Uncategorized – dis/lit 20

Saunders Final Exam

Emily Saunders

Foss

ENGL384-02

Word Count: 1126

I pledge. –Emily Saunders

Rhetoricity: The Voice of Autism

Consider this: human beings have a fascination with language, with communication, and use it in every action that they take. Words are prescribed to objects, people, abstract concepts, animals, relationships, et cetera, and they are used to convey endless messages across endless modes of communication. There are very few (if any) ways in which human beings do not exist and communicate at the same time. In particular, voice (both literal and metaphorical) is often taken for granted as essential to the human experience, but what happens when that voice doesn’t conform to the standards set forth by the masses? What if your communication looks different? What if your language doesn’t match the one prescribed to you? Autism is frequently treated and discussed in ways that disregard the personhood, and therefore voice, of people with autism, despite their rich, albeit different, experiences with language.

A close look at Melanie Yergeau’s Introduction to her book, Authoring Autism, and Ralph James Savarese’s essay “Toward Postcolonial Neurology: Autism, Tito Mukhopadhyay, and a New Geo-poetics of the Body” shows an intense focus on the ways in which language and autism interact. Though they take two differing approaches to the subject—Savarese focusing primarily on the experiences and words of Tito Mukhopadhyay, and Yergeau focusing on (non)rhetoricity—both works critically engage with the topic, arguing against common conceptions and prejudices.

Yergeau spends much of her introduction discussing her idea of rhetoricity—what it is, how it’s used, and the politics of being able to participate in it. She writes, “It is not uncommon. . . for rhetoricians to claim that rhetoric is what makes one human. . . [its] precondition for humanness or personhood is typically and deeply connected to how we conceive sociality, or our modes of relating and relatedness with our (neurotypically human) surrounds” (Authoring Autism 6). By this, she means that rhetoric—or the meaning-making system by which we as social animals live—governs both our society as well as how we as individuals relate to it. This is a pretty straightforward concept but becomes twisted when brought into atypical contexts. Consider how, for example, characters representing a minority are portrayed on television. Black men are the funny guy, the athlete, the criminal, and generally angry. Black women are “crazy”, hypersexual, matriarchs, and welfare queens. Members of the LGBT community are flamboyant, dramatic, caricatures, and often victims of violence. The disabled . . . well, the disabled are hardly visible to begin with. All of these tropes are rhetorical tools used to define and confine minority groups in order for the majority (straight, cis-gendered white folk) to maintain power and control.

In the case of disability studies—and more specifically autism—this can be not only degrading but dehumanizing, which Yergeau goes on to explore in her introduction as well. People with autism are often framed as being nonrhetorical (Authoring Autism 5). But, if rhetoric is what makes us human, as we discussed earlier, then what does that mean for the autistic? Do they not compose stories, interact with the rhetoric-laden world around them, and communicate? Scholarly literature would have you believe, as Yergeau points out, that “In all things discursive, autism represents decided lack” (Authoring Autism 7). The disability, according to this literature, inhibits the autistic from being able to meaningfully interact with and produce rhetoric, despite copious evidence of the opposite. The difference is, well, difference. Autistic rhetoric may look, sound, and/or feel different than that produced and consumed by neurotypical folk. However, this preconceived idea that rhetoric—and therefore humanity—must mimic one specific kind is what keeps autistic rhetoric from being integrated into modern literature and scholarship. There’s no effort to include and explore the rhetoricity of the autistic, and that is what ultimately keeps them from being able to establish their own voice.

What, then, does autistic rhetoric look like? How exactly does an autistic person produce and consume it? Ralph James Savarese takes an interesting stance on the subject, entering the conversation through discussion of “severely” autistic author Tito Mukhopadhyay (Savarese 5). Savarese is quick to point out Mukhopadhyay’s use of language and how it starkly undermines the current conception of people with autism as being nonrhetorical, including a staggering number of quotes from the young author’s works. Mukhopadhyay writes, at only eight years old, “One day I dream that we can grow in a matured society where nobody would be ‘normal or abnormal’ but just human beings, accepting any other human being—ready to grow together” (The Mind Tree 90). By including this particular quote, as well as emphasizing the age at which Mukhopadhyay wrote it, Savarese effectively challenges the idea of nonrhetorical people with autism. The young author clearly has a voice, has rhetoric to be shared, has a way of consuming rhetoric and translating it into something he understands, and that is an important thing to notice.

On top of the words themselves, Savarese takes time to discuss the physicality of Mukhopadhyay’s language, and how the difference in the author’s proprioception (“a sensory modality that can be defined as an awareness of one’s body in space” [10]) informs his rhetoric. The purposeful manipulation of voice in his book, The Mind Tree, sometimes in first person and sometimes in the third, speaks to the disconnect felt by the author between his personhood and his body (Savarese 10). Throughout the essay, Savarese’s purpose is to highlight and underscore the unique and rich way in which Mukhopadhyay uses his voice in his book. Of course, the young author is but one person, and one voice among many that deserve to be heard.

The important thing to remember is that rhetoric—language, relations, consumption, production—is not limited to one kind of format. Similar to how different languages express similar idea, or how there are different genres of writing, of poetry, of music and media, the language of autism isn’t somehow less than that of a person without it. It’s just different. Yergeau and Savarese both attempt to point this out in their own ways throughout their works, as have many other scholars as the disability studies scholarship expands over time. One tackled the concept of rhetoricity head on, emphasizing its importance and the significance of excluding an entire group of people from it. The other delves into the specific language of one autistic author in particular, exploring the difference in special relation to that of a neurotypical person and challenging the conception that people with autism—especially those who are nonverbal—are somehow incapable of meaningfully relating to and producing language. Both of them work together and individually to break down the harmful stereotypes and de-humanization of people with autism in order to allow them to establish their own voice in its stead.

Works Cited

Mukhopadhyay, Tito. The Mind Tree. New York: Arcade, 2003.

Savarese, Ralph James. “Toward a Postcolonial Neurology: Autism, Tito Mukhopadhyay, and a New Geo-poetics of the Body.” 2010.

Yergeau, Melanie. “Introduction: Involution.” Authoring Autism, Duke University Press, 2017, pp. 1–34.

Final Exam

Kaitlin Bailey

Dr. Foss

ENGL 384-01

April 29, 2020

Final Exam Prompt 1: The Toxicity in Not Abandoning Expectations

As I was reading Jim Sinclair’s “Don’t Mourn for Us,” I couldn’t help but wonder why there is so much grief and mourning happening in families after the diagnosis of a child with autism, and I realized the grief stems from the expectations parents have of their autistic child that they cannot ever possibly meet. Sinclair addressed this article primarily to his parents as a declaration of his own experience, and the blunt tone and vulnerability exhibited in debunking the myths and improper attitudes that parents often have towards their autistic children is powerful. In this essay, I will use Sinclair’s article to explore how families are in fact not grieving their child’s disability, but they are grieving the loss of the dream of a “normal” child that they can no longer have. Sinclair’s article is divided into three sections, with three separate myths that he debunks throughout. These three myths are that autism is not an appendage, autism is not an impenetrable wall, and autism is not death. I want to place emphasis on the first two sections.

