School can’t teach you...

School can’t teach you NOT TO BE AUTISTIC.

Sorry mums and dads, I know it’s my job to cure your child and make them not autistic anymore, so you can have the child you want, but- no hang on...

That’s NOT my job.

My job is to educate your child and help them manage their condition, so they can be part of the world, and achieve everything realistically possible, and participate in and experience as much as they can.  

And for some of them, that isn’t much. Some of them, by the nature and severity of their disability, are going to need care and support with all aspects of their lives for their entire lifetimes. And some of them, with our intervention, will go on to achieve qualifications and have relationships and jobs and children of their own.

But they’re always going to be autistic, even if they overcome some of the difficulties that entails.

They’re always going to have some of those wacky idiosyncrasies, strange obsessions, bizarre speech patterns and odd behaviours, even in adulthood. Some of it they’ll learn to leave behind (or tone down in given situations, given time and help) but some of it is with them for good.  And to be honest, that’s half the fun... It’s part of the charm.

You can’t cure them. You can’t make them not autistic anymore. You can’t.

AND YOU SHOULDN’T WANT TO.  That’s your child, that is! I know they’re a nightmare sometimes, but that’s part of it. We’re not there to cure them. 

We’re there to teach them independence, social skills, as well as the academic stuff,  so they can have a future with some normality, stability and – if they learn to tone it down – hopefully, some company.

This post is dedicated to the vile Mrs Thompson, who I gave up my time to meet with today after school so she could rant aggressively at me about her 13 year old child still having autism.

Sorry, son. You're just not the child I wanted.

Day 13: The story of your life in 250 words. Exactly.

The story of my life in 250 words precisely... can be read here.

But whilst I have your attention, and I have 250 entirely fresh words to kill, I thought I might go into a little more detail about some of the early days...

I liked school. I went to Leverton Junior, a fairly crappy primary school in Essex. It was quite rough in many ways; low-aspiration, low-income, low-expectation - but I did fine. My family were always a bit out of place there. In Waltham Abbey, and within school... We always did homework, attended parents’ evenings, read at home and didn’t have a satellite dish. No wonder we were outcasts; I didn’t think about it ‘til now but mummy always said she felt we didn’t fit in, and it’s only now I realise why.

But it was fine. I liked being the clever one. 

Then I went to Roding Valley, a large Essex comprehensive. Not a good school according to league tables, but I loved it. I finally found people who were a bit like me, who I could relate to, and who are still my closest friends, 22 years later. Actually, we all ended up in Brighton together. Roding was great – a real mixture of people, and some proper Essex characters.  Half of my form were pregnant by the time we did GCSEs.

The female half, presumably.

But I thrived. Academically, yes -  but more importantly I became confident and sociable; I wasn’t at primary school, though hadn’t realised at the time. Having a real group of friends made a massive difference, and despite the league tables – if you worked hard you were totally able to achieve there. 

Not many people I know remember it with any fondness, but I loved it.

There you go, 250 words precisely.

To be fair, would you socialise with this?

If you had to give a speech, what would you say? BEDM - Day 12.

If I had to make a speech, if I had the opportunity to broadcast a message that would be heard by lots of people, what message would be sufficiently important to best capitalise on this rare circumstance? What could I say that wouldn’t squander this opportunity to be widely heard?

DON’T BE A DICK, would be my keynotes address of choice.

JUST BE NICE.  The three little words by which I try to operate, and the simplest distillation of wisdom I try to instil in my new class each year. I would say this...

When you’re walking along the pavement in a pair or a group, concertina yourselves to take up just a little bit less space, so other people can get by coming the other way. Don’t make us walk in the gutter, and just barrel forward because you want to walk two or three abreast. I’ve noticed this a lot lately.  Often, @superlative and I will adjust formation and walk one behind the other as we pass people, to allow everyone to continue on a narrow pavement. Many other people do the same.  Lots though, and it does seem to be a lot, now crash on, and make you walk in single file, IN THE GUTTER, so they don’t have to move.  Because... because they don’t care.

Don’t be a dick. Just be nice.

If you’re a pedestrian waiting to cross the road, and a car stops to allow you across, by all means walk at a reasonable pace- no-one need run. But don’t walk deliberately slowly because you’re texting. Or for any other reason. That person has stopped out of courtesy, when they really needn’t have- you could do the same and walk at a normal pace, to acknowledge that you don’t want to waste their time.

Don’t be a dick, just be nice.

If you’re parallel parking on a street, at the of a row of bays, try to go all the way to the end. Don’t park your car 6 feet from the end of the bay, leaving a massive amount of space, but insufficient room for anyone to actually fit a car in. This just means that there’s generally less space and someone won’t be able to park tonight. It’s like parking slap in the middle of two spaces and robbing another resident of a space.

