On Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, I
attend an entry level communication class at my college. From a very early
level, we learn about how people view themselves, the world, and each other. It
is a truly engaging and eye-opening experience. One day, the professor asked
us, "How is physical contact important? Why is it a need for people?"
My answer took some people by surprise, and very few if any truly empathized
with it.
I have always been different. From as
early as kindergarten, I have seen the world in unique and truly different
ways. Why? I have a high-functioning form of Autism called Asperger's Syndrome.
As many as one in twenty children is diagnosed with Autism today, but only one
out of 100 of those have Asperger's.
Asperger's syndrome is a medical condition
characterized in part by social ineptitude, high intelligence, and a love to be
close to people but an inability to initiate contact. We are often seen as
eccentric and awkward, shying away from conversation and physical contact.
Children with the condition will often "latch on-to" a topic, such as
the facts about an airline or the Titanic, and become veritable experts on it.
We can have exceptional but unusual memories, and may possess an advanced
innate understanding of music, people, or mathematics. Some high-functioning
autistic individuals can perform complex mathematics in a second, and some can
tell a person their exact birth-date, down to the year, month, and day. We
often cannot read facial expressions, or truly understand how people feel.
Some of these symptoms are common, others
rare, and there is no way to contain all that a person is in an article, even
if it were only this condition that defined him. Universally, we are built with
a hunger for justice. But above all else, we need love, and we need it more
consciously than those without the condition, always needing desperately to
gain the approval and acceptance of others.
While some of these characteristics may
seem useful, even extraordinary, many "Aspies" would gladly trade any
and all of their unusual traits to be more normal. Why? Because we have trouble
with one of the most important aspects of the world around us: people. We know
how much we need love, can empathize with the pain of others, and see the
beauty of each human soul. But we are often unable to communicate with
others. Our ideas are nebulous, fluid and ecstatic. We cannot articulate to
others our thoughts without utterly misrepresenting them as lesser than they
actually are. We crave love and belonging, but on account of our difference,
cannot accept hugs or physical expressions of love easily. We need to be
understood, and to be loved.
A well-known individual with a high functioning form of autism (though not Asperger's)
is Temple Grandin. Temple developed a machine during her years in college that
gave hugs. Whenever she got stressed out, she would rush to the machine and
give herself a hug. She needed that, and those of us with Asperger's need it
too, but few of us are usually comfortable receiving them from people. To do so
shows us our vulnerability, and we are very sensitive to our own feelings. That
level of intimacy is extraordinarily difficult for us to enter in to.
At this point it is worth mentioning that
I personally have a very mild form of Asperger's. While the condition in
general is found in about one out of 2000, I am even less common. I can make
eye contact, enjoy speaking with other people, and love getting and giving
hugs. I am termed, "Atypical." But while I can accept hugs freely, I
have a hard time getting close to people, and am often uncomfortable in my own
skin. I feel that separation, that need to both be with and away from others.
When you are yourself, you are naked, exposed and totally visible to the
opinions and prejudice of others. I am the way I am in a large part because I
have learned to hide parts of myself behind another face. I shield my heart,
keeping my true feelings subdued, choosing to reveal my innermost thoughts to
only a select few. Without these faces, I would be no different.
When our professor asked us about physical
contact, I summarized my position as, "People don't get hugs enough."
And though this may be seen as simplistic, it is true to me. While I cannot get
close to people easily, I am vividly aware of how essential it is for us to be
loved, to be approved of, and to be wanted.
A movie with which many people are
familiar is "Edward Scissorhands." The character of Edward, in my
mind, is a near flawless embodiment of what is like to have Asperger's. We have
an imaginative view of the world, seek to please, and value love as highest. At
the climax of the movie, we have seen him rise from obscurity and
oddity, to renown and respect, and finally decline into a feared and
tortured human being. But there is something that truly carries the prime
motivation of Edward's efforts. Just as Kim is saying goodbye to Edward, she
holds him tightly, kisses him, and whispers in his ear, "I love you."
The expression in Edward's eyes in perfect.
It is evident that the greatest need, the most important sentiment, has just
been communicated, and he is satisfied; there is relief in his eyes. This is what defines us.
We are not the product of our imagination, of our intellect, of our affliction,
but of the love of others. We have an inside track on what each person needs,
because we are made aware of it through our tribulation.
We need others. We need to be loved. If
you have a child with Asperger’s, or are a brother or sister of someone who
does, please, stick with us, try to understand us, and try to view the world
through our eyes. Even if we can’t handle a hug or a kiss, even a pat on the
back, please make us know that we are loved. Just love us. Love all of us. That
is what we need most.
