I'm considering using this for college applications:
Of Hope, Velcro, and Autism
Dan Grover
When I mention my diagnosis of Asperger's to people, sometimes they don't believe me, thinking autistic disorders are more of a Rainman kind of thing. Sometimes they distance themselves from me, and sometimes they just assume a textbook definition. It's even more difficult, however, for most autistic people themselves to understand it.
When I was little, I was indeed much like that textbook definition. I couldn't socialize, I never made eye contact, I had many strong interests and obsessions, and I couldn't fasten buttons or tie my shoes, let alone do well in school. It wasn't until middle school that I was able to get some accommodations, and it wasn't until the last stretch of high school that I realized the last of those accommodations I desperately needed were ones I'd have to make for myself.
At some point early in high school, I grew self-conscious and tried to relate with those around me. But I sunk in my seat when I heard people laughing at something I didn't understand. I frequently broke down in the middle of classes unable to deal with the situation at hand. I cringed whenever I saw couples in the hallway. I could certainly handle the work -- the work was never the problem -- it was simply being there. The noises, the people, the crowded hallways, the random changes in routine! Halfway through my tenth grade year, on the verge of suicide, I stopped taking standard classes all together and did independent study high school courses.
I ended up thinking a lot over the next year. I co-founded an Asperger's community website for others like me (recently mentioned in several papers and TV shows). One thing led to another, and I ended up getting a job writing software for the Army Corps of Engineers, taking a course at Dartmouth, and running a Mac shareware business. For once, things seemed to be looking up. Removed from the school setting, I was able to learn better and become more secure in myself. I thought a lot that year about the world and my life, trying to pick out the things that really are from the things that merely happen-to-be. And when I thought about it, as far as I was concerned, school was crazy town, upside down world -- Backwards Land, in short!
But the time came when, faced with the realities of my situation, I realized I'd need to return to traditional high school in order to get full credit for my work and take advanced courses. I'd have to trade off some of my happiness and motivation for the appearance of being a good student. I was increasingly filled with dread as the days passed leading up to my return. I still hadn't accomplished the task of entering the school without feeling ill.
It wasn't until one summer evening in Maine that a final realization changed things for me. I had met up with an online friend (also with Asperger's), and after a grueling tour of Portland on foot, she came with us back to Wells for dinner. We decided to take a walk while my relatives made dinner.
"Dan, do you mind if I sorta do my own thing tonight?" she asked. I said I didn't. So I walked by myself for a while that evening on the dim seashore.
When I finally found her, she seemed to be dancing -- twirling randomly, jumping from rock to rock. I watched her for a while from afar, and somehow sight of this girl capering about the shore in the twilight made me think. I didn't know her too intimately, but I knew she was dealing with a lot of the same problems, and it occurred to me that maybe, to be happy, I'd need to do my own thing as well.
As it turns out, the rest of the world is a very diverse place that's constantly changing, but somehow there's only one way to think in school. When in Rome, do as the Romans do, but when in Backwards Land, sometimes it's best to just to try to go forward.
I've since learned about things like body language and seen enough of the challenges ahead of me to know I can handle them. I've got hope, and that's more than I ever could have imagined two years ago. I still haven't learned to tie shoelaces, but until then, thankfully there's velcro. Today, high school is still quite difficult, but with a couple strips to keep my shoes on my feet and a little hope to keep me happy, I think I'll do just fine.
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Dan Grover
co-founder of WrongPlanet.net