Autism Recovery is possible!

Ten Things Every Child With Autism Wishes You Knew

•1.      I am first and foremost a child.  I have autism.  I am not primarily "autistic."

• As a child, I am still unfolding. Neither you nor I yet know what I may be capable of.

•2.      My sensory perceptions are distorted.

• This means ordinary sights, sounds, smells, tastes, and touches of every day that you may not even notice can be downright painful for me. I may appear withdrawn or belligerent to you but I am really just trying to defend myself.

•3.      Please remember to distinguish between won't (I choose not to) and can't (I am not able to).

• It isn't that I don't listen to instructions. It's that I can't understand you. When you call to me from across the room, this is what I hear: *&^%$#@, Billy. #$%^&^%$&*.

•4.      I am a concrete thinker.  This means I interpret language very literally.

• It's very confusing when you say, "Hold your horses!" when what you really mean is "Please stop running." Idioms, puns, nuances, double entendres, inference, metaphors, allusions, and sarcasm are usually lost on me.

•5.      Please be patient with my limited vocabulary.

• It's hard for me to tell you what I need when I don't know the words to describe my feelings. I may be hungry, frustrated, frightened, or confused but right now those words are beyond my ability to express.

•6.      Because language is so difficult for me, I am very visually oriented.

• Please show me how to do something rather than telling me, and be prepared to show me many times; consistent repetition helps me learn. I'll need visual schedules, even when I'm older. Here's a good website: www.cesa7.k12.wi.us/sped/autism/structure/str11.htm

•7.      Please focus and build on what I can do rather than what I can't do.

• Look for my strengths and you will find them. There is more than one way to do most things.

•8.      Help me with social interactions.

• It may look like I don't want to play with the other kids on the playground but sometimes it's just that I simply do not know how to start a conversation or enter a play situation. If you could encourage other children to invite me to join them at kickball or shooting baskets, I might be delighted to be included. Also, I don't know how to read emotions of others, so if, for example, I laugh when Emily falls off the slide, it's not that I think it's funny. It's that I don't know the proper response. Teach me to ask, "Are you okay?"

•9.      Try to identify what triggers my meltdowns.

• Meltdowns, flow-ups, tantrums, or whatever you want to call them are even more horrid for me than they are for you and occur because one or more of my senses has gone into overload.

•10.  If you are a family member, please love me unconditionally.

• Remember that it is happening to me, not you. Without your support, my chances of successful, self-reliant adulthood are slim. With your support and guidance, the possibilities are broader than you might think. I promise you-I am worth it.

And finally, three words:  Patience.  Patience.  Patience.

It may be true that I'm not good at eye contact or conversation, but have you noticed that I don't lie, cheat at games, tattle on my classmates, or pass judgment on other people?  I probably won't be the next Michael Jordan.  But with my attention to fine detail and capacity for extraordinary focus, I might be the next Einstein.  Or Mozart.  Or Van Gogh.

They had autism, too.

So, be my advocate, be my friend, and we'll see just how far I can go.

Notbohm, E. (2005).  Ten Things Every Child With Autism Wishes You Knew.  Arlington, TX:  Future

                Horizons.