...It's Just Common Sense!

One quirk of mine is that I sometimes latch on to memorable lines in movies or music and use them to illustrate frustrating aspects of my life (or life in general). For example, one time when I seriously regretted something, I cynically said, quoting Doc Brown in Back to the Future Part II: "The only way to repair the present is in the past." Another time in the late '90s (when I was in high school), I was waiting obsessively for a reply to an email about something that was really important to me from a friend living overseas. Quoting the song Endless Night from the Broadway version of The Lion King, I commented, "One word, just a word will do to end this nightmare." "They don't have meetings about rainbows," from The Sixth Sense, is a quote I've employed numerous times to illustrate why my deranged drawings and stories drew "concern" from adults while most kids' drawings did not.

Lately, a quote that has been floating around in my mind comes from You Don't Know Jack, the HBO biopic about Dr. Jack Kevorkian. Okay, I know I have mentioned him a lot on this blog, but I am an Aspie, am I not? Anyway, the quote comes from a scene in which Dr. Kevorkian wins in court after being tried (again) for murder. A reporter asks Kevorkian how it feels to be victorious. He replies, "Victorious? I never feel victorious. I just go ahead and do what I do. This isn't a victory to me; it [the right to die]'s just common sense!" Lately, I've found myself using a modified version of that quote, usually in the form of, "This isn't a brilliant insight; it's just common sense!" I find myself saying it after I point out to friends and family what I think ought to be common sense in understanding people with Asperger's Syndrome, or just people in general (quirky or not). And just in case people assume that I'm making this assertion with 20/20 hindsight, ALL of the following examples were based on situations I analyzed as a kid, in some cases as young as eleven:

• When I was eleven, I was diagnosed with scoliosis. I remember the doctor being cold and clinical and that this poor bedside manner made me cry. What I don't remember was that he said that I had a "deformity." Apparently that was "the end" for me. I don't remember it, but I'm sure it happened. My mother seemed to think that my reaction was a bit on the hypersensitive side. Well, let me say this. If you're an eleven-year-old kid who already feels like a freak and next you are told you have a deformity, how could you possibly let that roll off your back? When do you hear the word "deformity?" In medical shows about conjoined twins, or about people with extra fingers or missing limbs, what is colloquially known as a freak. A child who already feels like a freak getting upset about being told she has a deformity? How can that be surprising? This isn't a brilliant insight; it's just common sense!
• My mother and grandmother often reacted to my off-color jokes and even my drawings by telling me that such things weren't ladylike. After a while, I began confiding in my cousin (with whom I'm close) that I hated being a girl.By the time I was twelve, I analyzed this and saw very clearly how absurd it was that a child's genitals, which she does not ask for, apparently ought to determine her behavior instead of her brain. This isn't a brilliant insight; it's just common sense!
• My parents told me that I wouldn't be bullied as much and would have more friends if I only dressed and acted more feminine. I thought this was absurd, not just because such fakery would have made me uncomfortable but also because such friendships would have been phony. At age fifteen I saw this with great clarity. This isn't a brilliant insight; it's just common sense!
• I hugged the dog and told her that I loved her but I never behaved this way around other people. My mom thought it was odd and was concerned. My dad commented, "I don't see what's so hard to understand. The dog's soft, furry, and cute, and people aren't." This isn't a brilliant insight; it's just common sense!
• I ignored my shrink, Dr. Klein, at the synagogue because I was worried that if I said, "hello" to him, other kids would know I was in psychotherapy, which was taboo in the early '90s. Dr. Klein often expressed bewilderment at this behavior, as if it were so unusual (I have told my friends this story, and they said they probably would have done the same thing when they were kids). A kid feels like a freak, and the last thing she wants is for her peers to know she's seeing a shrink. This isn't a brilliant insight; it's just common sense!
• At age fifteen I saw the hypocrisy of my being sent to guidance for "help" after kids bullied me relentlessly. Kids who cannot stop themselves from bullying others are not sent to guidance. Why not? Bullying is a destructive behavior. Shouldn't the teachers be concerned? This isn't a brilliant insight; it's just common sense!
• I drew very deranged drawings in early adolescence (as alluded to in my "They don't have meetings about rainbows," remark). My dad was concerned; Mom was freaked out. Kids who draw rainbows won't draw the concern of their parents, but they also generally aren't nearly as creative as I was. I understood this to be the case by the time I was about thirteen. This isn't a brilliant insight; it's just common sense!
• My parents couldn't understand why I got so upset when they offered me "advice" after I came home from school. Well, think about it. I spent seven hours in school being criticized only to be criticized again when I got home. The fact that my parents' motives were different from those of my peers is irrelevant. At age fifteen I understood that this was why "advice" was upsetting to me. This isn't a brillant insight; it's just common sense!
• The "advice" my parents gave me was painful to hear because it often started with phrases like, "If you would just..." I stopped telling them about the bullying in school and did my best to pretend that everything was okay. They couldn't understand why I wouldn't come to them any longer. I think it's pretty obvious that I didn't need to hear yet another round of criticisms. This isn't a brilliant insight; it's just common sense!
• Everybody told me to "just ignore" the bullies, even when physical violence-- such as throwing clay-- was involved. Nobody would tell an adult to "just ignore" someone throwing things at her as she walked down the street each day. It would be called assault. I knew that ignoring wouldn't work because it would just make kids try that much harder to get a rise out of me. Only now is the conventional wisdom of "just ignore them" being overturned. Really? How could anybody think that this is an effective way to deal with bullies? This isn't a brilliant insight; it's just common sense!

