Weighs and Means

As an educator Autism was described as this extreme, unreachable thing…grueling and heinous. I’ve had friends working with the population of extremes that cemented my belief system, even though I’ve encountered variations. The Autistic adolescents in my classrooms and schools have had complex profiles, the Autism piece fading into the background in some respects as other mental health issues and aggression became more worrisome. I suppose it’s all linked, but we were never in the game of “fixing” their Autism. Looking back, I’m glad I stumbled onto that small piece of an appropriate belief system.

Aspberger’s no longer formally exists, replaced by the umbrella of “spectrum.” I’m not opposed to this change…maybe? I don’t really get Autism still, though following disability Twitter with the throngs of testimonials has my immeasurable depths of gratitude. It truly is a spectrum, though I suspect the people charged with describing it don’t comprehend the term as they should.

Mr. Man is a marvelously unique gent. I’ve never worked with these little ones, so it’s hard for me to understand what’s part of a dominant neuro pattern, and what diverges. But, I always knew Little Man was different, and I almost tear up thinking of his wonderful ways that sets him apart from so many others.

At some point last year I began wondering if my son fit somewhere on the spectrum. I’ve never been sure if he would meet the criteria for a formal diagnosis, but certainly some of his behaviors had an Autistic feel to them. As he’s aged, even in such a relatively short span, the behaviors more pronounced. Doubt seeping away watching his individuality draw its distinct lines. But, I’ve been the only one in his life who believed Autism is a part of him…nothing new. My own neurodivergence yields that I see the world differently; I’m used to doubt, but within my wheelhouse of assessment of people and situations, I’m seldom wrong. My little man is no exception.

My son’s evaluation concluded some months ago, and it was a very gratifying experience. He’s young, and his presentation borderline for a diagnosis, so we will have him reassessed in the fall. But, no other diagnoses applied. As I listened to the results of his assessment, and the recommendations the psychologist listed, it occurred to me that Little Man’s borderline levels of Autism are because I’ve been busting my ass to intervene in the areas he struggles. For example, my son is not so great a reading facial expressions, and initially he couldn’t whatsoever. I’ve been working with him for years now in understanding social cues and reading expressions. He’s still odd in some respects, but because he has the capacity to do unexpected things, the assessment did not register an area of need. That said, he’s clinically significant in four areas with a moderate level in two more. As his world becomes more socially complex, I’m guessing his Autistic profile will evolve even more.

When we attended his yearly physical, I think his very skilled and knowledgeable doctor was hovering in the neighborhood of my son existing as a different and interesting kind of kid that no label would accurately describe. But, as the appointment unfolded his doctor saw some telltale Autistic behaviors, and I watched as he sat back and smiled. I could read on his face that Little Man is simply a delightfully interesting kid who happens to have skills most people don’t associate with Autism…unless one reads commentary among the Autistic community on forums like Twitter.

The last several months have been a whirl of stakeholders and the cacophony of life…my son becoming more rigid, but also better at interacting with his peers. It’s been an expansive behavioral give and take, but all within the scope of what I would expect Autism to be.

My husband initially uneasy with the label and its implications; I outlined a context of difference I don’t think he realized. I’ve been progressively more out there with my disability, at least in the flesh and blood of my life. Disability is a balance of stigma and strength, and I’ve learned there is power in embracing difference…taking pride in the attributes disability provides. I explained neurodivergence in terms of my own skills and achievements, and framed other more meaningful examples for him as well. We never discussed it, but I feel the impact of my words. My husband no longer takes issue with Little Man’s diagnosis or the behavior criteria it entails. Our son is simply marvelous for who he is…most of the time.

But, it’s been difficult to catch a glimpse of the future harassment from peers he might experience for his oddities. It’s reassuring to watch his strength and good humor about it, even if some of it is accidental. It’s been hard to see myself and aspects of my life in him, though so far we don’t share a diagnosis. As proud and content I am with myself and my path, I’ve cried privately on several occasions considering the prospect that more of me develops in him. I have no choice, but to stumble along that bridge in the event it manifests at some point.

But, for now I consider how we measure a person’s brilliance, and while I never had too much faith in cognitive measures, witnessing Little Man’s growth I very personally appreciate the deficits in how we as a society understand such things. Until now my focus as been on the inability for such intelligence indications to measure future success. But, sometimes Little Man startles me with something in his brilliance that can’t really be collected in a meaningful way. It’s almost always something pretty cool, and the coolest aspects to who Little Man fundamentally is I can wholeheartedly attribute to his Autism.