[embedyt]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wdK1JF5DAU8[/embedyt]
Marquel was quietly reading the New York Times The Kids Who Beat Autismhttp://nyti.ms/1zypbdQ. New research suggests that one in 10 autistic children sheds symptoms before adulthood. But no one knows why they do — or why others do not.
Marquel knew. He thought others knew too but it was too politically incorrect to voice it. When Marquel was a boy, autistic people didn’t exist. Neither did ADHD. There were only retarded people. There has been a huge rise in these categories, leaving the poor simply retarded behind. Nobody ever spoke of the retarded getting unretarded, but Marquel wondered whether the new labels allowed that to happen.
But Marquel certainly knew why one in ten of the autistic somehow “outgrow” their autism. To confirm this, a process emphasized in all journalism schools, where Marquel never attended, he’d have to speak to the experts. He went to Downtown Medical School where they do this research. One of the directors agreed to discuss the phenomenon.
“I understand one in ten autistics outgrow it by adulthood.” I said.
“That’s true,” he said.
“How autistic are they to start with?” I asked.
“If you’re thinking that it’s only the mild cases that respond, the facts don’t support it. We have severely autistic children who become normal.”
“What does normal mean?” I wondered.
“Functional. Occupy a position in society and support themselves.” He said.
“I guess you can’t give me any names or anything,” I said.
“Certainly not, but I could ask a few if they mind talking to you.”
“Meanwhile could you describe these outcomes in general terms?” I asked.
“In what way?” He asked.
“For instance what kind of jobs do they hold down?” I asked.
“Sure,” he said. He went to a file and pulled out some folders. “Here we have someone who was very uncommunicative, severe mathematical disabilities, and frequently unable to make correct decisions. He’s an executive and earns six figures. No family though. A real success story.”
“What kind of executive?” I asked.
“Mortgage banker,” he said, looking up at me.”
“Makes sense,” I said.
“I guess so.” He agreed idly, continuing, “Here we have a woman gainfully employed. Only half of what that man makes, severely autistic and anti-social. Now works at an insurance company handling claims.”
“No doubt denying most of them and laughing all the way home.” I observed.
“I treated this woman. I remember her laughing just as you say after biting someone.”
“Any others?” I questioned.
“Well this is interesting. I have a politician here and I know I have two more of them,” he said, shuffling through the folders. “Yes here they are. Three ended up in political office. All three moderately to severely autistic. Anti social with severe moral deficiencies and very very low on the empathy scale. Successful now. A real success story for us.”
“Maybe not for the rest of us.” I commented.
He laughed and said, “I know what you’re thinking. I’ve learned to compartmentalize.” He said.
“What about the others?” I asked, “they can’t all be executives and politicians.”
“Of course not,” he said, “we have quite a number in the armed services and an equal number as health aides in municipal hospitals.”
“What else as groups?” I asked.
“Well the only others who fall into groups seem to be 311 operators and school administrators.”
“I’d really like it if I could get to speak to a few.” I said.
“I’ll try but you have to remember,” he said, “that a major part of their disability was low social interaction. That might still be an obstacle.”
We said good bye and I went home with plenty to think of.
Is it that we have jobs these days that fit autism’s characteristics? Or are they really “cured?” Does being in the army mean you’re normal? Or a 311 operator ready, no happy, to put you on hold all night? Isn’t being a mortgage banker the very definition of sociopath? Or is that politicians I’m confusing them with?
I didn’t know what to make of it all especially when I was put in touch with one patient willing to talk to me.
“What can you tell me?” I asked the back of his head. He carefully avoided any eye contact. But he was cured. And angry.
“I think,” he said, “that it is the height of arrogance to try to change autistic people. It’s as bad as trying to change gay people.”
“Are you serious?” I asked.
“You should let people be what they are and not change them.” He asserted.
“Even if they’re unable to make eye contact for their whole lives?” I said to the back of his head.
He flapped his hands back and forth and said, “Absolutely. You should leave us alone.”
“I find it hard to compare gayness and autism.”
He turned his back on me but then he realized now we were making eye contact so he turned around again, flapping all the way. He said, “I find it a natural comparison. Especially in my work,”
“Which is?” I asked.
“Child psychologist,” he answered.
“Well I find that commendable,” I said, “but apparently you don’t.”
“I was happier when I was autistic,” he insisted.
“You could always go back, ” I said.
“How?” He asked.
I don’t really know,” I said lamely, “I was just sort of making,conversation. But if you tried to go back, I’d say you’re already halfway there.”
“And halfway not,” he said.
“And halfway not,” I said, feeling a bit retarded myself. I showed him to the door which wasn’t all that easy, and hoped he’d face forward when he hit the first stairway. Cured? I couldn’t say Interesting? Far better than my two interviews with Hillary Clinton.
***
BY MARQUEL:
Why do I keep coming back for more? You’re insanely funny. I guess that’s the answer.
you said it. He makes us cringe and we ask for more.
OUch!
oh god, Marquel.
Liked Autistic Licence for the title. “Retarded people?” We had retards.