Parents, caregivers, teachers, friends, etc. of Aspies... please use your common sense!

"Asperger's and Death Part II" or "Confronting Your Own Discomfort"

Due to the popularity of my "Asperger's and Death" (it gets the most hits besides the intro page), I am going to address death again, and this time by talking about a famous person.


Dr. Jack Kevorkian.


Yes, Dr. Kevorkian, infamously known as Dr. Death for his in-your-face advocacy of voluntary euthanasia as an option for suffering, terminally ill patients. If anybody has ever watched interviews with him or seen his biopic, You Don't Know Jack, you know that he is a very odd, intense, and hyperfocused man. 


Could he have Asperger's syndrome?


Obviously, I don't know as I've never even met him. But let's take a look about what we know about him from television. I won't lie-- I find him brash and tactless in some of his interviews. I don't always agree with what he says either. For the most part, however, I think he is one of the most brilliant thinkers of the past hundred years, has a lot of good things to say, and is tragically misunderstood because his fascination with death is considered taboo.


Dr. Kevorkian rightly points out that many people are ludicrously uncomfortable with the subject of death, be it in the context of his euthanasia advocacy, his wonderfully disturbing paintings, or the fact that as a young man he did a research project in which he learned that he could determine the moment of death by looking into a patient's eyes and observing the changes.  


Kevorkian has many interests- art, music, and so forth- but he also seems to be very hyperfocused on death. This, combined with his intense facial expressions, mannerisms, remarkable talents (engineering, art, music, foreign language, and, of course, medicine) difficulty connecting with people during his teenage years, and according to friends, a minimal social life and lack of common sense, makes me think he may have Asperger's syndrome.  Many parents and friends of people with AS seem to experience inordinate discomfort about an AS person's obsession, even if with something as benign as trains. Why? I guess because they're not used to it. What happens, then, when that topic is death? 


When I first learned about Kevorkian's eye study, I was intrigued. Then I felt guilty, like I was "supposed to" cringe because if I reacted otherwise it meant something was wrong with me. The problem is that people think that if you're fascinated with death then you may be someone who wants to kill people. This is nonsense. If someone is fascinated with indigestion, does that mean that he cheers for joy when someone pukes on the floor? Being fascinated with the PROCESS of death can easily be completely divorced from the emotional reaction to the loss of a friend, family member, or even a perfect stranger. 


I confess to having a slight fascination with death, but I'm also fascinated with a lot of natural and medical processes. In my first "Asperger's and Death" post, I confessed that when a friend died I not only cried but also researched the decomposition process. Yes, it was my way of dealing with this tragedy, but I would be lying if I said there wasn't a bit of scientific curiosity involved too. What's wrong with that? Guess what? Dr. Kevorkian confessed to crying at some of his patients' assisted suicides which he otherwise approached in a nonemotional manner. 


How many people out there have a fascination with death and are afraid to admit it? Am I more honest about it because I have Asperger's syndrome? Is Dr. Kevorkian? Or are people like us the exceptions, not the rule? I don't know. But I do know that neurotypical people often keep more secrets about "taboo" interests than those with AS because they're so worried about what everyone will think.


You may not agree with Kevorkian's stance on euthanasia, and that's okay. I completely understand that it's a difficult issue for many people (just so you know, he turned away about 97% of the patients who told him they wanted to die). However, I think what we may all be able to agree on is that he has raised consciousness by exposing the absurdity of taboos. Sometimes, probably more often than you think, responding to someone's concern about a friend or child's fascination with death ought to be an emphatic, "So what?" 


Indeed, sometimes it takes someone with Asperger's-- or, at least, someone a little odd-- to make us question our assumptions and the rationality behind our knee-jerk reactions. That opportunity is here now. 


Do it.