Neurodivergent Diversions: A Column about Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD)
by James Coulter
Earlier in April, not only did I have the opportunity to return to Florida to cover the Rockin on the Chain Benefiting Special Needs fundraiser, but I also had the privilege of giving a small speech discussing my life and career as a person with Autism. The following is a transcript of that speech.
Hey, everyone! J.C. here in the flesh.
As you all just heard, I am a person with Autism. And as a person with Autism, one question I usually get is: “What is it like to have Autism?”
That’s a hard question for me to answer. Not because I don’t know what it’s like to have Autism, but because I don’t know what it’s like NOT to have it.
Asking someone like me what it’s like to have Autism is a lot like asking a person who was born blind what it’s like not being able to see, or a person born deaf what it’s like not to hear. That assumes they know what it’s like to see or hear, which they don’t.
After all, how can a person born with blindness know what sight is? Or a person born deaf know what sound is? Or a person born with Autism under what social intelligence is?
I may not know what life without Autism is like. But I do know what living life as an Autistic person is like. And if I had to sum it up in one word, it’s “awkward.”
The animated PBS show Arthur once made an excellent analogy for life as an Autistic person:
Imagine you crash landed on an alien planet. It looks like Earth, but there are a lot of differences.
For one, a lot of people seem to talk extremely loudly. And their eyes shine bright beams of light that force you to avert your gaze. And even though you speak the same language, you sometimes have a hard time understanding what they mean. And things that seem hilarious to you aren’t funny at all to them.
You wish the scientists on Earth had given you a guide book to this strange planet, but they forgot to pack one. So you have to try to learn things all on your own. Maybe there’s one thing in particular that captures your interest, and you study just that.
Hopefully, the people on the planet get to understand you a little better. And you might even learn to fit in, but you will always feel a little bit different.
That has been my life with Autism. I have lived in this world for nearly 40 years, and yet, even with everything I have learned, I still feel like I’m still getting a handle on living here. And even then, I still don’t feel like I’m totally in sync with everyone else.
I was diagnosed with Autism at age 11. But there were many times during my childhood that I knew something was different about me. My aversion to sudden loud noises. My inability to look anyone in the eyes. My rocking back and forth in my chair, zoning out when I should be paying attention. And me not understanding the clear instructions that adults would give me.
For the longest time, my Autism was a source of shame for me. Between my emotionally abusive mother telling me I used it as a crutch, and a physically abusive college roommate telling me he wished I didn’t have Autism, my diagnosis was something I kept to myself and God. I even stopped going to therapy and taking medication.
For the longest time, I was in denial of my Autism. But no more. Now that more and more neurodivergent people are becoming more open about being on the spectrum, so am I.
My life has not always been perfect. In fact, I would hardly say it’s been perfect at all. But I have accomplished a lot in that time. I graduated college with a degree in English and a minor in Journalism. I have been a freelance journalist for more than a decade. I won two awards for my feature articles. I pen regular columns for both Daily Ridge and Today and Tonight Magazine. I host and edit a bimonthly podcast. And, perhaps my proudest achievement, I self-published a novel and a series of novellas.
My Autism is not a source of shame for me. It is who I am. And if anyone has a problem with that, well, that should be a source of their shame.
