A post in today's Autisable post so clearly illustrated an important point that I just had to mention it here. The post is titled "Yes, a Cure for Autism Would Be Nice," and its content and tone suggest that it was written by a teenaged sibling of a brother with low-functioning autism.
The writer describes a very difficult and painful home situation, and concludes:
It's not okay that my brother cant tell us his wants and needs. It's not okay that sometimes, he cries and when we ask him what's wrong, he doesn't have the ability to communicate with us. It's heartbreaking for all of us to see someone so important to us to be deprived of so much. It's not a crime for us to want more for him.
At the beginning, the author makes the statement "I know that there are high functioning and extremely intelligent autistic individuals out there that love themselves and wouldn't want to change things...". At the very end, as a tag line, the author writes: "Note: This is NOT a post about high functioning individuals with autism."
The writer, in my opinion, does an excellent job of clarifying the incredible chasms we face when we write or talk about "autism." Indeed, there are people on the spectrum (and parents) who wouldn't change a thing. And there are also people, like the writer's brother, who are literally unable to communicate or care for him/herself.
What this writer was able to do - which many either can't or won't - is clearly define the distinctions, and carefully explain that she/he is referring ONLY to a particular group of individuals on the autism spectrum.
If we can draw a lesson from this post (and I think we can), it's that people with autism and their families are very different from one another - and that's ok. For some autism really is a difference. For others it's a disability. And for still others it's a tragedy. When we're willing to explain our situations and our perspectives, no one need feel defensive or angry: rather, we can read the words of a sibling whose experience may or may not resonate with us, and respond from the heart.
Thanks for linking to this article — it’s a really good one!
And there are also people, like the writer’s brother, who are literally unable to communicate or care for him/herself.
One doesn’t need language to communicate. My dog communicates. So does my cat.
Indeed, I can think of a number of ex-clients (whether NHS or previous charity employer service-users) who lack verbal communication, yet are clearly receptively and expressively communicative, albeit rather one sided and needs-based.
I would suggest that we should assume that the authour is also excluding non-verbal communication, if only to reduce the risk of certain ‘advocates’ turning this discussion round to how much they dislike ‘people’ ‘denying’ ‘autism reality’.
ANB says:
“I realize this is just a blog, so accuracy is not as important as page hits, but one doesn’t need language to communicate. My dog communicates. So does my cat.”
Something is wrong with anyone who would make a comment as offensive as that and not even understand how offensive it is to a parent of an autistic child with limited communication skills.
Suggesting that communication on the level of a cat or a dog is OK for low functioning, severely autistic children is disgusting.
I have a son with limited communication skills and I have visited institutions where some autistic adults with limited communication skills live out their lives.
I am seriously disappointed in this forum for hosting this type of offensive nonsense.
Harold, I agree. I am ending comments now.
Lisa