It’s funny the memories that stick with as you go through life. Sometimes, if you are really paying attention, even the most mundane memories, such as driving by a billboard on the side of a country road can give you a glimpse into your future.
I am a college professor, a husband, and father of two young boys. Oh and by the way, I also have Asperger’s Syndrome. No longer an official diagnosis of its own, Asperger’s syndrome refers to Autism as occurring on a spectrum, Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD), in order to reflect the wide variation in symptoms and severity of symptoms people experience. As the saying goes, “If you’ve met one person with autism, you’ve met 1 person with autism.”
ASD afflicts both males and females, with some estimates putting the ratio of autistic boys to autistic girls 4:1. While each unique, people on the spectrum are typically separated into two groups; nonspeaking and speaking. Nonverbal autism describes people who are (as the term would describe) only able to use minimal amounts of words or who don’t speak at all. Some studies put this number of people with ASD at 25-30%. Individuals like myself, who speak without obstacles, make up the rest. Along with language delays, another hallmark sign of autism is an inability to understand the social cues that non-autistic people take for granted.
Even though I’m 43, my mother still likes to break out the story of when I was 3 years old and she took me to my older sister’s parent-teacher conferences. My sister’s principal, an older, and noticeably overweight nun named Sister Cabrini came over to greet us. Now non-autistic individuals (or neurotypicals) would predict that a 3 year old might shy away from this stranger or just throw out a quick hello. I responded to Principal Cabrini’s greeting with “Do you know what you look like to me?” My mother tightened her grasp on my hand, urging me to lose interest in the conversation as she knew what was coming. Principal Cabrini, taking the bait, asked, “What do I look like to you, Matthew?” I responded, “You look like a fat, little old lady.”
Being a new parent is hard enough, especially if it is your first time. If you add to the mix that your newborn could be autistic (a study as recent as 2018 put the this chance at 1 out of 44), along with a veritable smorgasbord of other potential illnesses; it’s no wonder why parents and families seem extraordinarily stressed. I have learned that we tend to fear what we do not know. In the absence of facts, we make guesses to fill in the gaps of our knowledge. Here’s what I know. My oldest son, James, who is now 13, did not act like a typical baby (if there even is such a thing). Before he could walk, he amused himself by pushing our bedroom door open, then army crawling over to where it stopped, then close it; over and over. When people came to the house, he would throw himself on the floor sobbing because of the unexpected change in his social situation. When other two-year-olds would rush to the window in excitement to greet friends coming to visit, my son would run to the window to make sure that visitors were indeed leaving.
We typically see ASD diagnosed in young boys. However, I didn’t get my diagnosis until my late 30s. As Carter aged, I couldn’t help but notice certain similarities between him and me. We both were exceptionally intelligent, but only in the topics which we deemed interesting. For instance, as a pre-schooler, Carter obsessed about the sinking of the Titanic; not about the ship itself, but rather what happened as it hit the iceberg and sunk to the ocean bottom. For me, I was obsessed with professional wrestling from 11 years of age to 33. At the time, I could list from memory every heavyweight champion from the early 1960s to the present. We tend to fear what we don’t know, and the good news about Autism is that we know more about it now than ever before and how to treat it.
Here are some of the things we know about Autism.
1. Different doesn’t mean less, it just means different. Though the amount of public attention on Autism seems greater now than in the past, Autism has probably existed for thousands of years, we just didn’t have a name for it. In days gone by, autistic children and adults were labeled as “quirky” or “socially awkward.” My point is, autistic individuals have always been around us; and this proves that being on the spectrum does not have to be an obstacle to enjoying a full and rewarding life.
2. Early intervention is key. Since we develop so many of our communication skills in the first years of life, the earlier parents identify their children as neurodiverse, the more autistic children can benefit from related training. My wife, James’ mother, has a background in education and knew what to keep an eye out for when he was just born. There is no universal list for early autism in children. Nonetheless, some commonly accepted evidence include:
Making little or no eye contact.
Having a flat facial affect, in other words, have little or no range in facial expressions.
Being a late speaker (saying only single words by 15 months or only 2 word phrases by 24 months).
Engaging in ritualized play (Carter loved to line his toys up in rows that made sense to him).
Engaging in repeated or ritualistic play (i.e., opening and closing a bedroom door repeatedly).
3. Resources are available. St. Cloud State University, the Department of Communication Sciences and Disorders runs a Speech-Language and Hearing clinic. They have a history of offering programs that pair graduate students (overseen by a faculty mentor) with autistic children in our community in order to develop the social skills of the latter. You can call the department at 320-308-2092. St. Cloud State offers an outreach program for college bound adults on the spectrum. Supporting Autistic Students Success Initiative, you can learn more about SASSI at www.stcloudstate.edu/sassi
The billboard which I mentioned at the beginning of this article read “1 in 168 babies born will be autistic”. This was back in 2008, and I remember thinking how hard it would be to raise a child with autism. Now with the gift of hindsight, I realize that my chances of autism are 100%. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.