The Autistic Me

Academic departments in the humanities rarely understand the social impairments of autism. These departments are, by their nature, social places — quite unlike some departments in the STEM disciplines. I’ve blogged repeatedly that STEM fields tolerate introversion and even social awkwardness, but not the humanities. This claim is based not only on my experiences, but on dozens of interviews with graduate students and terminal degree holders. The autistic students and professors with whom I’ve discussed this problem point to the underlying philosophies and pedagogies of the humanities. Group work and discussion are the norm, which might be good unless you struggle with group dynamics or conversation cues. If you pause to interpret speech, speak too quickly or too slowly, if your tone remains flat or sing-song, then you don’t fit into the “style” of the discipline. Autism features an impairment of social skills and interpersonal connections. Any academic skills the autistic might have...

Some books and noted speakers make the case that academia is one of the better career paths for autistic adults capable of completing the required education. I'm unconvinced this is good advice for anyone, much less autistic individuals. Let me begin with the academic job market. Even within STEM fields, which have lower unemployment and better prospects in general, the academic job market is lousy. Data show too many post-doctoral workers and too many professors in these fields, while demand is high in private industry. Because industry now engages in research, especially in fields with perceived imminent returns such as automation, it might be wise to pursue private industry positions. Cuts to science funding at the state and federal levels also make the sciences a difficult market within academia. University posts exist only when research funding is secure and plentiful. When there are too few funding sources, universities and colleges quickly shift the teaching of undergra...

Life is okay, if more than a little hectic at the end of this first month. With one month down, I'm 11 months away from my MFA in Film and Digital Technology. Though things might happen and things do go wrong, so far I'm on schedule and things are going well —— though I'm exhausted and working harder than I did for any other degree. Because the MFA requires projects every week, this isn't as easy to schedule as writing. Even researching a paper can be done from the comfort of home, at any hour. You cannot make movies by yourself, at any time of day. It doesn't work that way. Filming takes time, and often requires a team of people. It's not comparable to working alone on a degree in writing or rhetoric. The team-based nature of film is exhausting for me, but I enjoy the results. I also like the practical nature of the skills being taught. You either learn how to adjust ISO, f/Stop, shutter speed, and other variables or you don't. You can have theorie...

This fall was a respite of sorts from academia while I concentrated on writing and considered my path ahead. For the last few months, I've been working on a mix of screen and stage projects, while also collaborating on some creative writing projects. As December ends, I'm returning to both academia and corporate life, which will reduce my creative output significantly for at least 2016. I'll be completing my MFA (master of fine arts), something I started before my doctoral studies. If I complete the program, I'll have an MFA in Film and Digital Technologies, which will complement my interest in screenwriting and "transmedia" theatrical productions. At the same time, I'll be doing some corporate consulting to pay for classes and some home renovation projects. My consulting work will be as an ADA compliance expert for Web, application, and new media content. This work aligns wonderfully with my doctoral research and my dissertation. Working on projects...

School must  be better today than in the 1970s or 80s, right? Especially since we know so much about autism. Probably. Maybe. Or it is bad in different ways. As students, teachers, support staff, administrators, and others head back to campuses across the United States, I anticipate the annual questions about what to expect. Unfortunately, there are no good or easy answers that apply to everyone. Be sure you know what your rights and your student's rights are, and are not. They vary by age, type of school, and state. Remember that federal regulations are only minimums, and states can have stricter requirements for providing supports to students with special needs. Learn what you can about the alphabet soup of legislative requirements and federal programs. IDEA, ADA, IEP, OSEP, OVR, and so on. Work with  teachers and administrators, not against them. Start by asking how to help them help you and your student. What documentation does the school need? What is or isn...

In response to several queries from friends, a bit more elaboration on my plans. I applied for a number of teaching posts and have now received the standard letters proclaiming an "overwhelming number of highly qualified candidates" for each opening. The decision to not teach part-time as an adjunct, at least for now, was best for me. I'm too tired to drive two hours (or more) to teach one class in the fall for 80 minutes. Also, teaching part-time where I wasn't renewed full-time wasn't going to be comfortable. (The hiring process still angers me.) The pay was fair, but the situation would not have been healthy for me. If I teach again, it will be somewhere more welcoming. My passion remains creative writing, and the rhetoric of stage and screen — followed closely by the visual rhetoric of page design (including digital "pages"). Give me scripts, sets, and camera angles. I'll ponder what makes a great play vs. a great movie, and how both are...

