Melbourne, Aug 28 (The Conversation) My journey with autism began long before I received my diagnosis at three years and three months. My family first noticed my autistic traits when I was around 15 months old. I didn't make eye contact or respond to my name, and I lined up toys rather than playing with them. When I wanted something, I would take someone's hand to get it for me. I often had meltdowns in busy environments or when routines unexpectedly changed, yet I couldn't express why I was upset.
Eventually, I was diagnosed with autism, which brought grief to my family, as they feared I might never lead an independent or full life. But my mother was proactive in organizing support for me, soon engaging me in home-based intensive behavioral programs, speech therapy, and more, though I was unable to learn to speak.
Discovering a New Way to Communicate A pivotal moment occurred when I was nine. I started learning how to communicate using a form of augmentative and alternative communication called supported typing. I use a device with a keyboard, known as a Lightwriter, which vocalizes what I type, while a person touches my shoulder as I type, helping me remain aware of my body and focus on communicating my message.
With supported typing, I was able to continue my education and am now a PhD candidate, researching neurodiversity in autistic individuals with minimal or unreliable speech, or those with complex communication and high support needs. It's allowed me to live more fully, deliver a TEDx talk as a nonspeaker, and write my autobiography. I am using supported typing to write this article.
The Rarity of Speech in Autism Autism alters how individuals communicate, interact, and perceive the world, marked by differences in social communication and narrow interests, like Lego or trains. As of 2022, there were 290,900 autistic Australians, with about one-third being nonspeaking. This community of nonspeaking autistic individuals often faces social vulnerability and exclusion, fueling my desire to dispel certain myths.
Myth 1: We Don't Use Language Autistic nonspeakers cannot utilize speech for communication, yet many are verbal in their understanding and use of language. As a visual thinker, I perceive the world in pictures and images. Initially, speech was only meaningless sounds. At about six, I realized words have meaning and could communicate ideas. By associating people's speech to their behavior, I started understanding language's symbolic nature, aiding my ability to communicate.
Sensory and movement differences mean autistic individuals with complex communication needs require assistance to communicate, perform routine activities, and engage socially. Physical touch on our hand, arm, or shoulder helps us with position, balance, and movement, assisting us in pointing to pictures, spelling, or typing. Support workers also aid us in focusing and keeping calm to facilitate communication.
Myth 2: We Don't Understand Your Mind Autistic people, especially those with complex communication needs, often require extra time to decode, interpret, and extract meaning from experiences. However, with time and effort, many of us can empathize and understand other people's minds. Social stories can be used to teach us about social expectations and interactions; they describe what might happen, allowing us to rehearse and apply them in real-life situations. For instance, when meeting someone new, we may use a social story to guide us through introductions and conversation.
Myth 3: We Behave Unconventionally for No Reason In hectic environments, autistic individuals can feel unsafe, as bright lights or noise can lead to sensory overload and distress, escalating stress and reduced response capacity. We employ various strategies to manage these sensations, such as lying down, focusing on blinking lights, humming, or moving to regain balance and self-regulate. Yet, if these methods fail, we may respond in unconventional ways like screaming, running off, or melting down. These behaviors result from feeling extremely unsafe and anxious, not from a lack of understanding.
Providing a quiet space allows us to relax and regain control without needing to resort to concerning behaviors.
Next Time So, the next time you encounter an autistic person who doesn't speak, meet us halfway. Allow us the time and space to process and think about our response. (The Conversation) NPK NPK
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