Communication: A 2-way Street

You hear the diagnosis – autism. You tell your family and friends. No one, including you, has any idea how to really communicate with this child. The child seems to ignore you, won’t even look at you. You want to give them a hug and they squirm to get away. You know there is a wall and you have to break through it - the question is how? As you are dealing with all this you are also watching others shy away from your child. No one knows how to interact.

We went through this stage. At the start everyone is sympathetic and I am certain they hurt with me. My family and in-laws wanted to help, but they had no idea how, and I couldn’t tell them. I was not an expert, just a mom. I couldn’t teach my family the basics because I didn’t know them myself. I would have both boys with me at a family member’s house, but only one child was seen. Matt would stay back, his eyes cast downward. He didn’t respond to grandma’s “hello” or Aunt Connie’s questions. He didn’t want to be held by my best friend, or play with the other children present. One or two attempts and their focus would go to Christopher, and later to Jacob and Sarah, and Matt was ignored – forgotten. It broke my heart.

It hurt like hell back then. Now I can see it was not that my family or friends were being cruel - they simply didn’t know how to react. Almost a fourth of our brain is devoted to sight. Part of this is because we read facial expressions and body movements as part of our silent communication. You say “hello!” to someone and you examine their face. Do they smile? Do they roll their eyes? Do they make a grimace? Is there joy in their eyes? We use these facial clues to know what to do next. Do we turn and walk away or grab them for a hug? We follow through without thinking because we have already processed the emotion on their face. Matt reads emotion and body language, but he can’t process it the same way. He doesn’t know right off if he should give a hug or hide in his room.

As Matt got older and could speak, people would attempt to interact a little bit more. They were getting feedback and it gave them incentive to continue. Unfortunately, as soon as Matt dropped his gaze or his face scrunched up as he tried to figure out what to do next, they would take this as a sign he did not want to continue and the interaction would abruptly end. I’ve seen this replayed a thousand times and at every age. If Matt’s gaze falters, if his facial expression changes, if his body language hints at being uncomfortable, people give up and walk away.

As Matt got older I got wiser. I could see this dance between him and others and would make comments to help the interaction be more successful. It doesn’t always sink in and it leaves me frustrated and sad. There have been many times I have just wanted to scream, “please try!” to those around me, but I let it go and try to deal with the sadness I see in his eyes. It’s not easy.

Matt is autistic. It is a communication disorder. We all know he has trouble communicating, but don’t we all too some extent? He wants attention – but can’t ask. He wants love and friendship but can’t state it clearly or give the usual signs. So here are a few pointers to help you on your own journey to understanding the autistic mind. Always look at him and give a smile. Always say hello when you meet him and goodbye when you leave. Leaving without goodbye hurts him. Without a goodbye, he feels left out, part of the background, unimportant. Include him in the conversation. Offer him a seat. Tell him a funny story, talk about your day. Invite him join in. Be patient. He may not be able to find the right words as quickly as he wants to and he can become a bit frustrated. Help him out. Help him find the right words. He’s always grateful and will tell you “Yes!”

A few winters back we had an emergency trip to Illinois. My boy’s paternal grandmother was dying. She had always been quite special to both of my boys and she was close to both of them even though we lived 1000 miles apart. On our first visit to the hospital we came across my ex-husbands extended family. They were polite and sincerely happy to see the boys. Their father had not had any communication with Matt or Christopher for years except the occasional card. Matt did not know his biological father. He had long ago picked Tom to be his daddy and he never looked back. His father stepped up to him and said hello, expecting a big hug and a smile. But Matt didn’t know him, and cast his eyes downward and took a step back. His father became angry, and actually told Matt, “Well that’s just fine, be that way and see if I care”. How was Matt supposed to respond? His own father had not accepted him as autistic and had no desire to learn how to communicate with him. Matt’s facial expression and gesture immediately brought a negative response from his father. Instead, his father should have introduced himself, shook his hand and talked with him softly. Matt would have felt at ease and they could have talked. I wish I could say this was an isolated incidence, but unfortunately, that is not the case. I have seen this type of backward interaction from others also.

The autistic individual needs someone else to be the first to initiate an interaction. Don’t wait for them to come to you – it’s not going to happen. Matt, as with many autistic individual, is quiet and seems aloof. It’s not the same quiet and aloof you are used to seeing in normal individuals – for an autistic person, this is protective. I know Matt is actually watching expressions and gesture to gauge a person’s emotion and temperament. He won’t even consider communicating unless he feels safe in your presence.

Reading about individuals with autism brings people to different, inaccurate conclusions; that autistic people are mentally deficient or that they can’t feel emotion. Both are ridiculous and inaccurate stereotypes. Many, if not most autistic individuals are just like Matt – they are both intelligent and sentient human beings.

I wish others could see in Matt what I see. To do that, you have to communicate with him.