Sinclair invites readers to “look at our autism, and look at your grief, from our perspective,” that being the perspective of a person with autism. There is already a certain amount of grief associated with the diagnosis of any child’s disability, but unfortunately more often than not with parents of children with autism, it stems from the loss of the idealized child they have fantasized about. That being the continued source of grief causes damage and hinders the development of an authentic relationship between a parent and their child (Sinclair). Treating an autistic child like a burden to their family only reinforces negative and discriminatory stereotypes of disabled children not being equal to or as desirable as able-bodied children and is nothing but harmful. It is the punishment of a child for something that they have never, and will never, have control of.

Beginning in the first section, Sinclair expresses that autism is not something that a person has, or a “shell” that a person is trapped inside (Sinclair). It is unfair to look at a child with autism and assume that their autism is just a layer of their personal identity that can be removed and disposed of and mourning the diagnosis of a child’s autism is a parent simply mourning their child’s entire being. Sinclair expresses, from his perspective, that when an autistic child hears that their parent wishes they did not have autism, they hear that their parent wishes they do not exist and that is a valid point to be made. That is what the child hears every time a parent prays for a cure, because they know no other way to exist. Loving a child with autism means understanding that their autism is included in every action, thought, emotion, encounter, and relationship that they will ever have (Sinclair). To do otherwise proves to the child that they are unworthy of receiving the same love that a “normal” child receives.

A vital aspect of creating an authentic relationship with an autistic child is to come to terms with the fact that when you are feeling like the child does not see you or is unable to respond, it is simply untrue. Just as Sinclair narrates, autism is not an impenetrable wall. This error lies in the idea that the child is incapable of relating at all. In reality, it is just that your shared understanding of signals and their meanings are not shared by the child in the same way that it would be difficult to communicate with someone who speaks a completely different language (Sinclair). I know that the lack of validation from their child is difficult to understand as a parent. It is not easy to put previously conceived ideas of communication aside to develop a new way to communicate and receive validation, but it is not impossible. It is painful to desire a relationship and feel rejected, but often the child is the one being ostracized for being unable to communicate when communication relies on the effort of two people. The non-disabled parent is equally responsible for the lack of validation they are receiving that they are desiring from their child.

To fully communicate, one must give up the feeling of certainty that comes from being on your own familiar territory of language and be open to letting the child teach you their way of communicating and expressing language, and let them “guide you into their world.” And the outcome, if achieved, is still not going to be a “normal” parent-child relationship (Sinclair). That expectation simply needs to be fully abandoned in order to be emotionally available to the child. It ultimately just comes down to the truth that the ways of communication in a non-disabled person and an autistic person are just different, and without that understanding autistic people are being blamed for the close-mindedness of non-disabled people and their relationships can result in unnecessary resentment for reasons that were never their fault to begin with.

In conclusion, pitying autism and feeling sorry for an autistic child will never allow for a healthy relationship to be built. The relationships that feel like there is something missing in them are one-sided and a direct result of the expectations placed upon the child that can never possibly be met. That is where the greatest disappointments in the relationship comes from, not the child’s autism. Sinclair provides insightful advice and guidance from a first-person perspective for developing those authentic and healthy relationships, while also sharing what common misconceptions to ignore throughout that process. I found his words to be indisputably true; autism is not a tragedy. By mourning the loss of the “normal” child that never was, you are disregarding the existence of the child that is right in front you; a child deserving of the same opportunities to develop relationships.

Works Cited

Sinclair, Jim. “Don’t Mourn for Us.” Our Voice, vol. 1, no. 3, 1993.

I pledge that all work is my own.

Word count: 1031

The Right Way to be Autistic (Final Exam)

As I was reading Ari Ne’eman’s piece on the conflicting narratives of Neurotypical and Autistic individuals, I was reminded of research I did on the book The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night Time, specifically in regards to the author Mike Haddon’s writing process, and how he actually did very little research when creating the character of Christopher Francis Boone. At the time of my digging into the book’s history, I was impressed by Haddon’s stance that he felt he did not need to perform in-depth research because the autism spectrum is so broad and vast that there is no singular set of requirements for an autistic individual to have, and the critical response to the book led me to believe this was a valid stance to hold. However, after reading Ne’eman’s piece, I have come to wonder if this was truly the best course of action for him. In this essay, I will use Haddon’s Curious Incident to discuss the merits of autistic consultation in media and why I believe that the story of Christopher Boone is one of the better depictions of autism, despite the ways in which it could have benefited from an insider perspective during the writing process.

Christopher Francis Boone is, in no uncertain terms, a savant; in many ways, he is a stereotype of autism, gifted in math, a personality built around the logical world which falters and fizzles out when faced with emotional spontaneity and anything he cannot reason his way through. To Ne’eman, this in and of itself might be a piece of damning evidence in condemning Curious Incident alongside other stories about autism written by neurotypical individuals, and I sought out critique of the book written by individuals on the autism spectrum, in search of a more personal view point. In researching this, I came across a blog post by Nomi Kaim, an autistic individual, which focused on her reaction to the character of Christopher. One of the first things she brought up was the ways in which Christopher is a textbook example of an autistic individual;

“Many of Christopher’s character traits fit the textbook definition of autism. He has profound difficulty communicating and interacting with people, including overly literal interpretation of language; difficulty interpreting gestures and facial expressions; and an inability to take other people’s perspectives. His speech is excessively formal, and he is incapable of social spontaneity or reciprocity. He constantly misses the big picture, or context, of what is going on. He fixates on a few themes he cannot let go of, rocks or groans when overwhelmed, and is hypersensitive to sound, smell, and touch.” (Kaim)

However, she spends just as much if not more time talking about the depths of Christopher’s character, and the ways in which he breaks the mold pushed so often by neurotypical authors. She relates to his confusion born from vague terms like “keep off the grass”, his love of animals, and the way he uses logic and reasoning to make his way through an emotional world. Yes, this is only one kind of autism, but it is a portrayal of autism that resonates with real individuals. One thing that Curious Incident succeeds in, which I think Ne’eman would agree with, is the way that those around Christopher interact with him. One of the key goals of autistic self-advocates is to the push for “both support and acceptance throughout society” (Ne’eman). This is, I feel, one of Curious Incident’s most noteworthy triumphs. Christopher’s parents, Ed and Judy, both strive to support Christopher to the best of their abilities, within realistic limitations; Ed cooks the simple meals that fit within Christopher’s particular palette, while Judy does her best to understand Christopher without allowing her own neurodivergent traits to get in the way. Judy in particular was an interesting character to me because of how far from the stereotype of a “refrigerator mother” she is.

If anything, she cares far too much, without any outlet for the ways in which she cares. Christopher, like many autistic individuals, rejects her offers of physical affection, and lashes out when she tries to touch him without consent, yet as the book progresses she makes strides in learning about Christopher and his boundaries so that she can be the best parent she is capable of being for him.

