An Empathetic Post

Over the past couple of weeks I've received some comments that made me smile. Hello to everyone who reads this! I apologize for my lack of posting over the last three weeks. My reason for not posting more is that I've spent most of the month staying late at work writing IEPs*, doing initial evaluations/reevaluations, going to IEP meetings, and making sure all of my files are organized. Organizing my file drawer is calming but it's also time-consuming.

The theme of the day/post is empathy. To better acquaint yourself with the term, I would suggest reading this article from Psychology Today about the three types of empathy.

There is a myth that people with ASDs do not feel empathy. Those of us who are educated on the topic of autism know that this is not true, but the myth is still out there. People with ASDs can and do feel empathy. But we experience it differently than most people. Rachel Cohen-Rottenberg wrote a blog post last June about the three types of empathy and how she and other people with ASDs experience them: On the Matter of Empathy

Recently, one of my students tried to comfort a classmate who was in the midst of a meltdown. This student was saying things like "it's okay" and "don't worry" while attempting to give the classmate a hug. Both have autism. My student saw that this classmate was upset, and in turn, demonstrated both emotional and expressed empathy in much the same way that a typically developing child would toward a friend who had fallen down and scraped their knee. This is not an isolated experience, and this student is certainly not the exception.

Earlier this week, I asked a coworker if I had bothered her the day before with any of my group sessions (hey, I work with first graders and it was a rousing session full of awesome "th" sounds). I've learned that asking such a question is more socially acceptable in the work environment than saying "You're awfully quiet and you're frowning a lot, and it bothers me that you're acting different than normal. I don't want you to feel mad!" (it took quite a long time and some help from a therapist for me to learn how to ease around such topics). I was not able to watch this coworker and know that she was worried and concentrating really hard on something and lost in those thoughts. However, I could see that something was up and I had some concern. Again, perhaps not a "typical" empathetic response but certainly not a lack of empathy.

Also, since it's Autism Awareness Month, I've been using empathy as a way to educate school-age children about ASDs. I read a story called My Friend Has Autism to a class of first grade students and took the opportunity to ask them if they ever did some of the things that the narrator's friend does, like hating to be touched and not looking at people during conversations and wanting their toys to be organized perfectly. Every time I brought up one of the friend's quirks, hands were raised by kids, mostly neurotypical, who did or felt similarly. It was a simple story, but it created an opportunity for some of the students to feel some empathy toward others who behave differently.

*IEP = Individualized Education Program

Autism Seminars, and When Your Quirks Are/Aren't Disordered

I went to a seminar three weeks ago called The Puzzle of Autism. It was meant to make sure that everyone working in the state was "on the same page" as far as diagnostic criteria, symptoms/characteristics, and treatment/accommodations are concerned. It also brought up a good opportunity to talk about my Asperger's and how it affects/enhances my ability to do my job.

To be honest, I didn't really learn anything new about autism spectrum disorders. I know what the prevalence is, I know what the most common treatment programs are, and I know what kinds of accommodations can be made. I use them in the speech room every day. A fellow SLP at my table did bring up an interesting point, however, and that point is the line between disorder and condition. Conventional wisdom says that autism spectrum disorders are chronic, or lifelong. But do they truly remain to be disorders, or do they change status as we get better at dealing with the symptoms?

I would not call my Asperger's a "disorder" in the classical sense at this point in my life. I consider it to be more like a condition or a part of my personality. Does having Asperger's present challenges that I may not otherwise face? Absolutely. Does it hinder my career or personal development or ability to function? That's a trickier question. At this point in my life, it doesn't. In the past, it most definitely affected my ability to function. It has not gone away. There are all sorts of active thought processes in my brain when I'm having a conversation, from controlling the volume of my voice to watching for clues that my communication partner is or isn't listening. These are thought processes for which, even after years of therapy, I need to put forth effort. It is easier now than it was five years ago but it is not automatic, subconscious or easy. I'm just much better at it.

I'm curious to see what others' thoughts are on this matter.