Susan Senator

It is only now getting light. Even in the semi-darkness of dawn I can see that the leaves on the trees are past their prime, with a brownish cast to them, set off eerily by the orange street light. I woke up way too early this morning; my mind is already on the go, frenetically bouncing from topic to topic, trying to locate the cause of my buzz.

And it’s Nat. I am breathlessly watching new progress and wondering what to do to nurture it, and what it’s about. Of course, I suspiciously fear talking about it a little bit because I don’t want it to disappear. I know that is “magical thinking,” but without enough sleep it seems more real to me than in the comfort of soft, yellow daylight.

Nat is smiling more than ever. He seems more flexible, more willing to do anything we’re doing. He also seems more jittery; he mutters to himself constantly, in his own language and he will not let me join with him in that. But I don’t care. I feel his happiness so clearly, he could be spouting farts and it would be okay with me. Though far more problematic with the public and his brothers.

In her very articulate and thought-provoking blog, Kristina Chew has brought up the concept that stings like a bee, and I don’t mean Mohammed Ali: the whole issue of “high-functioning” and “low-functioning” in autism. I remember when Nat was first diagnosed, and he was termed “Fairly high-functioning.” Now, he is more frequently said to be, “fairly low-functioning.” I believe the designation is all about how much a person talks. As I said to Kristina in her comments page, what a completely Neuro-Typical-centric definition of functioning! Why the premium on talking?

Or is the definition even more insidious? Is “high-functioning” code for “like normal?” What does that mean? “Acts like a ‘typical’ kid?” Meaning what? Mouths off to parents, dresses badly, considers Yes to be great music, pretends to be interested in high school clubs only to get into a good college, is really only looking to get laid or as close to it as possible without consequences? (Oh, sorry, I just described myself as a ‘typical’ teeenage girl back in the 1970’s). Oh, yes, I would have been considered ‘typical,’ and ‘high-functioning.’ You could not shut me up! I was an A student, I was on two teams, (field hockey and track) I always had a boyfriend, had a best friend, was part of a group of kids just like me, I was in National Honor Society, Ski Club, Latin Club, went to an Ivy League school, blah blah blah .

Which brings me to my point. Nat is, perhaps, none of the things mentioned above. Well, he is on more teams, however: swim team, soccer team, basketball team, and maybe ski team (we’ll see how it goes). Nat does not go after girls (or boys); he is not in any clubs (his school does not have clubs). Nat wears whatever I put in his drawers. He doesn’t know from Abercrombie or AE. Nat will not tell me what is on his mind.

But neither will Max. Maybe for different reasons. Or maybe because neither of them knows how to figure out how to express such a thing.

But, Nat, as I have said, is on at least three teams and has been on more in the past. Nat helps me make dinner, clean the house, bring things in from the car, mow the lawn. Nat eats anything I put in front of him; any concoction I’ve attempted in the kitchen. Nat rides a bike, uses an iPod, reads, does all of his schoolwork without complaint.

Nat had a bar mitzvah. Nat says the prayers at the beginning of any holiday we are celebrating. Nat will always give you a piece of whatever he is eating.

Nat has his own language which he does not want to share with us. Nat likes to pace or lie around on the weekends, rather than I.M. with people or hang out at a mall or spend money. Nat may not even understand money, but he does understand the moment I am finished paying in a restaurant, because he waits for that before he stands up.

Why not make “high” and “low” functioning be about how happy a person is? In that case, I am, half the time, “low” functioning. Nat is far more “high,” in that case.

I can’t begin to convey the specifics of what makes Nat a person; a full, deep, complicated young man. I know what I feel when my eye picks him out, walking back and forth in a crowded airport, and I make fleeting eye contact with him, and there is a burst of lightning between us that I know he feels, too. He just doesn’t go on and on about it the way I do. He notes that I have arrived (yesterday at Logan airport), and instead of pacing back and forth, he starts walking straight, out of the airport. It’s Mommy. Yes.

How do you draw a definition around an entire human being? “High.” “Low.” It is about as telling as a chalk outline of a crime victim. And as dignified.