Perspectives
I had an interesting experience yesterday. I was running a Chinese auction (is that politically incorrect? I really don't know) yesterday at a local restaurant for my campus honors society, a young woman came to help who wasn't on the list of volunteers. She just showed up, dressed in her "business" finery (that's what she called it -- "business dress"), donned after working her shift in the weight room at school. She was wearing makeup, and she sat next to me, legs primly crossed. I was used to seeing her barefaced in jeans and hoodies. I had crossed path's with this girl a few times, noticing that something was not quite right with her, but I had attributed it to shyness. She had a very halting manner about her, both in her physical movements and in the way her eyes moved when she spoke.
I have to admit, I was a little disappointed. I was to do the four p.m. to seven p.m. shift alone, and I really didn't expect a mad rush. I had homework to catch up on, but as the chair of said honors society, I couldn't put my nose in my book and ignore my volunteers. So, I tried making conversation with her, tentatively. It took some doing! Her answers were monotone, and seldom did she look in my eyes when she spoke. Finally, and I don't quite remember how, the conversation came around to her condition. That's what she called it. I felt if she brought it up, I could ask some gentle questions. She very candidly told me that she was autistic. High functioning, obviously, but autistic. With this news, I admit, I began to study her as well as converse with her. Autism is so much in the news these days with statistics putting the rate at anywhere from 1 in 500 to 1 in 150 births, and I had not knowingly spent any significant time with someone afflicted. Now, I had my chance.
I noticed several things, and as my laptop battery winds down, I'll try to describe them the best I can.
First, she seemed to be not at all shy. As a matter of fact, I noticed that she was sitting with a group of students today on campus. Guys, as a matter of fact. She seemed quiet, but quite comfortable. As well, she showed up to help with the charity event, and in our talk together, she told me about other events where she just dove right in.
Another thing that struck me was her recall of names, first and last. I'm terrible with names, and it impresses me when anyone, especially in a large student population, can keep people straight. I have six other students serving with me on the honors society board, and I still have to pause to think of their last names. This young woman seemed to know everyone! (I suspected she'd done some research, too -- she knew their majors, their academic advisors, the towns in which they lived! All information available through the campus directory and the postings in the advising center, but still!) She could tell me what our vice-chair was wearing that day and which building he was exiting at what time and in what direction he was heading -- and I don't know that she'd ever had a conversation or a class with him.
She also seemed to have a very strong sense of "sides." She told me that she does deal with a fair amount of teasing in her weight room job. She's dealing with jocks, mainly guys, and anyone, especially someone with a disability, would probably get a hard time from them. She could tell me who was on her side and who was against her. This theme, over and over, came up, when she was talking about faculty, playmates, her little sister. There were very sharp divides. I wondered -- was I on her side? Perhaps I should have asked. I found it curious, especially after recently going through a mediation with two students and not affording to or interested in taking sides, only in helping them to make peace. This young woman shared with me that she wants to be a psychologist. I'll muse on that some more later.
We talked about a lot of different things in the five hours we were together. She had something to say about most everything that came up, but the odd thing was that in her responses on general topics, I felt as though she were reciting memorized facts and anecdotes. She spoke a lot about wine -- as she'd just turned twenty-one and she was very firmly on the side of sweet red wine! I had to add my cautionary mom remarks. I just couldn't help myself, though she didn't seem to be a lush in the making, so I let it drop. Her opinions aside, she would sit straighter and almost recite what seemed to be the inventory of the local wine shop, and she could quote by-the-glass prices at restaurants I'd never heard of in neighboring states I was surprised to learn she visited.
During the course of the evening, she more or less maintained this detached, unemotional state, though there were times when I cracked subtle jokes and laughed, amused with myself (I'm very easily amused). Once I began laughing, she did, too. And in doing so, her eyes crinkled, her face took on a rosy glow, and she laughed with me. For a few minutes after, in speech and in mannerisms, she was like any other twenty-one year old girl. She came out of herself. She seemed normal in every way. My heart swelled, as if I'd done something. As if I'd reached her.
And then, sometimes slowly, sometimes very abruptly, she slipped back into the monotone voice and the herky jerky motions, little girl in the business dress and the unfamiliar make-up. I have to say, I endeavored, once I saw the effect, to make her laugh. I think, in those few minutes scattered throughout the evening, I felt normal along with her.
Till later...
