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...

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...

Teaching is about reading, and sending, social signals. In some subjects, that's more problematic than in others. Math or science topics would probably be a good fit for my personality. But, as readers know, I took a wrong turn in my studies and ended up in the humanities. It is one thing to love the media and arts, and I do, but another to teach in them. I enjoy subjects that aren't easily taught -- subjects without clear answers. Granted, I also love science and probably should have pursued STEM fields professionally while keeping the arts my hobbies. Teaching business communications, I feel like a nonnative speaker. There is always room to improve, at least. I theorize that my struggles do help me teach. That belief helps me get through the semesters. Reading my teaching evaluations, it strikes me how often students experience something quite different from what I hoped to convey. They miss the humor I imagine is obvious, or hear humor when none is intended. They con...

Ignoring people isn't something I can do. There is no "polite mode" with my lack of executive function. If someone is a jerk, I tell the person, at that moment. That's something non-autistics never quite grasp, either. My wife has known me for 30 years and forgets that I have no mental editor. Unfortunately, I also relive moments, visually and aurally, for years after the incident. It is a mental film loop, playing repeatedly every day of my life. It is unpleasant, especially since one bad moment with a person or group is the moment that sticks with me for decades. If someone is rude, insulting, or cruel, that person has become a life-long miserable memory that can be triggered by the slightest thing. So, the best option is to avoid potential jerks.

April is autism something-or-other month, depending on whom you ask. It's all about "acceptance" or "awareness" or "diversity" or "celebration" or "pride" — and I'm sure a few other concepts. To this, I respond with a busy, preoccupied, "Whatever." I get that people want to find support, inspiration, connections, and resources. I'm all for helping people, especially autistic teens and adults, find ways to achieve all they can. If autism month helps people find those supports, great. But, what I dislike is the absurdity of the news media during this annual panic-feeding month. Put the risks in context: http://www.nytimes.com/2014/03/30/opinion/sunday/how-to-think-about-the-risk-of-autism.html You want to know what "caused" my autistic traits? Birth trauma. Period. And sure enough, that's number two on the list of risk factors, right beneath an autistic twin. But, easy explanations aren...

It is that time again. It's that time of the year when I see a spike in traffic to some old blog posts on puzzle pieces and autism awareness. It is either Autism Awareness or Autism Acceptance month, or something along those lines. I get messages asking if I'll discuss "promoting autism awareness," which seems a bit odd to me by now. Awareness? Who isn't "aware" of autism? The media (including some celebrities) have done a great job promoting "awareness" of autism. There are plenty of news stories and events promoting the ideas of an autism "epidemic" (which implies a contagion, but that's a rhetorical debate), various possible causes, and the "suffering" of families, especially parents. I don't know how anyone cannot be aware of autism. Acceptance? At least it sounds better than tolerance. I don't want to be "tolerated" — I want to be included and accepted for the person I am. I can support a camp...

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...