Don’t be a dick. Just be nice.

And if you’re leaving a shop, don’t walk through the main door and then stop immediately you find yourself outside. There will likely be people leaving behind you, walking behind you because you are probably also walking very slowly. These people will then come to a complete stop behind you, because you are now blocking the door. They will be trapped and unable to escape and may become frustrated.

Don’t be a dick.  Just be nice.

And if you’re a cyclist, riding to work in the rush hour, and there is a massive empty cycle lane running the entire length of the road out of town, use it. Don’t cycle along in the road, limiting every road user to your 6 mile an hour speed. You have an entire special lane, built specifically for you at great expense to local residents, about 2 feet further to your left. It’s right next to you, and you could use it much more safely, and allow car drivers to then go at a more appropriate speed.

Don’t be a dick. Just be nice.

In short, try to think about other people. Say ‘thanks’ or give the little nod when someone waves you across, or lets your past. Walk as quickly as you realistically can to avoid holding people up needlessly, especially if they’ve stopped to let you past. Pull over to answer your phone when you’re walking through the shops. Don’t just stop dead in your tracks and cause a people-pile-up outside Next. Think about other people and not just yourself.  Try to be nice.

Don’t be a dick.

Thank you all for coming; it’s been an honour to give this address. I hope you have found it useful and thought-provoking, and I wish you all the best on your departure. Thank you.

Which 3 things have you been meaning to do for ages?

Tricky, tricky, tricky.

See, I’m a doer- I get things done.  Well – most of the time. I’m only human, after all. But I don’t like lingering jobs. Between my enthusiasm for getting up, getting out and getting stuff done and @superlative’s administrative power, we are quite efficient. Nothing gets left for too long.

We may well look ridiculous now, if he says completely the opposite, and there are loads of lingering things to do on his list.

But I doubt there will be.  We are a powerhouse of efficiency and organisation.

Even weird stuff, like my sit-ups and press-ups regimen, which oscillates a bit depending what social engagements require me to get my kit off, never lapses too much.  I’m a bit lazy at the moment, but still doing quite a bit. I’m not in the shape I was last summer, but it’s not radically different. I never leave it too long, or get too sloppy.

And I want to do things like play Resident Evil 2 (PS1!!) again.  Which will take a few hours, and I haven’t yet, but I will.  But it’s not exactly something I’ve been meaning to do for ages and ages though.

So this list is going to look a bit pathetic, and will be populated by things that really aren’t very important (all that shit gets done right away), or aren’t very interesting, or things I can’t do for specific reasons. So here we go...

1) Paint the house.

Actually, I did that.  I need to do Simon’s bathroom, but then we’re done. But it’s made the list because it sat NOT getting done for 3 years.  But I found a free day the other day and caned our fairly massive living room, which took hours and was back-breaking.  But there you go.  I’m efficient. I need one more free day and Mission: HousePaint will be complete. (I told you it wasn’t very exciting.)

2) Hoover my car.

Wow, it’s a thrill-ride on here today!  The excitement is palpable! Yeah – I keep my car looking nice because I am kind of OBSESSED WITH MY CAR.  I don’t have a child.  I don’t WANT a child.  But my car is my baby. But with Brighton being Brighton, and us being right by the seafront, parking is a bit involved. I can’t get the hoover to reach out into the street where I park, even when I’m directly outside. So my poor Thunderbolt has to wait until his annual MOT and service for the nice people at Renault to hoover out his innards.

3) Comics.

This is kind of stupid, but I can draw.  As you know, I love comics, and I used to draw lots of comicy things back in the day.  All the time in fact. And I was alright – pretty good, when it went well, though there are always some ropey productions. I’ve ALWAYS been meaning to draw an actual comic.  I’ve had a vague storyline chopping and changing and being slowly edited away in my head for about 15 years, and I always mean to spend one summer putting pen to paper and making it finally happen.  Nothing too epic, just a one shot intro to a story I’ve thought about. Twenty pages maybe -  just a single book that is self contained but introduces a larger story.

This is my real putter-offer. It may not happen, as it is quite an enterprise, and there are always other things to do in the holidays, like play Resident Evil 2, do sit-ups and paint the house. But I hope one day I actually get it done.  It isn’t important, so it moves down the list, but it would be nice to see it come to fruition one day...

Some old (OLD!) prelim panels of some comicy bits I was thinking about writing...

A piece of advice for others: BEDM Day 10

You are not alone. EVERYBODY IS MAKING IT UP. Everybody is winging it ALL THE TIME.

When you’re young, you think that all adults are right because they’re adults.  When you’re young you think that all police officers must be good people because they’re police officers. When you’re young you think that all teachers know everything because they’re teachers.