When Ne’eman talked about those who “define disability not according to its effect on individuals with disabilities, but on the basis of how it is perceived by those around them”, I was prepared to reread Curious Incident with a critical eye, remembering a good deal of time spent on how Christopher’s parents reacted to his unique sense of self, but found that their reactions to him were often background noise compared to the way the book focused so heavily on Christopher’s life and the way autism effected it. It left me wondering how Haddon had managed to write a story that seemed to succeed in its depiction of an autistic character when he didn’t even go into it with the intention of writing one. For the most part, I agree with Ne’eman’s assertion that it is the author’s moral obligation to consult autistic individuals whenever they seek to represent autism in the literary space, yet somehow Haddon created a character that resonated with many and disturbed very few, without having done so.

I am led to believe the aspect of this book which aids the most in its success in depicting an autistic character is the fact that it is told from a first-person perspective. There is never as large a focus on any aspect of the world as there is on Christopher and his perspective of it. He is the most important character, and the book frequently asserts his competence and independence, while balancing this out with his limitations, such as the times in which he is overstimulated by loud noises and foreign environments. These limitations, however, never hinder Christopher so much that he cannot accomplish his goals, which goes a long way in establishing Curious Incident as one of the more positive representations of autistic characters.

Ne’eman spends a large portion of time in his Dueling Narratives essay discussing who has the power to control the narrative surrounding autism; that is to say, whose voice is most prominent, neurotypical individuals speaking for autistic individuals, or those autistic individuals themselves. Curious Incident is a strange case in that it does not truly fall into either of these categories; though the story is told from the perspective of an individual on the autism spectrum, can it truly be considered a story with an autistic voice when it was written by a neurotypical individual? One argument I make in defense of Curious Incident is based around the following quote, also used in Dueling Narratives:

“The tragedy is not that we’re here, but that your world has no place for us to be. How can it be otherwise, as long as our own parents are still grieving over having brought us into the world?” –Jim Sinclair, Our Voices

Haddon may not be an autistic individual, and he performed the minimal amount of research in writing one, and I find this to be a fault of the book, in that Christopher is still a savant, a child so talented in mathematics that he goes on to take college levels classes as a middle schooler. However, in much the same way Ed and Judy Boone desperately try to create a place for their child to be accepted in the world, Haddon is like a third parent to Christopher, crafting a realistic literary world that is not built for him, but making sure that he is strong enough to attempt to carve out a place for himself in spite of this. The book would have benefitted from an autistic perspective in the writer’s room, and this is not a statement I consider subjective; there is always room for improvement.

However, Haddon deserves at least a portion of the applause he has received for creating a character who is far more than the few stereotypes he fits into. I agree with Ne’eman, that for the most part autistic perspective is a requirement in the creation of autistic characters, and Christopher as a character could only have benefitted from this. Curious Incident’s success is in spite of the minimal research done, not because of it, and this is a fact that I stand by.

I would love to hear any thoughts Ari Ne’eman has on Curious Incident. It would be fascinating, I think.

Word Count: 1427

Richard’s Final Exam Paper on Autism-Prompt #3

Richard Yeomans

Dr. Foss.

English 384-Section 01.

April 27, 2020

Word Count: 1225

Final Exam Essay: Prompt #3

In our society today, there is the beginnings of understanding for Autism and those who have been diagnosed on the Autism Spectrum. While we continue to see much misunderstanding within society at large, including those who fear Autism and parents who wish to blame their child’s diagnosis on an outside source such as vaccines, others chose to see the individual as a person instead of looking at them through a label from the spectrum. During the Great Depression of the 1930s, many states, including Virginia, utilized Eugenics programs as a means of punishing those whom the state saw as inferior genetically to the average person. In John Steinbeck’s Of Mice and Men, we see hints of the character Lennie having traits which lend him to be on the Autism Spectrum, and how society viewed him as a menace because of his intellectual challenges. George would get frustrated with Lennie at times throughout, only to then see that Lennie was keeping what George taught him to heart. Yet it reflects how both historically and in the modern day, there is still much which needs to be done to raise awareness and end the negative views towards those who have been diagnosed on the Autism Spectrum.

While the novella remains a popular story for many students throughout the country, there are those who identify with Lennie and his personality. Throughout the story, he is treated as a subhuman character by others, including George at times who treats him as a mere child and not an adult. One such example near the start of the story was when George discovered that Lennie had “rescued” a dead mouse and was keeping it in his pocket as a pet. When George had thrown it away a second time, he then heard Lennie begin to cry at the thought of no longer having the mouse. George talked down to Lennie by then saying “Blubberin’ like a baby! Jesus Christ! A big guy like you” (Steinbeck 9). Indeed, Steinbeck had even dehumanized Lennie at the very beginning, comparing Lennie to a bear when he described Lennie’s dragging of his feet while walking as “the way a bear drags his paws” (Steinbeck 2).

Because Steinbeck frequently describes Lennie by his appearance throughout the novella, the reader risks developing, or ratifying, notions that Lennie is not normal. This in turn risks a subconscious determination of seeing others in a negative light based solely upon their differences to what society considers a normal human being. During the Great Depression, the reader also would have been confused about how George and Lennie were even together, as the common practice of families back in that period was to send people with disabilities to an institution. But importantly, though George at times is harsh in his attitude towards Lennie, he does care about Lennie and wishes to prove society wrong about Lennie. Though he told Lennie to be quiet, it was likely due to George knowing that is Lennie had spoken upon arrival, the ranch would have sent them away out of fear and the labels of society towards people like Lennie. George, however, wishes to prove the ranch owner, and society in general, that Lennie is just as capable of hard work, or perhaps even more capable, than the average ‘normal’ person. While Lennie is a hardworking individual on the ranch, George must guide him throughout and remind Lennie of his tasks to avoid getting fired. Lennie in turn looks at George with trust and relies upon George to help him in his daily activities and decisions.

There are several aspects to Lennie’s behavior which lends credence to the idea that his condition falls upon the autism spectrum. He is frequently seeking out the repetitive behavior throughout the story of wishing to pet soft items, which can also be thought of as self-stimulating (Murray 14). As previously noted, he is introduced to the reader with a dead mouse in his pocket which he pets frequently ass he and George are walking along towards the ranch, with George then throwing the mouse away across the river, only for Lennie to walked across and recover the dead mouse whilst fetching wood for a campfire. When George then throws the mouse away for a second time, Lennie argues that it is a comfort for him, He tells George that he “wasn’t doing anything bad with it… Jus’ strokin’ it,” which is our first view into the repetitive and comforting behavior which Lennie seeks out (Steinbeck 9). The reader is then informed by George that Lennie had destroyed a stuffed toy mouse which had been previously given to him. This behavior is reinforced by Lennie being too hard on his petting and stroking of puppies, with another character on the ranch named Slim having suggested that Lennie take a break from petting the puppies, with Lennie explaining to George that Slim told him he “better not pet them pups so much for a while” (Steinbeck 54). To which Lennie eventually kills one f the pups by being too aggressive in his petting.

