Subscribe Via RSSKeep Forgetting Things? Work With Your Special Interests
In my earlier post about the things I carry around, I had keys on a dog keychain in the photo. That keychain was a gift from my friend Jennic, who has the most adorable toys in her shop at KangarooBoo!
I have an annoying habit of leaving my keys at home and locking myself out, so I tried putting the dog keychain with the keys. Have you noticed the keychain’s resemblance to my dog Molly? This is not an accident…my adoration of spotted dogs started when I was a toddler and read “The Poky Little Puppy” ad nauseum. So I thought that having a keychain that played into my interests would help me to remember my keys.
Sure enough, it helps a ton. Molly is the last thing I see before I leave home, which reminds me to take my mini-Molly so I’m never without a dog. Go ahead and laugh, but maybe you’ve never sat outside your home for hours while locked out.
What’s In Your Bag?
I really need to stop throwing things into my bag. I’ve discovered that crossbody bags (which hit at the hip instead of under the arm) are infinitely more comfortable than regular purses, so I’ve been carrying one around all summer. As you can see, my bag has become more of a trash bin.
I found:
- 55 cents
- 2 straw wrappers
- wallet
- sunglasses
- plant trimmers
- business card from the farmers market
- receipts for a cheesesteak, Dunkin Donuts, and migraine meds
- two sets of keys
- two lip glosses
What do you carry in your bag/briefcase/pocket?
What if I Had a Conversation Simulator?
As I was reading the New York Times over the weekend, I came across an application intended to simulate the experience of texting while driving. More accurately, I’d say they simulated the chaotic multitasking involved in texting and driving. Even though it wasn’t entirely realistic, it conveyed the message much better than words ever could…kind of like that picture of the smoker’s lung in my science book when I was a kid.
It made me think about how to simulate my experience of having a conversation. It might go something like this:
1. Listen to speech and type out each word as you hear it. At least half the words will be muffled so that you won’t be able to hear them. Many of the words will run together.
2. There will be a person’s face on your screen. Every time the person blinks, press Enter. This is to test whether you are maintaining eye contact.
3. When you hear the word “blue”, you will stop typing the words you hear and start typing every association you can make with the word “blue”.
4. When the speech stops you will be asked a question about what you heard.
Whew, that’s complicated! But I hope it conveys how much effort it takes for me to understand what people are saying (no I’m not deaf; my hearing is quite sensitive!) and keep my thoughts focused on maintaining a meaningful dialogue instead of fixating on something stupid.
I’m slowly learning over time not to do things like blurt out my response because I’m so worried I won’t be able to hold on to it until the other person is done talking. I’ve steamrolled over quite a few surprised people that way! I’m also learning to listen for signs that the conversation has moved on and the response I’ve been saving is staler than stale. This is all easier in one-on-one conversations than big groups, where I usually end up feeling like Milton from Office Space.
photo | fensterbme
When People Say “You Can’t Really Be An Aspie…”
“Are you really an aspie?”
“You have Aspergers?”
“You can’t possibly have autism. My 6-year-old neighbor is autistic and you don’t act like him.”
Do people ever say this to you? When I hear this, there are so many things I’m tempted to say in response. If only you knew. Being an aspie means I’m supposed to act…how? Would it be more convincing if I started having a meltdown?
As we get older we learn strategies to help us “blend in” temporarily with the world around us, but it doesn’t change who we are. For example, many aspies figure out that when dealing with customer service, we need to maintain a certain tone of voice and rely on a scripted conversation that usually involves “hi” and “thank you”. You have to prepare yourself for it mentally, a process my friend calls “warming up my nice script”. I love it!
I live in a building with a concierge, doorman, whatever you want to call it. It’s really no big deal but every time I walk into the building I have to prepare myself to say hello and respond to something like “how are you”. If I don’t do this, my only response will be an open gaping mouth or a squeaked attempt at “hi”, a few seconds too late.
Every time I go outside, go to work, or talk on the phone, I’m making a choice to muster up as much energy as I can and focus on fighting my instincts so I can appear personable.
