most p - p - people are are ac - actually just just a - a - a train — well, I mean, a continued tr - tr - train of thoughts to me.”

“And?”

“I - I like, well, I don’t like con - confusing people so - so - so much, but - but - but rather I - I like sh - sh - showing them that I’m st - still listening. You know, just - just to let - let people know that I haven’t zoned out.” I breathe, thinking to myself that this is not at all what I was trying to say, but at this point, I’d rather be anywhere else, in any other conversation.

“So you blurt out random crap just to let people know that you’re still in the conversation?”

“I don’t - I don’t - I don’t,” I say helplessly, shaking my head back and forth repeatedly in a “no” gesture.

“Well, whatever your reasons are, I don’t want to hear it while we’re on the field. You get me?”

“Oo, yes sir. But that’s what I’m trying to tell you sir; I’m not - not trying to, to piss you off.”

“I don’t have time for this. Either spit it out or get out of my face. Get it?”

I close my eyes, running my hand over the top of my head again, rubbing the other hand over my mouth like Jack in The Shining keeps doing (that’s probably where I picked that up). I grit my teeth and shut my eyes, and then I open them and stare right at him.

“I’m not trying to piss you off on purpose. It’s just that sometimes I can’t say what I mean right when you ask. Or else, I say what I mean, but not in a way that makes sense to anyone else. I’m n - not st - stupid. Sir. I - I just can’t translate right s - sometimes.” I say and force myself to keep my hands out of my pockets, still at the ends of my straightened arms.

“Okay.” He says, as if this was the easiest conversation in the world. “Then just nod or shake your head when I ask a question. Understand me?”

“Ah, yessir.”

“Don’t say anything else. Just shake or nod. Understand?”

“Ah–.” I nod. I do understand. A lot more than he ever will.

I’m not afraid, even though he terrifies me.

Culture of Exclusion

I walk down corridors filled with hate-filled glances, their eyes dripping contempt for all that they deem in their minds as lesser beings. Of the hordes of moving bodies, of young adolescents, I am the least of all beings. I am nothing, except when they choose to see me. It seems that I exist in a world of extremes: I am either nothing or I am something; I am either unseen or my presence is offensive. There is no middle ground.

There are no Hispanic students at my school. There is black and there is white, and one lone Japanese exchange student. 49% black and 51% white. You either are or you aren’t. I am most undoubtedly not, but technically I am. No cultural groups will claim me. My mother doesn’t have to worry about me falling in with the wrong crowd. There is no crowd that will allow me to breathe the same air as them, let alone be a part of them.

I walk down the hallways with all my senses tuned in different directions, like a radio searching for a signal. I am a paradox. In a setting of this or that, I am neither here nor there. Yet, I am in a constant hunt for everything. I have no teachers, but everyone teaches me something. I learn on my own.

I follow the rules; I follow the guidelines; I listen to the threats of the teachers seriously. I do what they ask, and still, I am no one. My English teacher takes great sadistic delight in refusing me permission to the bathroom. She wants to see me cry. I used to, but I don’t anymore. Her treatment of me continues to be the same, whether I follow her rules or not. I have learned the concepts of betrayal and deception from her. I wasn’t aware of those concepts until I met her. I still don’t talk in her class, but only because I have no one to talk to; not because I am overly concerned with her rules of silence.

My math teacher enjoys tormenting me; making light of my confusion for her subject. Technically, she is a teacher of math, but she is of the opinion that there is only one way that ideas work in relationship to one another. It is apparent that she has never had to think. She represents the epitome of my school’s train of thought. She believes there to only be one right way to life, which in her case, is math. My own experience has taught me that this belief is false. It seems ironic to me that she has sought to teach me rational thought through the means of irrationality.

No smiles greet me as I make my way from class to class. With my wide-open senses, I step sideways as someone aims a kick at the backs of my knees. I hear their muffled curse I continue to walk away from them, pretending as though it were just an accident that I managed to escape injury. I see groups of girls eye me as I pass, whispering and laughing; sometimes they also point, as though they think I am unaware of the obviousness of their behaviors.

After spending much time in these unending hallways, I know all the games; I know all the rules. It is here, in this place of life or death, in this place of survival, that I am a near master. That’s not something you can put on your resume. Employers don’t want to know that you survived public school. This does not impress them.

That is because the majority of them are either this or that. They work in a world of systems that work for reasons unknown to me.

No one tries to teach me. I learn on my own. I gather the lessons by myself, like one solitary farmer picking up produce day after unending day.