Lennie continues his desire to seek out and pet soft objects when he comes across Curley’s wife and starts petting and stroking her hair. Unfortunately, when he is told to stop by her, Lennie becomes anxious and fears that she will tell George about his forcibly petting her hair against her wishes, and that George will punish him by not allowing him to pet the rabbits on their future plot of land. He acts out in a panic and ends up killing her, which then causes the realization that George is not going to be happy with Lennie and will punish him.

In Stuart Murray’s book Autism, he notes that autism “isn’t in illness” and that that fact is “sometimes lost in the labeling of the condition as a ‘disease’” (Murray 36-37). He goes on to then explain that even in the modern society, people tend to fear and misunderstand autism due to the fear of the unknown. Though our understanding has improved, there are many parents and general members of society to this day who fear autism as a disease, and are wary of those who have been diagnosed on the higher end of the autism spectrum, while certain other parents feel self-blame in their child being autistic (Murray 59).

In closing, though we as a society have made great strides with the arrival of advocacy groups intent on educating the greater public and families about autism, in the hopes of a wider acceptance of people as being equal and normal with those who are not on the autism spectrum, especially when compared to the 1930s when individuals were simply hidden from society under the guise of being “feeble-minded,” we have a long way to go unfortunately in obtaining full acceptance and equal equity to all Americans whether on the spectrum or not. Though George did work hard to try and bridge the gap between Lennie and the other workers and the owner of the ranch, he did achieve some successes along the way before the end of the story, notably with Lennie being allowed to continue working instead of being sent off upon noticing that he wasn’t “normal” in the eyes of society. And continued work will be needed to ensure full integration and acceptance going forward.

I pledge…

-Richard Yeomans.

Works cited

Murray, Stuart. Autism. Leeds: Routledge, 2012.

Steinbeck, John. Of Mice andd Men. Penguin Books, 1937.

Kate Seltzer final

In Emily Perl Kingsley’s 1987 essay “Welcome to Holland” – which has since been widely disseminated to new parents of children with disabilities – she describes her experience raising a child with disabilities as extensively planning for a trip to Italy, boarding the plane to Italy, and then being surprised and not a little disappointed when the pilot announces that instead they have landed in Holland. “So you must go out and buy new guide books,” Perl Kingsley writes. “And you must learn a whole new language. And you will meet a whole new group of people you would never have met… and you begin to notice that Holland has windmills….and Holland has tulips. Holland even has Rembrandts” (Perl Kingsley, “Welcome to Holland”).

As a sibling of someone with autism, “Welcome to Holland” initially really resonated with me. Since discovering it, I have wrestled with whether the essay is a valuable contribution to disability studies or if it comes off as condescending and dismissive of what it means to be disabled. (The essay is undeniably centered around the able-bodied or able-minded parent’s perspective, which is its intent, and parts of it read sort of as describing disability as being “differently abled,” though it never uses that term.) However, after reading Alison Kafer’s introduction to her book Feminist, Queer, Crip and Jim Sinclair’s essay “Don’t Mourn for Us,” I am persuaded that “Welcome to Holland” has value, even if it is far from perfect. In addition to being two of my favorite pieces we read over the course of the semester, this paper will argue that Sinclair’s essay is an excellent practical application of Kafer’s “political/relational” model to autism.

To understand how “Don’t Mourn for Us” fits within the framework of a political/ relational model, it is essential to understand what precisely Kafer is arguing. First, Kafer calls for, as many disability scholars before and since her writing have done, a movement away from the traditional medical model of disability. Under the medical model, disability should be approached solely through a clinical lens, and the goal is to treat the condition rather than mitigating the social circumstances that constrict disabled lives (Kafer 5). Although Kafer acknowledges that this method is flawed and outdated, she does not go as far as the social model of disability, which states that disability is not a product of a medical condition, but rather social attitudes, norms, and physical structures. “As much joy as I find in communities of disabled people, and as much as I value my experiences as a disabled person, I am not interested in becoming more disabled than I already am,” Kafer wrote. “Nor am I opposed to prenatal care and public health initiatives aimed at preventing illness and impairment, and futures in which the majority of people continue to lack access to such basic needs are not futures I want” (Kafer 4). With this understanding in mind, Kafer argues that “recognizing illness and disability as a part of what makes us human” is essential, while she avoids a complete rejection of the medical model.

Under Kafer’s political/relational model, “the problem of disability is solved not through medical intervention or surgical normalization but through social change and political transformation” (Kafer 5).

Sinclair also indirectly advocates for an understanding of autism beyond the medical model. Autism, he says, is not an appendage; instead, it is inherently a part of the person. He discourages parents (and policymakers, etc.,) from seeking a cure: “Therefore, when parents say, I wish my child did not have autism, what they’re really saying is, I wish the autistic child I have did not exist, and I had a different (non-autistic) child instead,” Sinclair writes. “This is what we hear when you mourn over our existence. This is what we hear when you pray for a cure” (Sinclair, “Don’t Mourn for Us”). Here, he makes the case that Kafer made, pertaining to disability generally, specifically to autism: autism is not a “problem” that should be treated through the medical lens. However, he argues that parents should be angry about the political and social conditions that make having autism more difficult than it otherwise should be: “Better than being sad about it, though, get mad about it – and then do something about it. The tragedy is not that we’re here, but that your world has no place for us to be” (Sinclair, “Don’t Mourn for Us”).

Part of what I love about both pieces is that they don’t pretend that having a disability is sunshine and rainbows all the time. Both Kafer and Sinclair allow for – and Perl Kingsley gets at – is the mourning for changed expectations. As part of her political/relational model, Kafer writes “I want to make room for people to acknowledge – even mourn – a change in form or function while also acknowledging that such changes cannot be understood apart from the context in which they occur” (Kafer 6). Kafer says that it is okay for disabled people to feel real loss as a direct result of their impairment, while acknowledging that the impairment is made much more difficult in daily life because of social and political norms that permit discrimination and inaccessibility. Sinclair also creates space for this period of mourning, saying that “much of the grieving parents do is over the non-occurrence of the expected relationship with an expected normal child. This grief is very real, and it needs to be expected and worked through so people can get on with their lives – but it has nothing to do with autism” (Sinclair, “Don’t Mourn for Us”). Again, Sinclair’s understanding of autism permits sadness as a result of shattered expectations, but like Kafer, he removes the burden of bearing that grief from the disabled person.

Kafer’s introduction to Feminist, Queer, Crip provides for an important framework within disability studies. The political/relational model strikes a solid middle ground between the outdated medical model and the social model, which too often fails to acknowledge some of the pain inherent in disability that goes beyond failing to meet societal expectations. Because Sinclair so eloquently rejects the medical model while asking parents to learn the language of autism and to work to improve a world hostile to people with autism, his essay fits solidly within that framework as a practical application of the political/relational model to autism specifically. Both writers allow disabled people and families of disabled people to mourn what they’ve lost without letting that grief consume them. As it turns out, “Welcome to Holland” may have been right after all.

