The Bird

For awhile, I worked with children of autism. At the time, the spectrum was not defined. There were autistic children and children who had characteristics of autism.

One child I worked with was authentically autistic, defined as such by her characteristic behaviors and by the fact that she had a little hole in the back of her skull. She did a lot of screeching and head banging, I believe because she was so sensory sensitive that even the slightest disturbance in the environment was extremely uncomfortable for her. I imagined her experiencing a class of children entering the lunchroom as a herd of stampeding elephants coming straight at her, for instance.

The physical therapist worked with her to teach the girl  how to hit a NO or YES button to answer a question. I do imagine the feel of the buzzer was like being stabbed with a concrete drill. She was quiet if she could roam freely - kind of like a feral cat.

For almost two years, we worked with her on ways to communicate her needs - to replace the stimming and screeching and headbanging  She appeared to making no functional progress.

One day, she took my hand, which she had learned would get my attention. She led me to the door and put my hand on the door knob. I opened it and she took my hand again and led me into the field. We walked to the edge of the field to the trees. She pulled my hand to sit down. We both sat down. Then she stared at the trees  until she saw a bird under one of them. She took my hand and pointed my arm toward the bird. We looked at the bird. Then she said, "Buhd,:" and looked at me for my response. I was so excited, I got up and danced around clapping with joy. She got up and danced - sort of - too. Then, we walked back to the school.

That event with a child of autism was a lesson well learned for me.  When attempting to communicate with others, don't presume anything about what is transpiring. Don't make assumptions about what's happening within the other person. Have patience, and trust in the process of expressing thoughts and feelings.

This child of autism is but a metaphor of how difficult it can be to communicate thoughts and feelings. Most of us just screech and bang our heads against the wall in frustration when no connection can be made in the attempt to communicate.

All I can say, is from this child of autism, I learned that there are many ways to communicate. It was, for me, a learning process to listen deeply, observe deeply, and feel deeply. And yes, sometimes I forgot to do that.

Where in the world is this skill needed today? Yes, but, even more so, where in every day encounters?