I have to admit, I was a little disappointed. I was to do the four p.m. to seven p.m. shift alone, and I really didn't expect a mad rush. I had homework to catch up on, but as the chair of said honors society, I couldn't put my nose in my book and ignore my volunteers. So, I tried making conversation with her, tentatively. It took some doing! Her answers were monotone, and seldom did she look in my eyes when she spoke. Finally, and I don't quite remember how, the conversation came around to her condition. That's what she called it. I felt if she brought it up, I could ask some gentle questions. She very candidly told me that she was autistic. High functioning, obviously, but autistic. With this news, I admit, I began to study her as well as converse with her. Autism is so much in the news these days with statistics putting the rate at anywhere from 1 in 500 to 1 in 150 births, and I had not knowingly spent any significant time with someone afflicted. Now, I had my chance.
I noticed several things, and as my laptop battery winds down, I'll try to describe them the best I can.
First, she seemed to be not at all shy. As a matter of fact, I noticed that she was sitting with a group of students today on campus. Guys, as a matter of fact. She seemed quiet, but quite comfortable. As well, she showed up to help with the charity event, and in our talk together, she told me about other events where she just dove right in.
Another thing that struck me was her recall of names, first and last. I'm terrible with names, and it impresses me when anyone, especially in a large student population, can keep people straight. I have six other students serving with me on the honors society board, and I still have to pause to think of their last names. This young woman seemed to know everyone! (I suspected she'd done some research, too -- she knew their majors, their academic advisors, the towns in which they lived! All information available through the campus directory and the postings in the advising center, but still!) She could tell me what our vice-chair was wearing that day and which building he was exiting at what time and in what direction he was heading -- and I don't know that she'd ever had a conversation or a class with him.
She also seemed to have a very strong sense of "sides." She told me that she does deal with a fair amount of teasing in her weight room job. She's dealing with jocks, mainly guys, and anyone, especially someone with a disability, would probably get a hard time from them. She could tell me who was on her side and who was against her. This theme, over and over, came up, when she was talking about faculty, playmates, her little sister. There were very sharp divides. I wondered -- was I on her side? Perhaps I should have asked. I found it curious, especially after recently going through a mediation with two students and not affording to or interested in taking sides, only in helping them to make peace. This young woman shared with me that she wants to be a psychologist. I'll muse on that some more later.
We talked about a lot of different things in the five hours we were together. She had something to say about most everything that came up, but the odd thing was that in her responses on general topics, I felt as though she were reciting memorized facts and anecdotes. She spoke a lot about wine -- as she'd just turned twenty-one and she was very firmly on the side of sweet red wine! I had to add my cautionary mom remarks. I just couldn't help myself, though she didn't seem to be a lush in the making, so I let it drop. Her opinions aside, she would sit straighter and almost recite what seemed to be the inventory of the local wine shop, and she could quote by-the-glass prices at restaurants I'd never heard of in neighboring states I was surprised to learn she visited.
During the course of the evening, she more or less maintained this detached, unemotional state, though there were times when I cracked subtle jokes and laughed, amused with myself (I'm very easily amused). Once I began laughing, she did, too. And in doing so, her eyes crinkled, her face took on a rosy glow, and she laughed with me. For a few minutes after, in speech and in mannerisms, she was like any other twenty-one year old girl. She came out of herself. She seemed normal in every way. My heart swelled, as if I'd done something. As if I'd reached her.
And then, sometimes slowly, sometimes very abruptly, she slipped back into the monotone voice and the herky jerky motions, little girl in the business dress and the unfamiliar make-up. I have to say, I endeavored, once I saw the effect, to make her laugh. I think, in those few minutes scattered throughout the evening, I felt normal along with her.
Till later...
Comments
You are a good writer. Your Words create images that flow without difficulty.
Your Friend, Shawn
Yes, I was spammed. There's a man who enjoys thrashing any faith or method of recovery other than his own by attacking those different from him in some very cruel and crude ways. But, it's okay -- as once his god has accepted his allegiance, all his actions are righteous. To each his own, but not on my blog!
I'd love to continue the conversation we began after you read this post. I've been in a self-induced (non-chemical) coma lately...
I'm sorry you were spammed. It's sad when people have to try and project their own misery in other arenas. I understand having a strong faith in your own methods, but in what way is attacking someone else's beliefs and being cruel really going to change their mind. It sounds like a delusional self serving ego game, and I hope that person doesn't bother you anymore. Can you block people from blogger?