{"id":491,"date":"2008-06-21T15:58:00","date_gmt":"2008-06-21T15:58:00","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/susansenator.com\/blog2\/2008\/06\/my-blindness\/"},"modified":"2008-06-21T15:58:00","modified_gmt":"2008-06-21T15:58:00","slug":"my-blindness","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/susansenator.com\/blog\/2008\/06\/my-blindness\/","title":{"rendered":"My-Blindness"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>One of the stereotypes about autism I am guilty of perpetrating is that there is a deficit in intuitive knowledge.  I have observed in Nat over the years an apparent lack of knowledge about things that I thought were &#8220;common sense.&#8221;  But the more I live with him, the more I understand that with autism, the differences between one person and another are not about my world vs. your world.  There is no retreating into another world.  The closedness we observe may not be what we think.  I have come to believe that there is not &#8220;surroundings dumbness&#8221; (my term) anymore than there is a <a href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Mind-blindness\">&#8220;mind-blindness.&#8221;<\/a>  As satisfying it was for me to believe in this condition in Nat, I now realize that the blindness was on my part.  While it is true that Nat has had to be taught many things that I or my other two sons do more naturally, like reading others&#8217; expressions, it is not because he doesn&#8217;t know how to tune into others.  It&#8217;s more because he does not realize that this practice is important.  Or he&#8217;s not ready to.  They are subtle distinctions, but I believe they are absolutely important ones.<\/p>\n<p>I had that sense about him even when he was very little; that his way of being was not necessarily about a <span style=\"font-style: italic;\">deficit,<\/span> as much as a lack of desire.  Not a willful refusal, either, but rather, a simple but perhaps subconscious understanding he had of himself that this was not for him, not yet, perhaps never.  Something like that.  I could tell that he knew <span style=\"font-style: italic;\">how<\/span> to say hi to people, or play with toys.  What he did not know was <span style=\"font-style: italic;\">why <\/span>those were good, desirable things.  In some ways, my sister was right when she said so long ago, &#8220;So?  Why does he have to play with stupid toys anyway?&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>I used to plead with his teachers, &#8220;Tell me how to get him to like being with other kids, not merely to <span style=\"font-style: italic;\">tolerate <\/span>being with other kids!&#8221;  (&#8220;Tolerating&#8221; something is a big goal in the ABA community.  The belief is you get enough tolerance stored up within and you eventually generalize to liking that thing, to choosing that thing.  I have found this to be so.  But what a drag.)<\/p>\n<p> I despaired over his autism, because I thought that it was getting in the way of his happiness. But it was really getting in the way of <span style=\"font-style: italic;\">mine.  <\/span>But for him, maybe it was just that he was not ready for those kinds of interactions, and did not make them a priority until he was.  Now he loves to be with other kids, other people.  And still, he doesn&#8217;t like talking to them, which is basically all I do with other people I like.  So I&#8217;ve learned:  Nat has his way, I have mine. <\/p>\n<p>What Nat knows and doesn&#8217;t know is a bit of a mystery to me.  What human is not a mystery to another?  We think we know what someone is thinking, we take pleasure in predicting another&#8217;s actions, or perverse pleasure in recounting another&#8217;s allegedly evil agendas.  But how often are we <span style=\"font-style: italic;\">right?<\/span> <\/p>\n<p>Today we went on a bike ride together and I could see that Nat was very much aware of his surroundings and what to do most of the time, like brake when he got to a stop sign or close to other people.  I was breathlessly proud of him, watching him take hills effortlessly without shifting (doesn&#8217;t know how, doesn&#8217;t need to know how, with those muscular legs), and to see the smile on his face, so like mine.  But when we got to a high curb, he clearly did not know how to get his bike down to the street.  I had to teach him.  I would have thought this was a natural motion to people &#8212; the bike lift and lower &#8212; but not for Nat.  So I showed him.  And now he knows.  Big deal. <\/p>\n<p>Perhaps it stands out to people, this sort of apparently-obvious thing that is not so obvious to guys like Nat.  But the fact is, I have to teach obvious things to Ned, Max, and Ben, too.  I have to prompt Ben to answer people who ask him questions.  I sometimes whisper, hiss-like, to Ned, &#8220;Be nice!&#8221;  And with Max, I still have to let him know when he has taken someone for granted.  And I am constantly learning that I truly do not know the &#8220;real&#8221; reason someone does something I don&#8217;t like.  Most of the time it has nothing to do with me at all, it turns out!!<\/p>\n<p>So why should Nat&#8217;s be considered a deficit or get a pejorative label?   Maybe we can just realize that we can teach people things but sometimes we have to wait until they are ready to learn.  And the learning never stops.  For him and for me.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>One of the stereotypes about autism I am guilty of perpetrating is that there is a deficit in intuitive knowledge. I have observed in Nat over the years an apparent lack of knowledge about things that I thought were &#8220;common sense.&#8221; But the more I live with him, the more I understand that with autism, [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":false,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-491","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/pSTth-7V","jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack-related-posts":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/susansenator.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/491","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/susansenator.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/susansenator.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/susansenator.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/susansenator.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=491"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/susansenator.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/491\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/susansenator.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=491"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/susansenator.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=491"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/susansenator.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=491"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}