Sometimes I feel like the majority of my doing my job correctly consists of simply figuring out when I’m in the wrong. It’s so easy for us humans (neurotypical or not) to project, to assume, and to get stuck in our own perspectives. And then we get annoyed when someone else responds badly because we misunderstood them. Time and again, I solve a “behavioral” issue with a nonverbal client by realizing that I am the problem.
I was walking with “Charles” the other day. He was having what I think of as a rough sensory integration day– loudly stimmy, clearly tense, obviously not feeling particularly at home in his body. I get that.
Chewing helps him when he feels this way. He went through a sandwich bag of crackers, and one of chips, and then we were out of snacks. He reached for my pocket, where I keep my phone, and I brought up his visual menu (he uses an ipad with a communication app at home, but when we’re out and about, it’s easier for him to simply scroll through a set of pictures I have saved in a folder on my phone).
He requested gum, a current favorite.
I didn’t have any gum, and I told him that. He requested it again. I searched my purse, just to be sure, and discovered a hard candy, which I offered him. That kept him happy for a few minutes, then he asked for gum again. I reminded him I didn’t have any. He asked again. I repeated the purse search, showing him each pocket, because it’s true that sometimes I do forget or misplace things in there and find them later. But this time, no gum.
He selected “gum” from the menu yet again. I told him sorry, I’m all out. I tried to put my phone away, and he became agitated, trying to grab it out of my hand. I pulled away, stuck the phone back in my pocket. He swatted at me and I had to bat is hands away from my face and hair.
“I know you want gum! I know! But there’s no gum, understand? I’m all out! I don’t have any more.”
I kept a pleasant tone of voice but I was starting to feel agitated myself. Why was he still asking? Didn’t he get it? I know he understands my speech just fine most of the time. There’s nothing wrong with his language comprehension, although he might be having trouble processing my words in such an emotional state.
He grabbed for my pocket again, and I shooed him away. He tried to smack me and I backed away. Was he just not thinking? Was his attempt to get at my phone just a compulsive action? Perseveration, in clinical terms? He was growing more frustrated by the moment.
And then I realized: I’m the problem. I’m creating a conflict where it isn’t needed. I’m turning this into a power play. And I’m acting like one of those horrible therapists who police their clients’ language use, which is unacceptable.
Time to challenge myself. Why am I trying to stop him from asking for gum again? Just because he already asked and I answered? Do typical kids and teenagers stop asking for something once they’ve been told it isn’t available? Of course not. It doesn’t mean they don’t understand.
It’s true that autistic people do sometimes get “stuck,” and have trouble stopping an action or activity, but that doesn’t mean every repeated action is the result of being stuck. Maybe I’m pathologizing perfectly normal frustration. Maybe this isn’t a symptom of autism, but simply a desire to be listened to, even though he knows I can’t give him what he wants. How often do we verbal people talk about things we want even when we can’t have them? A lot. He has the right to do it too.
So I held the phone back out, and let him pick “gum” another half dozen times or so. He stabbed his finger at the screen over and over. He made annoyed noises. I stood there and didn’t interfere. I let him tell me how much he wanted that gum, how frustrated he was that he couldn’t have any. I thought, what might he be saying me if he had access to more complex language? What would a verbal teen say?
“Why didn’t you bring gum? You know how much I love gum. Man, I sure wish we had some gum right about now. This sucks. I hate walking without gum. How could you run out of gum? You should have remembered to bring gum.” A verbal teenager might say any or all of those things. I wouldn’t try to stop them.
So I apologized again for being out of gum. I promised him I’d buy more for next time. I told him I was sorry for causing him stress by not having what he needed. I suggested that we head back home and get him a snack. He calmed down, clearly liking my suggestion. Once he was calm, I put my phone back in my pocket, and he didn’t object. I offered him my hand and he took it. Together, we started walking home.
Restless Hands 