"You don't understand…." When a parent starts a conversation with those words, I know to anticipate a long list of what I don't appreciate as the person with challenges, compared to the parent of a disabled child. It is both a logical and an absurd statement. I've never been another color, another gender, another nationality, or another religion — yet I would assume most people try to understand and appreciate the experiences of people from other groups. I know my childhood friends with Spanish surnames were treated unfairly by some teachers. I know people assume I know about cars, while it is my wife who is the engineer. You can appreciate without total understanding — because even within a group the experiences differ. No, I am not a parent. I am not a caregiver. But, to assume I don't empathize is to accept one of the worst stereotypes of both autism spectrum disorders and mental giftedness. While I might not translate empathy quickly, I definitely ...
At birth, doctors suggested I would be mentally disabled, in addition to the physical injuries I suffered. I have never been described as normal. “High-functioning autism” (HFA) is just another way to describe a few aspects of “me.” The autistic me is the creative me, the curious me, the complete me.