I pledge – Kate Seltzer

Word count: 1102

Works Cited

Kafer, Alison. Feminist, Queer, Crip. “Introduction.” Indiana University Press, 2013. JSTOR,

www.jstor.org/stable/j.ctt16gz79x. Accessed 28 Apr. 2020.

Perl Kingsley, Emily. “Welcome To Holland.” Emily Perl Kingsley, 1987, www.emilyperl

kingsley.com/welcome-to-holland.

Sincllair, Jim. “Don’t Mourn for Us.” ANI, Autism Network International Newsletter, 1993,

www.autreat.com/dont_mourn.html.

Alicia’s Final Exam

Alicia Frueh

English 384/ Foss

Final Exam

April 28, 2020

A diagnosis of severe or “low- functioning” Autism can oftentimes be accompanied by the inability or limited ability to communicate vocally, thus necessitating those with a diagnosis to communicate by other means. Tito Rajarshi Mukhopadhyay’s poem “Misfit” is a perfect illustration of how someone can be given a silent, yet powerful voice. Mukhopadhyay is a non-verbal autistic who, despite his communication barrier and atypical physical behaviours, is able to illustrate through this poem that he feels no less natural than the world he observes around himself.

“There was the earth, turning and turning.

The stars receded, as if

Finding no wrong with anything.”

It is no accident that Mukhopadhyay should choose this particular structure (Villanelle) in his poem as it seems to format perfectly his perception of the universe and it’s anticipated, or natural, rotation. This beautiful imagery invites readers to experience the daybreak with Mukhopadhyay as he stands witness to the neverending rotation of our planet, spinning night into day. The first two lines of the tercet bear testament to the incontestable truth that the world never ceases to turn, regardless of who or what is watching. The last line of the first tercet offers readers a bit of calming reassurance in that the star’s trajectory is, “Finding no wrong with anything.” (Mukhopadhyay) This line sets the tone for the remainder of the poem in that Mukhopadhyay acknowledges the natural order of the world around him and feels aligned to it.

“Birds flew by all morning-

The sky lit

From the earth’s turning and turning.”

In the second tercet Mukhopadhyay makes it apparent that he has watched the day evolve from dusk until mid to late morning and it is likely that it is not his first time in doing so. With the foreknowledge that Mukhopadhyay has a diagnosis of Autism, his repetition of the words “turning and turning” may give readers the visualization of a person literally spinning, or “stimming,” which is a common or stereotypic, self-stimulatory behavior for many autistics. One might speculate at this point that Mukhopadhyay is mimicking the natural conduct of the world around him or perhaps, at least where he draws inspiration for his whimsical motions.

“My hands, as usual, were flapping.

The birds knew I was Autistic;

They found no wrong with anything.”

This third tercet is where we really begin to perceive Mukhopadhyay’s behavior to be more than just self-stimulatory, but rather as a reenactment of what he sees taking place in his natural environment. He flaps his hands to the rhythm of the birds around him and states undoubtedly, they know him to be Autistic. This isn’t to be taken literal, because after all, how could a bird understand Autism? Rather, Mukhopadhyay finds solace in that the birds refrain from judging his odd or atypical behaviours. In fact, he may feel more like these birds than he does his fellow man. Regardless of the motivation for his flapping or turning, it is clear that Mukhopadhyay recognizes that birds and stars find “no wrong with anything.” They do not question his existence, nor he theirs. In her book, “The Way I See It,” Dr. Temple Grandin recounts her memories of meeting Mukhopadhyay when he was still a teenager. She remembers his mother, Soma, explaining, “How flapping calmed him down and made him happy. If he had been allowed to do it all day he would have never learned anything. Small amounts of ‘stimming’ were allowed so he could calm down.” (Grandin p. 161) We can suppose now that Mukhopadhyay uses his flapping as a means to find release from any sensory overload or societal exclusion he may feel.

“Men and women stared at my nodding;

They labeled me a Misfit

(A misfit turning and turning).”

Once more, Mukhopadhyay gives visualization to another of his stereotypic behaviours; nodding. He admits that he is labeled as a “misfit” by those who pass by and we can presume that he is often uncomfortably perceived as “odd,” “misplaced,” or even “bad.” A brief history of Mukhopadhyay’s early life can perhaps shed some light on this label. Mukhopadhyay was born and raised in India until his thirteenth year of life. In India he was denied formal education at several separate institutions. His Mother, Soma, is recognized as his main source of advocacy and education. Her life’s work as a chemist was set aside to spend the majority of her time working with Mukhopadhyay, teaching him and helping him develop his artistic proficiency. Despite the fact that he is considered now to be a borderline genius as well as a literary master, Mukhopadhyay has said, “I have Autism and learning with typical mammals will not work for me.” (Mukhopadhyay) His need for a particular learning structure, as well as time to turn and turn about may have left him feeling like a misfit, or one that just doesn’t “fit” into societal standards.

“And then I was the wind, blowing.

Did anyone see my trick?

I found no wrong with anything.”

In the final tercet of the poem Mukhopadhyay states that he has become the blowing wind. This line reinforces the central idea that he is capable of speaking the language of the Earth. Autistic people often feel out of place when in the midst of mainstream or “neuro-typical” society. Just because someone can not verbalize their thoughts does not mean they do not have anything meaningful to say. If one could slow down their pace and listen to the language of the world around them they may find that the world itself has quite a lot to say. Perhaps Mukhopadhyay has discovered that the quietness on his lips has provided him with another sense that most people are not equipped with, or at least do not utilize so often. Outside in the wind, turning and turning, Mukhopadhyay “finds no wrong with anything.” This line is repeated throughout the poem (in true villanelle style) and continually reinforces the initial concept that Mukhopadhyay feels “right” in his way of being when able to communicate within his natural element. The metaphorical trick he performs is achieving internal harmony with no judgement or condition, whilst “becoming the wind.”

“Somewhere a wish was rising,

Perhaps from between my laughing lips.

Why stop turning and turning

When right can be found with everything?”

In the closing quatrain, Mukhopadhyay begins to laugh and makes a wish. While we cannot know what his wish yearns for, we can rest assured that his turning and turning is allowing him the inner peace he needs to feel safe and happy in this particular moment. His movements clearly provide him with a zen-like mindset or the “reset” that all people necessitate in some frequency or another, so that “right can be found with everything.”

Dr. Oliver Sacks, Professor of Neurology at the NYU School of Medicine said, “It has usually been assumed that deeply Autistic people are scarcely capable of introspection or deep thought, let alone of poetic or metaphor leaps of the imagination.. Tito (Mukhopadhyay) gives the lie to all of these assumptions and forces us to reconsider the condition of the deeply autistic.” (Sacks) Mukhopadhyay’s “Misfit” reveals undeniable confirmation that although all voices are not expressed or received in the same manner they are no less compelling or impassioned.

I Pledge, Alicia Frueh

1255 Words

Works Cited

Mukhopadhyay, Tito Rajarshi. “Misfit.” 2010.