I remember the day when I realised I knew more about something than a teacher. It was eye-opening, wonderful and a little disconcerting. I wasn’t that old -  I went home and talked to my parents about it, but didn’t really think any further about it.

I only remembered it years later as I gradually realised that adults can be as fallible and stupid as children, they’ve just been doing it longer and have more experience.

Now I’m settled into a career, I think about it all the time.  Every time I have a meeting or people seek my advice on something, or ask my opinion; part of me wonders what the hell they think I know about it

WHY ARE YOU ASKING ME?!

And I don’t exactly make up the answer. I’m well qualified, experienced, successful- but I still go: URK! Erm... What about....blahdyblahblah? And I try to wrap it up in a nice succinct sentence that sounds considered, erudite and convincing.

But really?  We’re all winging it all the time.

I know my stuff, no doubt about it, but no-one really KNOWS the answer to half the questions they get asked – certainly not in my workplace. You suggest a strategy, usually one that’s worked before in a similar situation, then hope for the best.

So my advice?  Don’t worry about being unsure. Everyone is. Uncertainty is ubiquitous and useful. 

Certainty can be much more damaging. 

We make a good pretence at being self-assured and in control.

But most of us are making it up as we go along, and hoping no-one will notice.  And nine times out of ten it does the job and everyone says “Oh, he’s so knowledgeable! He’s the man to ask.”

Imagine if we were all honest about it too?  What a world that would be...

Which superhero do you identify with and why?

This is an easy one. I am mega-obsessed with super-heroes, comics and all that shiz. But let me tell you the story first...

I grew up with ‘Transformers UK’ comics -  still the finest comics ever written, bar none. I pretty much know the entire run, word for word, from start to finish. 

I don’t know why.

I graduated to Spiderman in the late 80s, I think after reading a review of, then buying, then playing (for hours) the Spider-Man game on Sega Master System. It was a bit of a life-changer. This was when I ventured from the love of Transformers comics solely (which was inherited from my brother) to full-blown comic geekdom. I never looked back. It expanded and evolved from Spider-Man to X-Men, to god knows where... I now collect so many titles it’s not even funny.

It’s really not.  It’s an expensive hobby.

Spider-man and X-Men are an interesting pair though.  Superhero comics in general, but these two lines in particular are eternally popular with teenage males (obviously), but especially with gay, black and Jewish teenage males.

Care to venture an opinion why? Secret identities, hiding your true nature, inherent differences you can’t control – that you may have been born with – but that set you apart.  Kept hidden for fear of ignorant or violent reactions from those around you.

The math isn’t hard. No wonder the gays love their X-Men.  The parallel is drawn constantly, but is very real and very tangible. They elude to it constantly in the films and books.

But the ones I really love? The one I identify with the most? 

I like the ones who don’t act like heroes. Who aren’t kind and just and brave. I like them because they’re actually very real- ruthless, troubled, introspective, fearless, merciless, untrusting, desperate, damaged, greedy, driven, vulnerable

I like Magneto. And I like Death’s Head.

They’re not written like comic characters at all. They’re written like people, despite the amazing powers and crazy adventures. They’re heroes (most of the time) and you root for them, but they’re not very nice people.  They’re flawed. They’re just like... people.

Except one is a giant robot, but you get the idea.

  

Day 8: Make us want you...

Hah.

When I was 20*, I just used to post shirtless pictures, and the denizens of OUTintheUK would all say nice things about me, or proposition me for sex, or offer me money to watch me masturbate furiously before the cold, hard, lifeless stare of their digital lens. Or sometimes, if I was lucky, all three.

And I won’t lie. I kind of liked it. It was flattering and fun and exciting. (I never took the money- FYI.)**

But always done with a pinch of humour. I wasn’t *just* being a vacuous attention whore. I’d like to think I was pretty amusing at the same time. I think I was. But I did like being wanted.

And now I’ve grown up, and I don’t post *quite* as many shirtless pictures. Though those linked to me on Facebook will doubtless disagree.

Now I have to rely on charm, wit and my kind, selfless, caring nature.

I have stopped worrying about being wanted as well. It used to be a big deal. It really isn’t now. Now I have to settle for being stable and solvent and interesting and friendly and witty and amusing. Ironically, I honestly think I was actually far more witty and amusing back in those days though. When I had time to be, probably.

It is nice not to be so preoccupied with impressing people and trying to be appealing, sexually or otherwise, though. But I sort of think I’ve grown into my looks in a way. I’m probably a more appealing package these days than I was when I was 20. And I only take my shirt off nowdays, and rely on my slim, tanned, athletic body, if it’s absolutely essential.***

*and maybe a few years beyond...

**I was giving it away.

***to the fee.

Any time, at your convenience.