I completed my doctorate in June 2010. It is now June 2015. Five year after earning the doctorate, there's little to show for it. I have taught, but at my last post I was not on the tenure track and that is unlikely now. I might be a lecturer or adjunct here and there, but that's not the career I imagined. It's also not the path my wife had imagined, and certainly not the path that we went into debt for, yet again. Yes, I've applied for teaching jobs. No, I don't really want them, but teaching is the only thing I seem to be able to do, in part because of the schedule. Unfortunately, my degree choices weren't the wisest. The doctorate was an accomplishment, but to what end I don't know anymore. My wife needs stability. She likes routines and order as much as I do. We both hate any reminders that we are powerless. We organize our spaces, because that is something we can do. Unfortunately, we can organize books and things, but not my career. We won'...

Years ago, when I entered graduate school, I imagined helping students and teachers connect via technology. I wanted to study "writing across the curriculum" and online writing labs. These interests led me to a doctorate… but by the time I completed the degree I recognized that my career was already off my planned course. When I decided that writing about autism and education would be beneficial to someone, beyond myself, part of that decision was based on the (yes, we should admit this) trendiness of disability studies and all things diversity-based. I could do some good, and the topic would be desired by other academic scholars. It was a win-win. Instead, I found myself drifting back and forth between what I love (creative writing and the rhetoric of fiction) and what I believed I had to do to secure a teaching job (something autism-related). Not that I don't care about autism, but it isn't nearly the interest for me that it is for some other autistic scholars...

If I could, I would write full-time. That is what I want, and what I have dreamed of since first grade. To be a professional writer.  Teaching seemed like a good way to support writing. But, no luck with that approach.  Under-employed or unemployed, whatever I am about to be is everything I've hated about life since I left my undergraduate college in early 1991. Each time I dream of a stable, "normal" future, one with a career that allows for some order in life, the job goes sideways and my plans disintegrate. Attempts to create my own career have ended badly, too, for various reasons. No excuses: I simply am not good at the soft skills needed for success. I've worked on those skills, but they never develop. I am lousy at understanding people, and I lack the superior tech skills or proper degree to overcome that shortcoming. I can program, manage databases, configure Web servers, but I'm not the next app wizard. I never mastered OS X / iOS programming...

Companies, non-profits, and educational institutions should hire me as a consultant (or others with expertise in accommodations and supports for cognitive difference) because too many organizations do not know how to hire, support, and develop talented people with personality traits outside the accepted norms. Readers of this blog know that my experiences in the "tolerant" world of academia demonstrate that "tolerance" is not acceptance or support. I don't want to be "tolerated" (you tolerate bad weather, you tolerate an annoying relative). People with cognitive difference want to be appreciated, listened to, and supported. This post uses the first-person "I" but it likely represents the "we" of many people with differences society hasn't embraced. I'm not going to settle for being tolerated. No thank you. Like many advocates, I do not want your pity or your tolerance. I want to be an equal, not a token. Moving on fr...

Hamerschlag Hall is one of the principal teaching facilities of the Carnegie Institute of Technology (Photo credit: Wikipedia ) For the 2014-15 academic year, my title will be "Visiting Assistant Teaching Professor of Business Communication." Reading this long title on my contract, I considered how labels and titles, beyond "disabled" and whatnot, shape how people view us. And so, an analysis: Visiting: not expected to remain; a guest; a traveler heading elsewhere. Assistant: working to aid others. Teaching: responsible for educating, with any research duties subordinate. Professor: respected for past academic accomplishments. Business Communication: specializing in workplace communication, instead of academic discourse. The full title implies my role is to teach classes in the business school so other professors can focus on research. It is a temporary post, one that many scholars hold at an institution before locating a permanent position. ...

I am considering two possible full-time posts at the university where I teach part-time. I love where I teach and shifting to full-time would enable me to better support the local performing arts. The university supports my artistic endeavors, and that's refreshing. Accepting a post does not require scholarship if I wish to maintain "teaching track" status in the future, but an administrator told it would be "icing on the cake" and has led to teaching-track faculty being awarded research support and rank promotion (associate, full, etc.). A few colleagues have suggested I compose a research agenda statement and pursue publishing on my dissertation topic. My doctoral research topic was autistic students and online education, though I also conducted two grant-supported surveys on the general experiences of autistics in college writing courses. To revise and publish the research would be a serious undertaking, but I believe one that would serve the community and th...

