When Willy was diagnosed, we were told Willy would never say “I love you.” The doctor wasn’t just talking about the verbal expression of love, but implied my son lacked the ability to feel love. Now, seven years later, Willy says “I love you” at least a dozen times a day. He expresses love through hugs, kisses, and quiet acts of compassion. It is easy to see and to hear and to feel Willy’s love. He has deep connections with the important people in his life – both adults and children, whether they are family, friends, or service providers. He loves and he shows it in a way that’s easy for others to recognize.
Alex, on the other hand, is predominantly non-verbal. He’s said “wuv oo” maybe a dozen times in his entire life. Like all his words, these are rare precious. Yet, even for Alex, the implication that he does not love or cannot show his love is entirely wrong. Alex loves the same way he does most everything else – passionately, loudly, and deeply. Alex is sparse with hugs and kisses most of the time, then has sporadic outbursts of affectionate touching where he wants to be hugged and kissed for long periods of time all at once.
Alex shows his love in other ways that become easy to read if you make the effort. His face lights up when his Noni (grandma) comes over and he bounces up to her, holding onto her, and trailing behind her like a loud, wiggly shadow. He grabs people he loves as if he’s literally trying to pull them into his experience. He jumps at them and presses himself against them like he’s trying to occupy the same space as they are. His touches can be gentle, but usually he uses the same pressure on others that he likes for himself – deep, rich pressure that reaches to the bone. When he greets those he loves his vocalizations reach an excited pitch that has a different tenor and tone than any other time. He loves with his whole being, every fiber and sinew, and expresses it the best way he knows how. Yet, many people outside the chaos of autism would not see or interpret his love accurately.
* * *
Some people assume that “normal” people can communicate with each other and autistic people cannot or cannot do so easily; thus, there is either no communication or faulty communication coming from the autistic people. Those who have studied communication, however, know that communication is a difficult process. Even “normal” people rarely communicate effectively. What I say, you may hear, but you’re likely to interpret it differently than what I mean – if you’re listening at all. Truly effective communication is rare. People hear, but they don’t listen; people read, but they don’t seek to understand. We talk, but that doesn’t mean we communicate.
When an autistic person is trying to communicate, this problem may be exacerbated by the different ways some autistic people use to communicate. For example, Willy is heard more often than Alex, because he communicates in a way that neurotypical people are familiar with; whereas, Alex communicates in a way that is all his own, and most people have no experience listening to him and assume he’s not communicating anything.
In this sense, it is true that some autistics do not communicate effectively. In order to effectively communicate, the hearer has to listen and try to understand. That does not mean it’s true to say that autistics do not express themselves or their emotions. Whether they use words or not autistics do express themselves. Some use a set of verbal and body languages very different from our own. Others learn the set of verbal and body languages we use daily, but it is as if these means of communication are foreign to them, like French or Spanish is foreign to a native English speaker. Even if they become fluent in the ways we communicate it will still be more challenging for many autistics to communicate unless we learn their verbal and body language as well. Communication is a two-way street, and we shouldn’t expect them to do all the work.
* * *
A while back my brother came to visit. He can rarely afford to make such a trip, so it’s always something of a shock when he’s here (for him, not us). He loves his nephews dearly and tries very hard to communicate with them, but it requires a period of adjustment, especially with Alex. Willy is verbal and very physical and adores his Uncle Pat to no end. It requires very little work for them to re-establish their connection. Benjamin Patrick, my brother’s namesake, loves to be lifted high and tossed around. That and an unconscious sense of trust (that’s doled out selectively, but uncanny wisdom) is enough for Ben to build a bond with someone. Alex is more puzzling for most people. It’s not that he adores his Uncle Pat any less, or that he doesn’t appreciate the physical play that my brother is so good at, but Alex communicates in a way uniquely his own. Understanding Alex can be difficult even for those of us with a lot of practice. For someone without that practice, sometimes it’s simply impossible; often an interpreter is necessary. Alex is also more wary than his brothers. He likes to stay back and observe before he joins in any action. He’s also adapts more slowly to major changes, but handles minor ones more easily. So, when my brother came Alex held back at the first. But once Alex regained his sense of equilibrium while having Patrick in the mix he was able to interact with Uncle Pat as well as he can, but it still was difficult for Patrick to understand him. It wasn’t that Alex didn’t express his love or his enthusiasm in having Uncle Pat around, but that it was more challenging for Patrick to understand him. Patrick knew this, accepted it, and did the best he could to understand. Most people don’t bother.
In order to connect with people socially, communication is required. In order to have communication, there needs to be an expression, a “listening” period, and comprehension. To say autistics do not express love or that they do not try to make connections with others is wrong. The expression is there, but may come in different forms than most of us are familiar with. The questions becomes: “Are you listening? If you are, are you trying to understand?” From what I’ve seen, the answer is often no. We hear, but we do not listen. We talk, but we do not communicate. When communication fails, we blame others because they didn’t speak to us. Most of us don’t stop to ask, “Did I listen?”