And so, I have tried to learn why I am the butt of all jokes and subject of all finger pointing. I look at myself. I have two arms, two legs, and a torso. I have a head with all the important features.

Sometimes they laugh because I don’t know anything about popular media. By that reasoning, I should laugh at them. They don’t know who Saddam Hussein is. How am I any worse than them?

They laugh at me because of the way that I walk. I walk on two feet; one foot follows the other. How is that strange?

They laugh at me for my accent. They laugh at me for my choice of words during conversations. There are no rules about vocabulary in school, except in regards to cussing. How is it that I seem to be constantly messing up then?

They have been taught, I was not. I am my own teacher.

I am at odds with their isms. I fit no stereotypes. I am my own person.

They have been taught to put people into groups by various characteristics. They see other people according to what group they are in. I see individuals standing in clumps together. Other people talk about “those people.” I don’t understand. Who are they? The rules for “those people” constantly change, and I don’t understand. I can’t see what other people see.

I seek to learn about how people classify themselves. However, I have learned that many people just stand by and allow themselves to be classified. They try to do that with me, but it doesn’t seem to take. They call me a multitude of things: freak, weirdo, geek, loser. I am me. I don’t understand why I can’t just be me.

I learn one thing at a time. I learn about one individual at a time. Most of them shun me, but not all. An old man on the street looks at me and I can tell that he sees me. He tells me to be careful, and I nod to him that I understand. A child sits alone. I walk over and sit down next to her. She takes my hand and smiles at me. I smile back and she does not laugh at me.

I have learned many things from the world, save one. People hate me; I don’t hate them. Life is made up of actions and reactions. They deny me through their hate. I am open to all things.

As I have gotten older, I have become less alone. I accept all people. It is purely up to them whether or not they will return the feeling. Before, I was met with criticism from all sides. Unlike those around me, I turn my back on no one. Now, a society of outcasts has begun to form. Within our ranks, people from all nationalities and cultural groups preside. Through forced isolation we reached out and found others like us. We look at what a person does and what they say–not how they say it.

We finally have a culture. Our culture is humanity.

Look! I Glow!

(This is a picture of me and some other music therapy students at the annual music therapy party. I’m wearing a vest with reflective patches that was made to glow when the camera flashed.)

Music folks like to eat. What can I say?

Besides–I glow!

I don’t always wear my vest out, but that was right during exams, and I was stressed out.

Okay, you want weird? Below is a pic of me in close up, taken by a friend not 2 feet from me. That’s why I’m leaning back like a maniac.

Not Making Connections

This whole Alex Barton thing really has gotten me thinking.

As most of you have probably noticed, there is a big divide in the two sides of opinion regarding this situation. On one hand, people are outraged; on the other side, people are pulling for the teacher, saying that he’s just undisciplined and that Melissa Barton must therefore be a bad parent.

Plus, you get fun comments like these thrown into the mix:

I’m more worried about kids growing up in war zones and/or surrounded by disease and/or starvation and/or crushing poverty and/or drug abuse and/or sexual exploitation and/or I could go on. I agree it’s bad, but its not THAT bad. It’s not “get the cops involved oh-the-humanity” bad.

See, this is where people aren’t making connections. How can you say you’re against one thing and not the other? I understand that the scale is different between the two categories, but really, the underlying issues are the same.

Okay, look at the similarities between what this person pointed out and what happened in the Alex Barton case:

1. Intolerance
2. Lack of respect for another’s basic humanity
3. Hatred
4. Exclusion
5. Ignorance
6. Marginalization by a larger group

What people don’t seem to realize is that you can’t just treat everyone the same. The other issue here is that people apparently don’t understand how to create a supportive society.

In other words, the reason that society is going to hell in a hand basket is because we don’t support our own.

Alex Barton may just be one kid, but I can personally vouch that he represents more than just one case of abuse by a teacher to a student–spectrum related or not.

Problems early on a in child’s development can lead to bad situations later on. For starters, it’s been shown that people who experience high rates of bullying as children often exhibit signs of depression later on in their lives (if not earlier). In addition, the rates of suicides and violence increase more for those who have been treated with hatred and disdain by others (duh?).

Our society isn’t a cohesive unit. Well, what do you expect to happen when you exclude a person from the community around them? Why would they want to support something that has never supported them?

Social contract - The agreement with which a person enters into civil society. The contract essentially binds people into a community that exists for mutual preservation. In entering into civil society, people sacrifice the physical freedom of being able to do whatever they please, but they gain the civil freedom of being able to think and act rationally and morally. Rousseau believes that only by entering into the social contract can we become fully human.

