We all wonder how we would react if the going got tough, i.e. there was a zombie invasion or something of the sort. This explains the popularity of The Walking Dead, the AMC series which just started its third season, and Cormac McCarthy's novel, The Road, which is set in a post-apocalyptic world where most survivors are cannibals. The silver lining in these doomsday scenarios is the bonds that develop among the survivors, both strangers who meet by chance and families who have stayed together.
As the mother of a teenager with autism and the author of a novel, If I Could Tell You, about families raising children with autism, I'm accustomed to looking for silver linings. This may be why I own a well-thumbed copy of The Road and am a huge fan of The Walking Dead. Autistic children's tantrums and other challenging behaviors may pale next to an invasion of flesh-eaters, but otherwise, raising a kid with autism and trying so hard to help him or her is about as tough as things get for most people in this life. So one attraction of these two works of fiction for me is that, while the worlds they present may have gone to hell, all the children left are perfectly behaved.
Case in point: Carl (Chandler Riggs), the son of the hero police officer Rick Grimes (Andrew Lincoln) on The Walking Dead, has had to flee home with his mother and his father's best friend, seen Atlanta blown up with napalm, been told his father is dead (he then turns up alive), been shot, and seen various strangers (including an adorable little girl) whom he has come to love killed and eaten by the undead. Throughout it all, he couldn't be calmer or more polite. He's cried a bit, and he played with a gun and a zombie (this show's equivalent of tossing a couple of water balloons out a window in the world as we know it), but has he ever really acted up? Has he ever misplaced his sneakers when it was time to flee, answered his father back or told his mother that the zombie infestation is really all her fault? That's the point, some might say: He's wise beyond his years. If that's what a little zombie voodoo can do for a normal kid, how might it help one with autism? Bring on the undead, I say.
The son in The Road, known only as "The Boy," is similarly angelic. McCarthy's novel is even bleaker than The Walking Dead. It presents a vision of a world after some unnamed calamity has blocked out the sun, causing the earth to grow colder and killing all plant life. The surviving humans have eaten all the animals, and the people left survive by eating each other, except for the hero, The Man, and his son, The Boy. The Boy's mother took her own life out of desperation. The Man and The Boy walk the burned-out highways in total isolation, eating whatever canned food they can scavenge, and keeping away from the roving gangs of killers. McCarthy is masterful in his depiction of the love between the two, and the writing (although easy to parody) is extraordinarily evocative. (A movie version, starring Viggo Mortensen and Charlize Theron, is not nearly as compelling as the book.) But for anyone who's ever spent any time around an actual kid, The Boy is shockingly compliant. He never whines and virtually never complains. The word he uses most often is "OK." He's actually quite a good conversationalist, though, asking The Man interesting questions, such as, "If you're on the lookout all the time does that mean you're scared all the time?" He disobeys his father only once that I recall, when he refuses to flee on his own from some bad guys so that his father can distract them and sacrifice himself. Is facing the end of humanity and living under a freezing cloud all the time a fair trade for having an utterly attentive, perfectly behaved kid? Hmmm... it's a tough choice. The bad news is: No one's making me the offer.
In all seriousness, though, I got into The Road the minute I read the first line: "When he woke in the woods in the dark and the cold of night he'd reach out to touch the child sleeping beside him." Both The Walking Dead and The Road paint pictures of a world that feels to me like a metaphor for the lives of parents and their children with autism: Walking along together, searching for food (therapies that help and a cure) in unlikely places, and drawing the energy to go on and a feeling of grace from our love for each other. As the father thinks to himself in The Road: "He knew only that the child was his warrant. He said: If he is not the word of God God never spoke."
Who are the zombies and cannibals in my families-with-autism metaphor? They are the special-education bureaucrats who make most of our lives much more miserable than they need to be, and the cold strangers who give our kids fish eyes whenever their public behavior seems odd.
So I'll re-read The Road every now and then and will be looking forward to every episode of The Walking Dead, living vicariously through the dedicated parents and envying them their calm, relaxed kids.
