The autism spectrum is a very broad and diverse measure of an epidemic nobody understands. Quantified as a 1 to 10 continuum, the range includes kids unable to care for themselves in any meaningful way, or communicate whatsoever, up to and including those who are fully functional members of society yet possess mannerisms and deficits they themselves can’t recognize to address but are often tormented by.
One of the best friends I ever had was a golden boy. We met as part of the same youth football team; he was the quarterback, I was the center. Even then, one could recognize he was outside the normal mold, as painfully shy as he was talented. Handsome, athletic, incredibly intelligent, practically a musical prodigy, he could have been any kind, in any field of endeavor. But his stilted ability to engage with others and a tendency toward obsessive-compulsiveness meant to fully thrive and make the most of his gifts he required structure, a constructive routine he could embrace. He never got it.
Instead he got me and the rest of our gang, and the idle hours of skateboarding and self-medication that only sabotaged his development. Understand, we loved him and accepted him for exactly who he was, but provided nothing to help him grow. When, living in Ocean City, he contracted an infection from a skateboard injury that turned his leg into a watermelon. I brought him fried chicken from my job down the street, and all were quick to share whatever substances could be acquired to dull the pain. Eventually, I believe, we got him a ride home with somebody and his parents got him the medical attention that literally saved his leg…. that was the extent of what we were good for.
Truth is we were all caught up in our own situations, encumbered by our own frailties and limitations. Each of us had his own narrative, which my pal was only a part of. Had he had the Asperger’s diagnosis back then, perhaps the parents who loved him would have found the intervention he required to reach his limitless potential. But 40 years ago there was no such understanding, and my buddy was on his own.
At his funeral four years ago, the mood was very somber. His passing from alcoholism was not really shocking. Those closest to him were reconciled that his story could end prematurely. He was married to a woman he loved, but few thought him content, and fewer still believed he ended up in a place that suited his God-given attributes. We celebrated who he was, and appreciated everything about him, but all who knew him best saw his story as more cautionary tale than anything else. He didn’t require much, yet the nothing he received was not near enough.
Anybody who has carefully watched Greta Thunberg through the filter of autism awareness quickly recognizes she is on the spectrum. Her cadence is rigid, her statements terse and declarative. When she was testifying before a House committee, the efforts of members to engage her in jocular give and take usually created awkwardness as she struggled a bit with inflections and implied understanding.
Yet and still, her Aspergers and young age don’t prevent her from pursuing the mission she rises and sleeps by. Her singular focus imparts Climate Change with the deadly seriousness it deserves. After sailing across the Atlantic to join the fray in a country that has fully lost its way, Greta Thunberg is exactly who we need to listen to, with exactly the right traits for the task. Her utter indifference to herself as anything more than a messenger with a dire tale to tell couldn’t be more refreshing, even as reason’s arch nemesis shames his country by regurgitating nihilist talking points… mindless throwaway labels like “hoax” and “fraud”. But if Trump is every reason to be pessimistic about our present, Greta is all we need to be optimistic about our future.
Perhaps Greta at her finest was on display when she was testifying before the House Committee on Natural Resources. GOP Rep. Garrett Graves of Louisiana, figuring he’d get cute pushing the climate denial trope that the US is foolish to limit its own carbon footprint when others like China and India lag behind with an analogy a little girl could grasp, asked Greta how she’d feel in her boat on the ocean if every time she picked up one piece of trash other mariners discarded five pieces. Greta was at first puzzled by the question, her Aspergers foisting a literal comprehension as she digested it. So she said simply she was going too fast to pick anything up out of the water. After Graves laughed off that response, she declared she’d simply continue her task while asking the others to stop littering. But after she was given another minute to consider the matter as other witnesses jumped in, she was devastating. I should tell you, she admonished Graves, that in my country others say exactly that about the US, “so you should know that is being turned around against you.” Game Over! Graves had nothing to rejoin with…. thoroughly owned by a 16-year old force of nature.
Who is to say what is and isn’t a strength or weakness? Life is situational and people are different. My friend did the best he could on his own, within the context he wouldn’t leave behind. He became a great skateboarder, pioneering vertical riding on the east coast, pushing the limits until his body rebelled, becoming a bit of a legend to those who came after him. When he passed he was missed by many, and nobody could be found to disparage him. Maybe that’s enough? ……. Maybe not.
Yet right here and right now, as our planet faces destruction due to equal parts of corporate greed, willful ignorance and the notion comfort zones should not be adjusted, there has perhaps emerged precisely the right person with just the traits required to make an impact. Greta embraces her autism as a “superpower.” Who could argue? At the UN yesterday she towered over the forum for climate action, fully eclipsing our whiner-in-chief, wholly unimpressed by his narcissism. Her direct and uncompromising pursuit of something as basic as her generation’s survival calls for nothing flashy, only focused refusal to accept less than full cooperation. Greta offers no tolerance or forgiveness for the double-tongues, and a personal example that should shame deniers into reconsideration. I’m with her! BC
Thank you for sharing your perspective on my brother’s life story, the challenges he was not able to overcome and how those of us who loved him struggled with not knowing how to help him. Your writing is poignant and insightful. Still I wonder, how does the addictive personality fit into the broad range that is ASD.
Kevin, I think of John often. In a lot of ways, even though I moved on from him in my mid-20s, he was the best friend I ever had. Always there, no intrigue or politics, gossip or backstabbing, just an honest and incredibly decent person. The bond Bill, Brian, Dan, John and I had was very special, although we certainly weren’t the types to dwell on it. I know they, like me, think of John all the time and miss him very much.
As to his addictions and his Aspergers. Autism goes hand in hand with OCD. John had an “addictive personality” only in so much as the things he was addicted to became integral to the routines he depended on to cope. Routines are everything to most on the spectrum, literally how they make it through life. Forcing somebody with autism to constantly deal with change isn’t just counterproductive, it’s cruel. John became an alcoholic slowly, over time. First it was all pot and whatever pills and such we could acquire because we were too young to acquire beer; it wasn’t worth the trouble. But then it became the rite of downing PBRs after skate sessions, and that of course was amplified when we got down to OC, which was not for the meek. I honestly don’t remember John as a huge drinker, but I’m sure once into the everyday routines of farm life, the predictable schedule, and perhaps turmoil and codependency Sarah brought to the party, it just became part of him, a routine he depended on to make it through the day. Once it chemically grabbed hold of his physiology that was that. As predictable as it was tragic. Part of my own set of frailties is a tendency to shut myself off from those I know are important to me. Had I to do it over again, your family farm would have been a more regular destination.
Finally, you should understand and appreciate, if you don’t already, how much your brother loved you. He simply wasn’t able to fully enunciate it. I saw it from very early on and appreciated it. He would often talk about how accomplished you were with enthusiasm and pride. You may not realize it, but you and your sisters were always the most important people in John’s life; there is no question about that.
I hope you become a fan of my blog and share it. At this critical time, I believe it to be important and relevant. All my best, BC
Brian,
Thanks for keeping John’s memories alive and for all your kind and thoughtful words. I have been enjoying reading all your recent posts and am glad there is another such articulate voice to share on these important issues.
Cheers,
Kevin