Why we do it

I have been criticized by only a few, but I have had to field some. Most criticism is anonymous and not meant to me specifically, but to parents who do an ABA approach. There has been specific comments made to me about repression. Well, if Zach ends up on a shrink's couch one day complainng that his mother made him play with therapists for 25 hours a week while all the other kids played by themselves likely in front of a TV - then I will gladly pay his $250 an hour (todays dollars) sessions. If he has the ability to complain about me and express himself - than I feel that my job has been done.

Damn those who decide it is their right to criticize parents for trying this is all I can say. First off - the soft fuzzy warm inviting methods did nothing for 9 months but left Zach (and the rest of the family) in tears. If they work for others - terrific. It was not working for us - 9 months was way too long.

So here is a little article I would like you to read as passed on to me by my terrific SIL Cindy. She knows how to encourage us and we really appreciate it.


From the Autism Speaks website:

In Their Own Words: I Beat Autism By Jason Ross Editor's note: The opinions
expressed herein are those of the author exclusively. The piece is unedited and
its original form, at the author's request.

Hi! I'm Jason Ross and I'm
16 now, and you'd probably just label me a normal teenage kid. I'm a junior at a great little private day school in CT and am involved in a ton of things: my sports - cross country, swim team and crew; Spanish Club, Model UN, school newspaper, jazz band, play writing and Spanish club. I hope to get my drivers license in January; I'm scared about the college process and SATs that start in the spring; and I like girls a lot, but not a girlfriend in sight.

So, all that seems pretty typical of me and my friends.But, I have a history that is different than all my friends, and I'm just beginning to get my head around what my life was like as a little kid. Apparently in July of 1995, when I was 3.5 I was diagnosed with Autism. I guess in some ways it was fortunate for me that I don't' remember a lot of it, let alone the panic that my parents tell me was going on when I was in the middle of it. Later on, sometime around when I was 12 or 13, my parents talked to me about autism, but I didn't really want to deal with it. I'm sorry to say that I guess I was too immature to want to talk about it, let alone do something for others.

Well, now I'm 16 and my best friend went on an Autism Walk. My Mom's best friend's son has autism. I read a lot and know there's a ton being done for Autism research, and to raise awareness. I read through Autism Speaks column on In Their Own Words, and I realized that there was a lot about the challenges of autism and some stories from parents who got their child through recovery. What I didn't see is stories from those of us who went through it. I just thought if I share with you my story that maybe others would have hope that they can also beat autism. Or let me be more precise, if I can share pieces of what I remember, and remind you that I'm on the other side, maybe that will be helpful to others. I hope so.

Memories of Autism:
I don't think I remember more or less than another kid trying to recall stuff from ages 3.5 – 5.5 but I have no frame of reference. I certainly don't remember what my parents describe as a house under siege; panic that I didn't speak, walk/run, nor connect with others like a normal toddler. I don't remember having speech and then losing it, or walking into parking lots because I didn't have any sense of space, and certainly don't remember not knowing who my Mom was! We have at least 20 notebooks detailing my life; I haven't looked at those in ages. Its like looking at someone else's life when I see them. But there's a few things that always linger with me and that is probably due to autism. I have a memory of feeling like I always had to work 10 times harder than anybody in order to get good grades. Now I know there are certain subjects only where I work much harder, like any subject where I have to apply principles to different concepts.

Memorizing the principles is a snap; applying them is hard – so applied physics and applied geometry means I have to work harder than anyone else just to get the B. The second thing is that I can be a 10 times more studious than my friends. I mean that when it comes to having to buckle down and study my brains out for finals, for me that's easy. My Mom thinks that's because I had to work so hard as a little kid with autism, where I apparently worked hours on end. The third thing is that I really love learn about almost anything and because I'm not afraid to experiment, amazing things happen. Friends call me a pure intellectual nerd, and I know they are just joking around. I have a theory that it started with my brain getting turned on during autism.

I recall a lot of great adults in my life; I really liked all of them. I didn't know I was special.

I did a lot at the kitchen table. I remember triangle pencils and mechanical pencils, sitting tall, learning to cut, write, and read. Reading was the BEST! Mom had these cute pencils in a triangle shape that we used when we were drawing or writing. Those were neat simply because they came in a bunch of colors. I didn't like the pencils we used later on – the point kept breaking and the pencil ripped my paper a lot - that was incredibly frustrating for me. I also remember we practiced my posture a lot, and Nancy Dyer would say “Jason, look at me... and things like Sit Tall, Sit Up. Sit Tall, Sit Up...” Scissors were a pain in the neck; I was a jerk at cutting but I guess I lot of boys are.

It never seemed like there was enough room in the holes where I put my fingers. Writing was ok I guess, and I have seen the cute notepads that they used. It has solid lines where I practiced upper case, and then a line in the middle where I'd stick the lower case of the same letter. And reading, I don't remember if I struggled or not. What I do remember is that in first grade I had the best best teacher Mrs. Shuhi, and by spring of first grade I reached a goal in her class.

To this day, I'm in love with reading and I remember being so proud of reaching
Mrs. Shuhi's goal. Mom had a bunch of expressions that I remember: On using utensils correctly, it was “Palms Up, Thumb Up”; on walking up and down stairs,
“Light feet. Light Feet”, and on going right and left it was done in the car with a funny clicker she had, “Right right, right right right... and Left left, left left left.”
Birthdays were always great. I remember my 4th birthday, where Princess Priscilla came to my house and I had a ton of kids over. It was great.
My nursery school was Little Brick; it was fabulous, I made friends there, and my nanny got a job there too!

Sports memories are fuzzy. I loved skiing always but throwing a ball and ball stuff in general never came easily. I didn't throw a ball like a boy does until I was at least 8. I finally made it to the major leagues in baseball and then called it quits. That was my equivalent of making it to the Olympics.

My Conclusion:The darkness of autism – all that therapy and disciplined training are from another world I don't remember too well. Yet, I know its part of me today. I can work very very hard, and spend hours practicing, reading or writing. A lot of this probably comes from my autism training. I know my Mom wanted me to enjoy learning for learning sake,and that's really who I am today. I'm sorry that Autism caused so much pain in my home, but I'm also a better person for it. I know I'm a lucky teenager with a future in something cool. I know if I work hard, good things happen. And I know that I can work 10x harder than others if that's necessary. Oh, and one more recent anecdote. I went to look at a college recently because I have to start thinking about what I want for colleges in my senior year. The person in
Admissions asked me what is one thing that I'd like to let her know. Because I was writing this, I said casually that I had autism as a kid. She said that couldn't be possible; no one beats Autism. I told her I did. She said - again - that I was mistaken. I said – again- that am one of a new generation that beat Autism. I was pretty upset; I know that I'm a lucky one and I better help get the word out. I beat Autism and I'm proud of it!!

I hope I have been helpful.