Follow Hannah Brown on Twitter: www.twitter.com/HannahBrown972
Seriously, as a parent of an autistic son, I have at times wished things were different. As many parents likely have, whatever their family's challenges. As I also have in regard to my marriage, my parents, etc. However, first, I would never post for all to see the things that hurt me the most in my job or other relationships, because I would be mortified if the involved parties ever read it! Venting is one thing, but your son will grow up and may one day read (or be told) the content of your writings....how do you think it will make him feel? Second, even if I were to complain about my job, spouse, etc., I would not be talking about an entire class/category of people (which is, as said before, bigotry). Third, I can think of lots of parents that are dealing with lots of difficulty (look up "rare genetic disorders" some time); it doesn't help to think that we have the monopoly on tough parenting jobs.
I would have laughed at your article if you had been referring to the typical ups and downs of parenting typical children. As the parent of an individual at risk of discrimination and disenfranchisement, I believe that it is your responsibility to think more carefully about what you publish.
Thanks again for the post. My absolute favorite line of it:
"Who are the zombies and cannibals in my families-with-autism metaphor? They are the special-education bureaucrats who make most of our lives much more miserable than they need to be, and the cold strangers who give our kids fish eyes whenever their public behavior seems odd."
Brilliant
(:-)
I want to soften my earlier comment. It is all very easy to glibly criticize another mother, to wittily "school" her with some "perspective." It took me getting some harsh comments on my own blog to realize how much they can hurt - and how sorry I was for my old comment on your post. It's not just words, I see now. Also, as someone who has struggled with some of the things that are considered "more" challenging" than perhaps having a child with autism, such as chronic illness, tragic premature deaths, poverty...I have to admit that some of the pains we endure from the reactions and actions of others TOWARD our children with autism to me truly ARE the toughest thing. So please accept my apology. Sincerely, J
I dont have a child on the autism spectrum, but i do have children... and i would like to say to all of you who are harping on about how offensive this is to autistic people and children, to please take a moment and think about the fact that at some point in life every parent wishes they had a child who was more compliant, regardless of any other factors.
I would love mine to be totally compliant at least twice every week.
So the feeling is perfectly normal, perfectly parental, and perfectly human.
I dont feel that the author wished this to be offensive to anyone, she is just stating how she feels, and last time i checked, talking about feelings is something people need to do a little more of instead of pretending they all dont feel the same at some point.
Good on you Hannah, for talking as you see you it :)
Your comment's correct, as far as it goes. But it comes from a place of privilege -- the privilege of the neurotypical (or, in your case, the privilege of "not having a child on the autism spectrum"). It's hard, sometimes, when you're in the majority to understand why the minority in question thinks something "is such a big deal." (I say this from a place of white privilege -- those of us lucky enough to be born in the majority race of this country are pretty clueless about the everyday struggles of and discrimination against people-of-color. It's something we have to learn to pay attention to.)
So, yes, it's true that "every parent wishes they had a child who was more compliant," that's not what this piece was about. It was about Hannah Brown and her *autistic* child. Ms. Brown has written that she intended this piece to be read as humor, and I don't doubt it. But, humor at the expense of an entire group of people is, by it's very definition, bigotry. I believe she didn't intend it to be such, but it is. "Sharing your feelings" is not carte blanche to roll over an entire group of people -- people who, btw, have to endure many unearned slights each and every day. I wasn't being facetious when I suggested that Ms. Brown take this to her therapist. Yes, we all need to vent sometimes. But it's important to know when to vent in private.
But you also do not have total access to her own personal situation and all of the trials she may have to deal with on her own each and everyday.
You have your own experience, but yours is not hers, or her childs, and neither is anyone elses.
All i was trying to say is that she is entitled to feel how she wishes to feel without being bullied and abused for it in return.
I will try again, I tried to reply to Miss Brown below... but my comment view went blank. I have had zero trouble commenting on other articles today. hmmm
My reply to Miss Hannah Brown:
"Dear Miss Brown,
The entire internet world, in terms of Autism sites, are abuzz over this horrific article in which you compare autistic children to zombies, (or maybe the kid in The Road is better than Autistics???).
