|
by Tina Mullins
My son is 20 years old, has graduated from college, and has a great job as a computer programmer. But long before the school or the professionals intervened, we were concerned about his development. He started showing symptoms of Asperger syndrome (AS) when he was 10 months old. His first diagnosis was Pervasive Developmental Disorder at age 3, then AS at age 13.
AS is a family problem. My son did not seek my affection or my attention. He was confused about the words or phrases I used, and because he couldn’t attach meaning to vocal inflection, he didn’t know whether I was angry or scared. He didn’t react to my reprimands and appeared to be defiant. He tended to over- or under-react to events in his life. He was often frustrated that we did not understand what he was trying to say. Everything triggered an explosion. It was like living in a war zone. We all had to adapt in order to have peace at home.
Eye gaze was a big issue. Since facial expression and body language were meaningless, my son viewed these as interfering noise when he was trying to understand someone’s message. The only way he could interpret his environment was through words. His behaviors needed to be described with words. Emotions needed to be ranked and matched to events. Facial features and hand gestures needed to be explained, and intonation and volume needed to be defined.
Literal thinking often got him into trouble, as he did exactly what he was told. Teachers didn’t grasp the limitations of his black and white thinking. “Turn your papers over to begin a test” (when repeated twice) meant to turn your papers over twice so that the words were face down. A four-minute timed test meant he needed to watch the clock 50% of the time, since the timing was just as important as answering the questions.
I volunteered for every possible field trip and classroom activity and spent many hours observing his behavior and that of those around him. If he did not understand a behavior or facial feature, I would explain it. If he reacted inappropriately, I would show him another approach.
Most importantly, I trusted my instincts and advocated on his behalf. When a recommendation was made that did not match my perceptions, I strongly presented my views and supported them with written documentation. At the end of high school, the staff told me that not only had I taught them how to help my son, but I also taught them to see signs of needed intervention for previously unidentified students.
Tina Mullins is ASHA’s director of audiology practice in health care. Contact her by e-mail at tmullins@asha.org.
|