Did you read that? Mutual preservation. The way I interpret this makes it seem as though the relationship between people is just as important as the relationship between the government and the people.

Now, children aren’t citizens–not in the full sense of the term–but rather, they are more like citizens in training. So you can’t expect a 5 year old with the social consciousness of a 3 year old to behave rationally. But you can expect that a teacher would do so.

What Ms. Portillo has done then, along with scores of other teachers and adults, is to start this child on a long journey of disenchantment with the organizations around him. I mean, look who has already failed him: His teacher, the school administration, the police . . .

How can you put your faith in something that doesn’t have any faith in you?

So maybe you’re saying, so what? It’s just a few kids here and there. Who cares about a few kids. The article that I linked to earlier mentioned that approximately 3.2 million children are victims of bullying. Let that sink in a bit: 3.2 million.

Okay, so the population of the US is 303,824,646. Now let me put that in a bit of perspective. There are approximately 950,000 people infected with HIV. Did you know that as of the 2000 census, there were approximately 49.7 million disabled people living in the US? Meanwhile, there are only 13.1 million people of Asian descent living here. African-Americans? 37.1 million. Yes, I am aware that there is overlap between ethnic groups and those with disabilities. Still.

Here’s another way of thinking of that 3.2 million that I mentioned earlier. I found a better comparison. The number of children bullied every year is nearly the same size of the population of Los Angeles. This number is larger than the population of Chicago.

Did you know that researchers believe 99% of children who are on the spectrum are bullied?

I have a poll on Wrong Planet that reads:

On a level from 1-10 (1 least, 10 worst), what’s the worst level of bullying that you’ve experienced?

1 2% [ 5 ] 2 3% [ 9 ] 3 3% [ 9 ] 4 4% [ 11 ] 5 9% [ 22 ] 6 7% [ 17 ] 7 11% [ 27 ] 8 18% [ 41 ] 9 8% [ 19 ] 10 27% [ 63 ] Never been bullied 1% [ 3 ]

Total Votes : 226

(Sorry that the graph is a bit skewed - but I think you can still get the idea).

Total Votes : 226

Here are the results so far. Seems like the experts know what they’re talking about. I mean, look at that. 64% of those that replied listed the level at 7 or above. You should join WP just to read some of their stories.

So what’s society doing? It’s excluding some its brightest citizens from being part of the focus of the country. Sure, a lot of people move on in their lives, but I doubt that any one ever really forgets.

When you don’t raise a cohesive society from the beginning of children’s lives, then is it any wonder that we have the problems that we have today? If people can’t learn to have compassion for others’ humanity, then it’s just a matter of time before something bigger breaks.

Why do you think that regular American citizens are turning into homegrown terrorists? Why do you suppose that kids are bringing guns into schools? Because they have to do something to make a difference and no one else gives a damn.

There have been 20 different school shootings in 2008 alone. Might I mention that it’s not even June? The rate for this year is undoubtedly going to be higher than 2007, since for the total year there were only 23 shootings (and we’re already at 20?). See?

• 20 in 2008 as of May
• 23 in 2007
• 11 in 2006
• 3 in 2005
• 5 in 2004
• 7 in 2003
• 3 in 2002
• 7 in 2001
• 5 in 2000
• 5 in 1999
• 4 in 1998
• 3 in 1997

The world is a diverse place. Unless we can convince people that violence is not the answer (that goes for you all advocating that Alex just needs to have the shit beat out of him by his “bad” mother), then these numbers will continue to advance. You have to go through metal detectors to get into most schools nowadays. Police officers roam the halls.

That’s not even the answer. At this point, society is merely treating the symptoms. You treat people like shit for long enough, eventually there’s going to be a reaction. And if all they’ve ever experienced is violence, then it’s likely that they are going to respond likewise.

Teachers are not the only role models. Everyone’s a role model for behavior. We don’t have to agree, but we need to have respect for the other person’s right to that opinion. If we can somehow learn to be a society and work together, instead of against one another, we can start to solve some of the world’s problems.

Makes sense to me. *shrugs*

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BTW, I just want to say howdy to all the new folks visiting the blog.  Generally speaking, I get an average of between 150 and 250 hits per day.  However, I’ve gotten 1400+ in the past 3 days.  Woah.  So thanks for dropping by.  And if you ever want to know something Asperger’s related, feel free to drop me a line.