“Hi! I’m Jack. I have autism.”
A sentence I wasn’t sure I was ready to hear. Yet, so pleased to see it exclaimed loudly and proudly.
Two weeks ago my husband David and I told Jack he has autism for the very first time. We’ve never hidden anything from him, we just wanted to wait until we were certain he’d be able to understand the gravity of it all to address it directly.
We discussed it for months in advance, tried to plan out what we wanted to say. And what we didn’t want to say. We decided to wait until the summer, so he would have time to adjust to his new reality unfettered by school stresses. We looked at books, we asked what others had told their children.
Summer came and we still waited. For the right time, the right place, the right… whatever. We finally decided to take him out to lunch alone, where we could have a conversation without his brothers drawing focus. It would be perfect.
And we all know the best laid plans always go according to, well, plan.
The days passed and still no discussion, no lunch date. Then one day we were all sitting around the kitchen table doing arts and crafts and what-have-you. I looked at David, he looked at me and shrugged. It just seemed like a good time.
“Jack, do you know what autism is?”
He wasn’t sure, so we expanded on some things he already knew: people have different likes and dislikes, people don’t all look the same, people think differently.
That’s been a recurring theme in our family for years. Whenever one of the children asks why someone is a certain way, or why somebody likes something they don’t, or any time something is not the same as what they know, we say it.
“People’s lives are different.”
We knew someday Jack (or his brothers) would realize that he’s not like most of the other kids, and we wanted him to know that different is not wrong. It’s not strange. It’s not weird or funny or less than. Different is just different.
We described the spectrum, and how all people who have autism fit somewhere on it, but are not the same. That even within the autism community there are differences, and that’s OK.
We told him that autism is why sometimes sounds are too loud and lights are too bright and the Titan AE theme song drives him nuts (although to be fair, it’s really annoying). Autism is why he has a helper at school, and why he needs to run around in the halls periodically. It’s why he takes melatonin to sleep at night.
It’s also why he wants to know everything about every subject that interests him, and wants to share it all with anyone within earshot. It’s not why he’s curious, but it’s probably why he’s curiouser.
So when we said the words “you have autism” to Jack, and explained what we meant, he wasn’t upset. He wasn’t scared or troubled in any way. He was quite the opposite.
I’m pretty certain Jack believes he has some sort of super powers.
Which, of course, he does. Duh.
So, without further ado, Jack’s thoughts on autism.
On the concept of a spectrum, and where he falls on it (we told him he started in the middle, and now he’s toward the high-functioning end):
“It’s hard to read if you’re in the middle of the spectrum. You just have to show your parents the words.”
“If you’re way past schedule on learning, nothing will stop you from learning again and again and again to get to the other end of the spectrum.”
Jack does understand that not everyone can move from one end to the other, although his main concern about those individuals is that they may not be able to have sex properly to have children. He’s quite interested in the mechanics of having babies at the moment.
I’m certain he’ll have more to say on the non-sex aspect at a later date.
On the fact that he was born prematurely, and how that may have contributed to his autism (his correlation, not ours):
“If you’re early (premature) you have a lot more time to learn. If you’re past schedule (post-dates, like his brothers), you don’t have as much time to learn.”
So, according to Jack, he’s got one up on his brothers because he was born six weeks premature.
On early intervention (he started services when he was 23 months old), and the important role parents have in the therapy process:
“You (parents) helped me learn. You also brought someone else over to help teach me to learn.”
“It’s all because of my parents that other people came and taught me. So parents do help out with learning, not just school and other classes. Mostly parents. But mostly school.”
Um, thanks?
“And you learn mostly everything at university.”
OK then.
Some random thoughts on autism:
“I couldn’t walk when I was born, and it’s because of the spectrum.”
Hm, probably not the case.
“I know how to read, so I’m really good at autism.”
I guess so?
We finished up by asking him how he felt now that he knows about autism. Turns out, he thinks it’s pretty cool.
“I think that having autism is great. Of course, what do you know?”
Not much, apparently.
“Do you like autism a lot?”
Yes, yes I do, in fact.
“Well, thank you!”
You’re quite welcome, little man, it’s been my pleasure.
When his aunt and cousins came over later in the day, he ran up to them and gleefully exclaimed, “guess what?!? I have autism!”
Let the celebrations begin.
And, as is his wont, Jack summed up autism in the most eloquent way possible. From the mouths of babes and all, words of wisdom:
“I think it (autism) helps me want to do lots of things. It’s great for the mind, because it can help you do lots of things.”
And finally:
“Some people (with autism) can’t talk – it’s not about your voice, it’s about your mind.”
I couldn’t have said it better myself.
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Next up in this series – what Jack’s brothers have to say about autism.
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