Grandin, Dr. Temple. The Way I See It: a Personal Look at Autism & Aspergers. Future

Horizons Inc., 2015.

Adam’s Final Paper

Adam Cooper

Dr. Foss

Disability Lit

26 April 2020

A Different Approach at Parenting

Jim Sinclair’s Don’t Mourn For Us outlines the perception a new parent may have upon finding out their child is autistic. In three sections it highlights the struggles parents may have with understanding the disability and how it affects the relationship they’ll have with their child. I found this to be my favorite piece in the autism unit mainly because it seems like it would be impactful to a large demographic of people. In some cases the way a child’s disability, in this case autism, is handled can actually make the effects of the disability much worse than they would be otherwise for both the parent and the child. To be a good parent to a child with a disability it is essential to not allow any grief you feel to ruin the relationship with the child, understand in certain cases it is not a curable ailment, and to learn to listen. As Sinclair explains this may mean no matter what you do the relationship will not be the normal one you had imagined but that’s not to say it won’t be a beautiful relationship regardless. This piece does a wonderful job of outlining the negative effects a parent can unintentionally have on a child with any disability, not just autism and can be related to other disabilities we’ve studied throughout the semester. In order to properly care for someone with a disability it is essential to not try to divide the disability from the person but rather to adjust the style of care given to them to better accommodate them. The big issue is trying to make the child fit into a mold the parent has created instead of changing the parenting style to fit the child. The issue becomes more about the parent and child and in trying to comfort themselves a parent may do harm to their child they are unaware of.

Sinclair recognizes that grief, in the case of a parent learning their child will have a disability such as autism, can be traumatic. But the issue comes when the trauma the parent experiences overshadows the disability itself. Caring for those with disabilities requires the caretaker to devote their time to the disabled person, not to dealing with their own feelings about disability. A distant example we see of something like this is from early in the semester when we read Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. If we compare Victor to the parent and The Creation to the child it becomes a pretty clear example. Victor wanted a beautiful being and had imagined that whole heartedly. When The Creation was not what he had imagined he went into a state of grief completely neglecting the creation and letting it slip further away from him without care. The Creation genuinely just wanted to be loved and cared for but Victors own grief prevented that. Obviously I’m not insinuating that those with autism or other disabilities are “creatures” or “monster-like” but the parent-child relationship is present here along with the neglect that can be found alongside a grieving parent.

The first section titled Autism is not an appendage discusses the idea a parent may have that there’s another child within the “shell” of autism. A child that can fulfill all the dreams the parent had for them. This is problematic as attempting to uncover a person within will amount to nothing. I think a large misperception of all disabilities is that there’s a normal person within the disability who’s been caught by it. So instead of starting to understand who that person is with the disability we make their lives harder by trying to break them out of a mold we’ve imagined them being in. Take for example someone born with only one leg, you wouldn’t try to cure this as it’s clearly visible there is no “cure” and a real leg will never grow there. So you change the style of care you had envisioned giving the child. According to Sinclair, this problem is present in the relationship between parent and child when navigating autism. Sinclair says “It is not possible to separate the autism from the person–and if it were possible, the person you’d have left would not be the same person you started with.” (Sinclair) This is a clear example of how parents attempting to “free” their child from autism would create a rift in the relationship. Spending all the energy you have attempting to create a new child as opposed to parenting the one you have will never lead to a new child, rather one who is neglected and may suffer from the side effects from autism worse than they would have otherwise.

Communication is huge in any relationship, especially between a child and parent. However for someone with autism, communication can be extremely difficult. This means it’s the parent’s job to accommodate this and in turn help nurture a relationship and do their part in helping their child be the best they can be. A huge part of what we can do to help anyone with a disability is to merely listen. Far too often those with disabilities are drowned out by the hustle of everyday life and it leaves them without the assistance they need. Even in everyday life it’s easy for us to not hear what someone with any disability is saying. We go about our day to day lives not considering things from their point of view, not out of intentional rudeness but due to lack of education. For someone with autism they may not be able to flatout say what they feel in a way that a parent can hear and understand without education and changing the way they parent. Sinclar says “Each of us who does learn to talk to you, each of us who manages to function at all in your society, each of us who manages to reach out and make a connection with you, is operating in alien territory, making contact with alien beings.” (Sinclair) I think the same may apply to any individual struggling with any disability. To talk and not be heard is without a doubt extremely discouraging. Functioning in a society built for those without disability is hard enough, not being heard makes it harder.

Sinclair’s work goes a long way in humanizing those with disabilities, especially autism. Far too often we see children and adults alike who have disabilities as missing something. And in some cases this makes us grieve for them rather than care for them. In a parent child relationship this can have even more significant effects. Near the end of his passage Sinclair says “The tragedy is not that we’re here, but that your world has no place for us to be. How can it be otherwise, as long as our own parents are still grieving over having brought us into the world?” (Sinclair) This speaks not only about a parent and child struggling to build a relationship around a disability but also about everyone who lives around us with any disability in a world built for everyone else. There is no easy path for any parent and I’m sure I can’t comprehend what parenting is like but I think Sinclair’s work helps start to paint a more clear picture of what a parent can do to help their child and what we can do to help those around us.

Words: 1,230

I pledge – AMC

Sinclair, Jim. “Don’t Mourn For Us” Autism Network International newsletter, Our Voice, Volume 1, Number 3, 1993.

Jess’ Final

Step Aside Neurotypicals: Analyzing the Autistic Narrative

Ari Ne’eman, founder of the Autistic Self-Advocacy Network, critiques the academic ableism within autism studies with his paper “Dueling Narratives: Neurotypical and Autistic Perspectives about the Autism Spectrum.” Ne’eman admits that his writing is more biased than scholarly, but argues that there is a lack of real representation of autism in academic writing and research. Ne’eman states his purpose is: “to provide new information and analysis to the academic community that will help build a better understanding of an important and growing issue: the autism spectrum, how to define it, what it entails and what to do about its growing visibility in the world today . . . an insider perspective should be welcome” which successfully supports Ne’emans reasoning for the importance of his own lived experience. As an autistic individual and prominent self-advocate, Ne’eman’s voice is important to acknowledge. Ne’eman cites a lack of autistic perspective within studies as another reason for his paper to show “the biases inherent in the . . . image of the autism spectrum, as defined by family members of autistic children and medical professionals, and explain how these biases have negatively impacted both parents and people on the spectrum;” thus, the reasoning for Ne’eman’s title of dueling narratives in reference to the autism spectrum. Ne’eman’s paper demonstrates how neurotypical dictatorship of perspectives on autism are damaging to autistic individuals and their families.

The medical spectrum of autism is very wide. A diagnosis of autism can vary in form from Asperger’s Syndrome to Nonverbal Learning Disability. With such a wide range of diagnoses within the label of autism, it is hard to really narrow down a concrete definition. Autism advocacy is also very politicized with neurotypicals like Jon Shestack, founder of Cure Autism Now, declaring war on autism, and searching for a cure as if autism is cancer to society (Ne’eman). The war on autism gained political traction when the bill “Combating Autism Act” passed in the House with a $1 billion dollar research budget to find a cure for autism. These public acts reinforce the damaging narrative that autism is a disease. Theories that mothers cause autism by acting cold towards their children can autism also circulated. This places the blame of a genetic condition from birth upon the parents of any neurodiverse child.