I put two comments on here that were never approved. If you want to say we are just like zombies that is your opinion. But it seems most of us are worried that the rest of the NT world will read this and think, "egad what if I have a zombie autistic child". If you want to write an editorial, you need to at least approve comments that argue otherwise. Your Autistic child is actually smarter than you, even if they cannot pass the paper iq test to prove it. You my dear are one of the zombies.
A full retraction and apology would be most appropriate. Thank you for responding personally to Laurie. She has been F&F! "
P.S. I saw Laurie's original comment, it was indeed deleted by Huff Post staff...
First off, most Autistic people don't refer to everyone else as "normal". We often say "neurotypical" instead.
Secondly, do you seriously believe that the Zombie Apocalypse is preferable to living with an Autistic child? That's pretty close to wishing you were dead, like the woman who contemplated driving her car off the George Washington Bridge, taking both her Autistic AND neurotypical children with her.
I doubt you have much to fear from the zombies, because if one were to approach you, he would likely go away hungry.
(Why was my last comment censored? ^It said the same thing)
This was really not intended to offend. Please read some of my other articles and see if they strike you the same way.
The entire internet world, in terms of Autism sites, are abuzz over this horrific article in which you compare autistic children to zombies, (or maybe the kid in The Road is better than Autistics???).
I put two comments on here that were never approved. If you want to say we are just like zombies that is your opinion. But it seems most of us are worried that the rest of the NT world will read this and think, "egad what if I have a zombie autistic child". If you want to write an editorial, you need to at least approve comments that argue otherwise. Your Autistic child is actually smarter than you, even if they cannot pass the paper iq test to prove it. You my dear are one of the zombies.
A full retraction and apology would be most appropriate. Thank you for responding personally to Laurie. She has been F&F!
http://twitter.com/HannahBrown972
As importantly, think about the message you're giving to people who don't autism, or a loved one with autism. By writing a piece like this, you are confirming their deepest fears -- that people with differences are scary, are awful; more frightening than the end of the world. Worse, you're doing it under the guise of "expertise," because you're mother of an autistic child. I consider this not just irresponsible, but dangerous.
Oh, and btw, no kid is "perfectly behaved." That's why it's called "fiction." Next time you want to throw yourself a pity-party, make an appointment with your therapist!
Look, I am the parent of an autistic child. I know life can be hard. But, for god's sake, next time before you decide compare the apocalypse favorably to having a child with differences, THINK. Think about the message you're sending to people with autism: I'd rather have the world-as-we-know-it end than have to deal with your challenges. Is that what you think of your own son? (I doubt it, but that's what you chose to write.) Autistic people will read this post. Put yourself in that position for a moment. How do you think this piece would make you feel if you had autism?
Ms Brown, your piece lacks humour. It is offensive. Your contention that you are trying to find a "silver lining" to having an autistic child - the crux of this piece judging from your replies to comments here - is, in and of itself, problematic. My autistic child is not, to embrace your hackneyed metaphor, a dark cloud over my life. He is my ray of sunshine. To contend that autism, a state that cannot be separated from the human being with it, casts such a shadow is to label the autistic person as a tragedy and a burden.
If you think you are smarter than your Autistic child, no matter what the paper IQ test says... Sorry, I have news for you. "Generic" is the word. Oh wait is that why NT's say we have no empathy? hmmm.
Unless you are some kind of immeasurable genius, you couldn't understand. Time and time again, it's an article about, oh poor me, the parent of an Autistic child, whaaa. Try being Autistic.
Having Autism is like being a Chimpanzee surrounded by a bunch of monkeys. While the thieving egotistical monkeys, steal, pillage, put down, bully, steal, and laugh at the Chimpanzee for being different... it is the Chimpanzee that is the superior species. The one that is evolved.
I wish you the best of luck with you and your family. Good day.