A Challenge to Autism Professionals

The theories regarding autism have been based on observation of our odd behaviors. Lists of these behaviors make a diagnosis. I have limited independence in selfcare. I have limited eye contact. I have flat affect often. I can’t express my ideas verbally. I have poor fine motor control. I have impaired initiation. I have impaired gross motor control. I have difficulty controlling intense emotions. I have impulse control challenges and self stimulatory behavior.
Whew. When I write that it sounds pretty bad, but I function adequately in this world. I am now 17 and I am a fulltime high school student in a general education program. I am in Honors Chemistry, Honors US History and Honors English. I am in Algebra 2, Spanish and Animal Sciences. I get straight As. I work out with a trainer 2 or 3 times a week to get fit. I study piano. I hike, cook, and help take care of a horse. I am invited to speak at universities and autism agencies. I am the author of Ido in Autismland, and a blogger as well. I have friends.
I say this, not to brag, but to let you know that people like me, with severe autism, who act weirdly and who can’t speak, are not less human, as Dr. Lovaas suggested, and are not doomed to live lives of rudimentary information and bored isolation.( “You have a person in a physical sense — they have hair, a nose and a mouth — but they are not people in the psychological sense,” the late Ivar Lovaas, a UCLA researcher, said in a 1974 interview with Psychology Today).

I communicate by typing on an iPad with an app that has both word prediction and voice output. I also  communicate by using good, old-fashioned letterboard pointing. If I had not been taught to point to letters or to type without tactile support, many people would never have realized that my mind was intact.
My childhood was not easy because I had no means to communicate at all, despite my 40 hours a week of intensive ABA therapy. I pointed to flashcards and I touched my nose, but I had no means to convey that I thought deeply, understood everything, but was locked internally. Meticulously collected data showed my incorrect answers to flashcard drills, but the limitations of theory are in the interpretations.
My mistakes were proof to my instructors of my lack of comprehension or intelligence, so we did the same boring, baby lessons year after boring year. How I dreamed of being able to communicate the truth then to my instructors and my family too, but I had no way to express my ideas. All they gave me was the ability to request foods and basic needs.
Here is what I would have told them if I could have when I was small. My body isn’t under my mind’s complete control. I know the right answer to these thrilling flashcards, unfortunately my hand isn’t fully under my control either. My body is often ignoring my thoughts. I look at my flashcards. You ask me to touch ‘tree,’ for example, and though I can clearly differentiate between tree, house, boy and whatever cards you have arrayed, my hand doesn’t consistently obey me. My mind is screaming, “Don’t touch house!” It goes to house. Your notes say, “Ido is frustrated in session today.” Yes, frustration often occurs when you can’t show your intelligence and neurological forces impede communication between mind and body and experts then conclude that you are not cognitively processing human speech.
In my childhood I feared I would remain stuck forever in this horrible trap, but I was truly fortunate to be freed when I was 7 when my mother realized my mind was intact, and both my parents searched to find a way to help me communicate without tactile support.
Thousands of autistic people like me live life in isolation and loneliness, denied education, condemned to baby talk and high fives, and never able to express a thought. The price of assuming that nonverbal people with autism have impaired thinking is a high one to families and to people who live in solitary confinement within their own bodies. It is high time professionals rethought their theories.

8 Responses to A Challenge to Autism Professionals

  1. Ido, thanks for writing this. As a person who works with people experiencing Autism, it gives me a lot to think about and questions how I may approach the situation.

    Do you have any practical suggestions for professionals, to help us identify how to help a non-speaking individual begin to communicate? For example, I assume it’s not as easy as presenting various communication methods in front of them and assuming that, if they don’t use it, it doesn’t work. I’d be interested to know your thoughts on how finding the right communication medium could be achieved. Thanks!

  2. What a powerful article – I am so glad that you have written this book – I will be sure to spread the word so others can see and read it. Thanks again.

  3. Thank you so much for doing this and be our kids’ voice. Can I share this with other parents?

  4. Thank you! How? How did your Mum and Dad help you to communicate? My little boy has so much to offer the world but HOW do you build that bridge??

  5. I have been reading sections of your book aloud to teachers working to get an Autism Authorization in the state of Callifornia as part of weekly class activities! It has been very powerful and a great opener for discussion for each topic.

  6. Ido in a Autismland

    Hi Nate,
    I recommend you check out Soma Mukhopadhyay’s webpage at http://www.halo-soma.org and look into her theories.

  7. Ido, this is quite possibly the best thing I’ve read. It’s poignant, concise and I just want to share it with everyone I know! You have no idea how your words affect change for those who still need a voice. I look forward to reading your book! I’d love to share your writing on my blog or vise versa. I’m so thankful to others who found their voice and paved the way so that I, as a parent, would know in my heart and mind that communication was possible. Now my daughter, Emma has a voice and honestly it’s because of people like you who share your story.

  8. Aimee Fernback

    Hi, Ido,
    I have a 10 year old son with severe autism, who has all the same stims and interests you describe in your brave, wonderful book. I read it and cried, realizing that my prayers to God of the last ten years for help in knowing how to help my son have been finally answered. Thank you so much for writing. I have always known that my son wanted to tell me something, and now I truly understand what his world has been like. I understand your frustrations and was mad at God for a while, too…but you need to know that God is using both your abilities and your autism to set other people with autism free. He cares about you and about my son, and now that we know these things about what it’s like to have autism, my son will have a meaningful life as you do. Thank you for allowing God to use your autism for good. You are an overcomer, and I am going to make all of my son’s teachers read your book and learn from it. My son can now write to me from his heart. He told me that he loves me, which is the best gift ever. Thank you so much for being an ambassador between those who have autism and those who love them and need to understand.

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