Spouses and children of older aspies often complain that they don’t know how an aspie can be so pleasant outside the home but so irritable with family. I think I can understand this. It’s so draining to have to be an actor all day, putting on your public face, that you have nothing left for your loved ones in the evening. I remember sitting in a near-catatonic state for a few hours every day after work, waiting to recover from sensory overload.
So the next time someone says this to me, maybe I’ll ask them if I hide it well. Because I most certainly am and it doesn’t go away.
(photo: leo)
Dealing with Autism and Cultural Stigmas
When Sharon daVanport from the Asperger Women Association recently invited me to be a guest on her internet radio show, I was both interested and worried. I worried about talking for an audience and for an entire hour, at that.
As it turns out, Sharon made it easy because she’s a great host and fun to talk to. She has a knack for bringing out the best in people.
We had so many things to talk about that I probably didn’t go as much into detail about the cultural aspect of autism as I meant to! I mentioned that disabilities are accepted as an excuse for isolating a person from society in Asian culture, and that few children with disabilities/birth defects even get a chance to go to school. So many of the Korean folk stories I was told as a child made fun of people who looked or acted different in some way. That’s the culture that even modern-day East Asians are coming from – everyone is supposed to look and act exactly the same or face ridicule. It’s very different from the American emphasis on individuality and diversity.
There’s also a belief that anything that has to do with psych or mental health will ruin your reputation and career, which is probably why families are so eager to hide or give up for adoption children with disabilities. You wouldn’t believe how many times I was told growing up I was once an “animal” and lucky my family chose to keep me. Maybe that’s why I was drawn to teaching the kids no one else wanted and felt so strongly about not treating them the way other teachers did.
I don’t think this is a reason to discount one’s culture. It makes you who you are, whether you like it or not. If you’re an adult considering a diagnosis or you already have a diagnosis and your family is not being accepting, you might have to just be sensitive to where they’re coming from, love them for being your family, and figure out what you can do what you can for yourself without alienating them. The same goes for grandparents who aren’t accepting of grandchildren on the spectrum.
Advice from Design Bloggers on Pitching Your Work
Design*Sponge has an excellent post featuring several prominent design bloggers and their advice on how to stand out when pitching your work. I’ve noticed that there are quite a few artists on the spectrum, but this is good advice for anyone!
The specifics vary by blogger, but what they all seem to agree on is:
- Send a few images of your best work – not too big or too small, web-ready quality
- Keep your writing concise – don’t do the aspie ramble, don’t twitter/IM them
- Personalize the email – no mass emails, try to indicate that you’ve been reading their blog
- Be humble and polite
And if you’re even remotely interested in design, you’ll love reading these blogs!
Putting in the Extra Work
As a teacher, I had to write lesson plans every week. You wouldn’t believe how many teachers are still writing their lesson plans in these ancient-looking notebooks that haven’t been modernized since 1952 or so. I must have missed the lecture in teacher ed where they teach you to write a whole lesson into this tiny square on a grid, all in perfect teacher cursive, of course.
Visual Learners Need Visual Formatting
The old-fashioned system just didn’t work for me. I find type more efficient to read than handwriting, and formatting like bold/bulleted/colored/italicized text even more helpful for taking in chunks of information. So I decided to break out of the mold and make spreadsheets.
Why All the Extra Work?
Sure, I got some strange looks and comments. I was called a few versions of overzealous for choosing to color-code the blocks of time on the spreadsheet. But I knew that I needed more prompting than my peers when it came to schedule changes and transitions, and since I’m a visual learner I had to give myself as many visual cues as I could.
For some teachers, it was enough to write down the name of the activity they were doing at that time. They’d never need to look at what they had written because somehow they could commit an entire day’s worth of lessons to memory. I, on the other hand, knew I had to break down each lesson step-by-step and have a copy of it handy in case I suddenly lost my train of thought.
No matter how much I hated having to do so much extra work just to do the same job as my colleagues, I couldn’t not do it either. On the few occasions when I thought I could just do things the normal way, there may have been minor chaos in my classroom!