Treating an autism diagnosis as a negative enforces the fallacy of the missing self. Ne’eman defines the fallacy as an: “overarching message of most portrayals of the autism spectrum and the people on it reflect a tragedy that robs humanity, leaving behind something –someone – that must, implicitly, be sub-human,” meaning that people who are autistic are unable to possess a sense of self. The fallacy of the missing self dehumanizes people who are autistic by making autistic individuals appear as soulless creatures. Ne’eman quotes Shestack again with: “this is the special curse of autism. You have your child, and yet you don’t have him. You have a shell, a ghost of all the dreams and hopes you ever had.” Shestack and his organization present autism as an evil force that steals away the true child. This kind of impaired thinking from the neurotypical narrative pressurizes educators, parents, and professionals to believe that autistic individuals are never capable of independence – which hinders autistic people in their strive for individual freedom.

The fallacy of the missing self continues to fail autistic people who are nonverbal. Ne’eman references an autistic woman who runs her own website called “Getting the Truth Out,” to share her narrative as a neurodiverse individual. The site contains a photograph of the woman wearing a shirt that reads: “not being able to speak is not the same as having nothing to say.” According to Ne’eman, “Getting the Truth Out” serves as “a condemnation of the simplistic and inaccurate view of autistics as voiceless tragedies.” The woman who runs the site does not share a message of despair, but rather of the normalcy of the life she lives.

In order to enact real change, Ne’eman calls upon the autistic community to “continue to condemn language and advertising that implicitly endorses eugenics.” The condemnation of organizations like Cure Autism Now will reveal the truth behind the harmful neurotypical ideologies. On the other hand, Ne’eman does acknowledge that autism advocates have been trying to spread the effects of cure rhetoric upon the autistic community. The way to improve this tactic is to “advance a positive image of the autism spectrum” by showing the strengths of a non-neurotypical diagnosis to the public. Ne’eman calls upon the autistic community to present a clear definition of autism to the neurotypical narrative so that individuals who are autistic can be understood by society as a whole. It is frustrating to admit that the neurotypical community cannot understand autism without a clear-cut definition – especially since autism can present itself vastly different from person to person.

The major roadblock for advancement is the clash between the narrative of the autistic community and the neurotypical script. Ne’eman writes: “The autistic community recognizes the grieving process that parents go through after receiving their children’s diagnoses and learn that the life of an autistic individual can be very different from what parents expected for their child.” However, that grieving process cannot last for the child’s entire life, or else the autistic child will grow up believing the fallacy of the missing self. Parents, educators, and the rest of society need to reject the neurotypical narrative that has dominated the meaning of an autism diagnosis for too long. Ne’eman’s evidence of the damaging effects of organizations like Autism Speaks, Cure Autism Now, and legislation such as the “Combating Autism Act” show how the neurotypical narrative can rip away autonomy from autistic individuals. Ne’eman also cites the need for more supports for families and individuals with disabilities; “by improving special education and funding for transition and adult supports, we can reduce the perceived and actual difficulties on families. On the whole, it is clear that the neurotypical community needs to step aside to allow the autistic community to share and explore their narrative.

Word Count = 1024

I hereby pledge upon my word of honor that I have neither given nor received unauthorized help on this work – JML

Works Cited

Ne’eman, Ari. “Dueling Narratives: Neurotypical and Autistic Perspectives About the Autism Spectrum.” The Society for Critical Exchange , 2007, case.edu/affil/sce/Texts_2007/Ne’eman.html.

Madison’s Final

The History of Autism: A Shaky Foundation

To understand something in the present, it helps to look at its roots. The cultural ideas and stigmas that are held today are at least somewhat a product of history. Historically, autism has been a mystery and today there is still much we do not know about how it functions or where it comes from. However, when research first began to circulate surrounding autism, much of that information was inaccurate and ultimately harmed future understandings of autism, repercussions we are still feeling today despite advancements. The history of autism research can be seen as the driving force behind the apprehension parents have surrounding communicating with and building a relationship with their autistic child. As a result of early acclaimed researchers pointing a finger at the parents of autistic children to blame them for the condition, there has since been a culture which fears raising the autistic child and pushes for a ‘cure’ to end a presumed suffering.

Psychologists Leo Kanner and Bruno Bettelheim’s widely regarded ideas have laid the foundation for a problematic understanding of how autism functions and where it comes from. Up until the 1960’s, Kanner asserted the belief that parents are responsible for their child’s autism. Kanner once said in an interview that autistic children were a product of, “parents cold and rational who just happened to defrost long enough to produce a child” (Murray, 54). He believed that the parents of autistic children were cold and distant, thus producing similar traits in the form of their autistic child. Bettleheim held a similar viewpoint, asserting that autistic children “withdraw from the world” as a product of parents who are unable to bond with their child, and that often development was stunted in autistic children due to the parents’ own “inadequacies” (Murray 56-57). Given autism was largely unstudied and therefore not understood, Bettleheim and his work were regarded highly by the public and his opinions were taken as fact (Murray). The blame that was placed on parents by these researchers has heavily influenced the way parents today understand autism, and consequently, the apprehension they feel about building a relationship with their autistic child.

The responsibility placed on parents for causing their child’s autism coupled with the idea that a child is ‘trapped’ within their autism lead parents to push for the cure. The fact alone that blame or responsibility was placed at all reinforces that autism is not a positive presence, as if someone must be punished for its existence. And according to Kanner and Bettleheim, the blame lied with the parents. It is natural for parents to want to fix things for their child, to rid them of any suffering. Since there are inherent ideas of pain and suffering tied to disability and difference, including autism, parents have a tendency to focus on how they can end that suffering and return their child to normal. Murray writes, “For some, accepting that they were to blame was a price worth paying if it meant that their child could be ‘rescued’ from autism” (Murray, 58).The idea held that with therapy, the “lost” child could be “brought back” (Murray, 57). Of course this belief is harmful and inaccurate, as there is no “normal” child trapped within the autism, however the popularity of that notion leads parents to feel urgent about curing their child’s autism rather than trying to understand it as an inseparable piece of their identity.

The history of autism and the belief in the cure have made it easier for parents to focus their energy on who their child isn’t rather than who he/she is. Autism, much like other neurodiverse perspectives, is seen for its deficits first and foremost. Nonverbal and atypical communication is rarely seen positively, but rather as though something is lacking from the individual. This expectation of normalcy hinders parents amongst others from trying to understand autistic communication and build a relationship with the autistic child. Writers and advocates such as Jim Sinclair are helping to rewrite this history and alter the way we understand the autistic child. First, it is especially important that parents understand the inseparability of autism from the autistic child. Jim Sinclair importantly notes in Don’t Mourn For Us, “when parents say, I wish my child did not have autism, what they’re really saying is, I wish the autistic child I have did not exist, and I had a different (non-autistic) child instead” (Sinclair, 1993). Although these parents might not understand the implication behind their words, it does not change the fact that they are implying they would rather have a ‘normal’ child than try to understand and relate to their autistic son or daughter. Furthermore, it is important that parents are willing to forgo their own expectations of ‘normalcy’ in order to venture into their autistic child’s territory. He notes, “You’re going to have to give up the certainty that comes of being on your own familiar territory, of knowing you’re in charge, and let your child teach you a little of her language, guide you a little way into his world” (Sinclair,1993).

