An internet search reveals many resources, based on expertise and experience, for both spectrum dwellers and their families. I’ve found a number of researchers, doctors, psychiatrists who focus on autism, as well as parents and siblings of people with autism who have spoken or written about their experiences. And perhaps most of all, I appreciate the people who live their lives publicly riding the spectrum.
Where did my help come from? Like many others, my help came from my family. But not my parents. When I was growing up no information was available about children born on the high-functioning end of the spectrum. I was erratically school smart. And socially a constant and predictable embarrassment.
I talked too loud. I talked too much. I talked about weird things—like poetry or plays or Shakespeare. I failed Maths and Science but my essay on MacBeth (13 pages) was put in the reference section of the school library.
My parents found me an embarrassingly unmanageable conundrum. It was my daughter who first understood the role autism played in our lives.
Fortunately, today there are many resources available to families and autists alike.
There are parents who write books sharing their insights, like Ellen Notbohm, author of Ten Things Every Child with Autism Wishes You Knew.
Researchers like Chloe Silverman, author of Understanding Autism, Parents, Doctors, and the History of a Disorder, trace the significant influence of parental advocacy in adjustments to treatment approaches.
And people on the spectrum like Temple Grandin who have boldly lived as they were born to live—unabashedly honest and talented, and faced the world with their truths.
We can read John Elder Robison’s advice in Be Different, or learn about his experiences with transcranial magnetic stimulation in Switched On.
We can listen to Ted Talks by Temple Grandin about the positive aspects of the autistic brain, or hear Kate Kahle and Ethan Lisi relate that autism is a difference, not a disorder.
We can read shared stories by women about their relationships, parenting, and navigating the workplace in Spectrum Women, or watch a variety of filmic portrayals of non-neurotypical life on TV.
These shared experiences open the possibility for self-acceptance and personal growth. It’s a feast. An intellectual and experiential banquet. And we are all invited.
Margaret Jean 