Each new semester begins with anxiety, doubt, fear, and insecurity. Teaching means standing before a group of people, trying to convince them you are going to say and do something worthy of attention. This was difficult teaching at a mid-range state university, a land-grant research university, and even a small private college. I don't care where you teach, you know that part of the job is rhetorical — persuading an audience to follow along. Now, I teach at one of the top universities in the world, in a top-ten program. These students are the best of the best. These are not only the perfect SAT/ACT scores, they are also the student council presidents, drama club stars, musicians, and more. They are so talented it is often beyond my comprehension. And I'm expected to help them learn about writing, public speaking, and general rhetoric. Surviving the first day without a panic attack or meltdown? That's a victory. By week three, I'm fine, but those first two we...

As I continue this irregularly appearing series on writing and autism, I hope that some readers form connections from some points to others — and reach conclusions about how we might better understand autism's affect on academic writing. This post is a good point to consider a challenge many autistics face when writing: Failing to explain conclusions, assuming readers share the author's experiences and views A fair amount of autism scholarship focuses on issues of awareness of "self" and "other" when analyzing situations. Many of the instruments screening for autism include measures of how well, and how consistently, an autistic person can evaluate the emotions, needs, and desires of others. But, academic writing asks us to connect to the experiences of others — an impossibility. Some writing instructors will say, "Don't assume your readers know anything." Of course, that's not really good advice. You have to assume audiences have som...

This will be one of the shorter posts in my writing and autism series. Students with autism spectrum disorders can analyze situations and audiences, but they are more prone to mistaken assumptions about their audiences. The challenge for students with ASDs might be summarized as: Assuming audience familiarity with information, generally assuming too much prior familiarity with the topic addressed I tend to forget that not everyone shares my interests. This is not uncommon among people with autistic traits. I cannot comprehend why other people aren't fascinated by computers, history, music, economics, theater, typography, and a dozen other topics. If there's something to be learned, why would anyone not want to learn it? When I write about various topics, I forget that not everyone reads and researches compulsively. My wife, who edits most of what I write, often identifies the "leaps" I take and reminds me to fill in the gaps. That's not always easy, si...

One of the challenges for autistic writers is the artificial nature of "academic perspective" in college writing. Instead of the concrete "me" and "you" of other genres, academic writing uses the distant, artificial, and abstract, "one" — or nothing at all. Academic writing avoids the first- and second-person point of view vigorously. Emphasizing the personal instead of the general, leading to a "first-person" perspective when inappropriate to the genre Readers of this series of essays will recognize that abstractions pose a problem for many, if not most, students with autism spectrum disorders. Since a diagnostic criteria for ASDs is concrete thinking, writing teachers need to resist the impulse to "fix" the autistic perspective. Instead, I argue that it is academia with the problem, not the students. Writing and literature classes discuss the "constructed author" (or some variation of that phrase). The noti...

A former classmate recently asked me if I belong, actively, to any of our academic communities. The very question reminded me how outside the community of scholars in my academic discipline I am. The word "community" is overused in composition and rhetoric. Beyond overused, I've wondered if it is part of an inside joke. He clarified, thankfully, by asking which groups of scholars would know my name or my work. I asked why that matters; as long as I'm writing at home with my cats and my wife, I don't need to be known. I wasn't understanding his point. "To build an academic career, you need to be known." That makes sense, I suppose. You have to publish papers and appear at conferences to earn tenure. You must be a part of the "community" to reach the top of the field. I doubt I'm destined for the top of rhetoric or writing studies. I'm on the fringes of the community. My friend advised me to focus on the communities I w...

Two years ago, I posted on the topic of "Writing and Autism" because teachers and students were asking me for suggestions to improve grades on written assignments. I posted two entries, and then redirected people to the Tameri Guide for Writers , which my wife and I maintain. Many of the issues I might address for students with ASDs and other challenges were similar to what I observe for most students. Something about the way we teach writing in the K-12 system fails to prepare students, and students with disabilities struggle a bit more with writing. My doctoral dissertation raised questions about how well autistic students navigate academic writing, especially at the college level. The mandated first-year composition courses common in our universities carry a number of assumptions about what is "normal" and what is the "right" way to think about the world around us. Some of the classic scholarship in writing studies makes claims about thinking and pro...

I have a draft book chapter due March 15. It is an important project, whether I remain in academia or not, but I am finding it difficult to complete the draft to my liking. Some call this being "stuck in neutral" because little progress is made no matter how much I try to accomplish on this project. The project is outlined, I know what I am trying to communicate, and it needs to be done quickly so my wife can review it and I can submit a good draft. The problem is that I have accepted that my academic career seems to be ending, at least the full-time, tenure-track career I had hoped to have. Writing this book chapter, then, must be motivated by the hope that it will influence others, encouraging faculty to consider students with special needs. Consider the irony: I'm writing to faculty about inclusionary designs, while I never felt "included" within academia. It is hard to write about classroom designs and the challenges students with special needs en...