It is impossible to completely rewrite the history that is responsible for inaccurate information and ideas about autism, but we can learn to put what we think we know aside and step into the autistic perspective. Historically, parents have been blamed for what was presumed as a condition that caused their child to suffer and lack normal social and communication skills. There is no question that this past has been a catalyst for the apprehension parents still hold today about connecting and communicating with their autistic child. The belief in the normal child being ‘trapped’ and the cure have made it possible for parents to focus attention on autism as a deficit rather than a benefit. However, with more insight into the autistic perspective as shared by those on the spectrum such as Jim Sinclair, parents may be able to take agency and find the courage to meet their child where they are at. As noted, difference is not an “impenetrable wall” (Sinclair,1993), but communication can happen and relationships are more than possible.

Works Cited:

Murray, S. (2012). Autism (The Routledge series integrating science and culture). New York: Routledge.

Sinclair, J. Don’t Mourn For Us. Autism Network International newsletter, Our Voice, Volume 1, Number 3, 199.

word count: 1020

I pledge, Madison Moyer.

Tori Percherke’s Take-Home Final on Jim Sinclair’s “Don’t Mourn For Us”

Don’t Mourn For Us

In the literary text, “Don’t Mourn For Us”, is based on the perspective of somebody with autism, Jim Sinclair. Sinclair’s idea for this essay was to broadcast feelings to non-austic’s about the idea of a “normal child”. Reading this essay, I came to the conclusion that those who choose to have children, should be thankful for the child they bring into this world. If they aren’t, they weren’t made to be parents in the first place. Parents should not create expectations for their unborn baby, or feel at loss over what is real. Autism is a real, and beautiful thing.

Sinclair states in the beginning of this essay, that according to “non-autistic” people, autism is the “most traumatic thing to ever happen” to parents (1). However, parents who create all these expectations in their minds, is the real traumatic thing here. Although bonding and creating that relationship with your child will be different than most, it’s the parent’s job to form ways to bond with their kid instead of resentment. In the text, Sinclair responds to this sort of frustration by saying, “the child isn’t incapable of relating at all. It only means [the parent is] assuming a shared system, a shared understanding of signals and meanings, that the child in fact does not share” (1). Just like treating those with autism like somebody who speaks a different language, there are ways to communicate and relate. Parents just have to be open-minded to forming those different ways. If the parent is successful, and is patient with their son or daughter, the reality of their child getting a drivers licence or moving away to college is very likely. But, parents can not push their process with the child. It isn’t the job of the child to be a certain way for other people. And if the parent has a mindset of bitterness, anger, and negativity toward a child, it can create resentment against the parent. At the end of the day, a child is only a child. The kid cannot control what they were born with, let alone, what makes them, them! “Autism is a way of being” (1). Autism is different, and has too many negative connotations for this world: ignorance, disrespect, and the willingness to learn more about it. Instead of grieving about autism, express and explore the world in which autism gives. By providing that information toward the child, the child will learn how to be proud and happy of who they are! It’s understandable to be stressed, as there are always new things to be anxious about. But, if a parent feels as if they cannot hide those doubts, and significant emotions toward their child, they were not fit to be parents in the beginning. A parent is kind, and accepting toward their baby.

So, what does it mean to be a parent?: A parent takes care of their child physically and emotionally, a parent provides, a parent protects and keeps the child safe from harm, a parent loves, a parent teaches and helps their child when in need, and a parent is the role-model to their child (2). The definition of a parent is more than just giving birth and the passing of genes. It’s a role that the world has given them, and the world should expect the parent to treat their child or any child, with love and respect. Sinclair says that “[autistic children] need and deserve families who can see us and value us for ourselves, not families whose vision of us is obscured by the ghosts of children who never lived. Grieve if you must, for your own lost dreams. But don’t mourn for us. We are alive. We are real. And we’re here waiting for you” (1). The child in which has autism will help guide the parent in any confusion they might have. But, it’s the parent’s job to get connected in a community that supports autism. In order to help maintain a connection with an autistic child, the parent must learn to embrace the culture their child and family is involved in. Embrace the differences that the world has given!

In Sinclair’s final paragraphs, he tells the readers to “learn to let go” (1). Which is such a peaceful statement but also, a command. Having autism isn’t the same as losing a child. Because your child is alive, and real. The idea of having a normal child never existed. Having autism is what makes up a child to be unique and different from the rest. If those differences within a parent’s kid isn’t uplifted, how does a parent expect their kid to live a happy life? Or feel as if they can be loved by the world, if their own parents can’t? Sinclair shares that, “[Those with autism] need you. We need your help and your understanding. Your world is not very open to us, and we won’t make it without your strong support. Yes, there is tragedy that comes with autism: not because of what we are, but because of the things that happen to us. Be sad about that” (1). If parents need to rant about their emotions toward autism, there are support groups for that. The groups are meant to embrace what has happened, and what won’t change. Enrolling into support groups, and counseling will only benefit relationships with those of autism. Having a child that is on the spectrum, is more than a diagnosis, it’s an “adventure of a lifetime.” The parent’s duty is to be as involved as they possibly can, and to also love what they brought into the universe.

To conclude this analysis, I believe that after reading, “Don’t Mourn For Us”, parents who feel negatively toward their autistic child are in no place of being a parent at all. Parent’s are supposed to accept the child that they brought into this world, and treat them with the love and respect they deserve. I also believe that people should know what it means to be a parent before conceiving a baby. And finally, if a parent has an autistic child, it’s the families’ job to make sure that that culture is embraced and celebrated. Those with autism, unfortunately experience those families too often that aren’t loved equally as other children. The world needs to create a brighter and more positive connotation than the one it has today. If somebody wants to be a parent, they need to be thankful, and embraceful for the child they get. As Sinclair says, “Don’t mourn for us. Autism is alive, and real” (1).

“I hereby declare upon my word of honor that I have neither given nor received unauthorized help on this work.”

X Tori Percherke

Word Count: 1089

Work Cited:

(1) Sinclair, Jim. “DON’T MOURN FOR US.” Don’t Mourn For Us, www.autreat.com/dont_mourn.html.

(2) “What Does It Mean to Be a Parent: Gerber Life Insurance Blog.” Gerber Life Insurance Parenting Blog, 16 Jan. 2019, www.gerberlife.com/blog/what-it-means-to-be-a-parent/.

“What Is Autism?” Autism Society, www.autism-society.org/what-is/.