Reasonable Adjustments, naturally.

Well, we've all talked a lot about what went wrong in 2021, but I don't want to dwell on that.  Good things happened too, although our media seeks to keep us as depressed and hopeless as possible, on a diet of disasters and bad news and celebrity banality galore.   You have to look for balance.  Seek out positivity.  Excavate a new and beneficial path.  It's for that reason I have promised myself more time with Nature in 2022. 

Like many people with Asperger's/ASC, I have always found comfort and wonder in the natural world:  Alone on a beach, in a forest, by the side of a pond - I can while away hours, watching a spider clambering through the grass, or a Jay, burying peanuts and marking the place with a few well-placed leaves.  Equally, I can be transported by the song of a Dunnock or a Starling in my garden, or hang motionless in the water on a solo night-dive, torch off, to watch the bioluminescence of the plankton swirling around my hands.  Nothing brings me such peace as when I am alone with nature.  

I have never really thought too much about what I need for my own peace of mind - I have always done what I thought was needed by others around me - parents, friends, my family, my employers...  Now, however, when I consider how I can feel such desperate anxiety, even in familiar environments and in trusted company,  I am certain that I need to make a significant change and immerse myself in nature, once and for all.  

For as long as I can remember, I have been fascinated by every aspect of the natural world - from geology and palaeontology and detailed scientific aspects of entomological studies to bird-watching, underwater exploration and growing my own fruit and veg.  I have created countless paintings, illustrations, photos, projects and collections to extend my connection.  My years in environmental consultancy taught me how intimately entwined our lives are with the natural world, despite our efforts to separate ourselves from it, and it also taught me how complicated, impactful and effecting those relationships can be.  

My years in education brought home how much our young people have lost as our society forgets its relationship with the natural world.  Will this lead to a society that is ignorant of nature?  It has certainly distanced itself from the devastating impact we have had upon it, so perhaps.  It is true I have been dismayed by the lack of interest shown by young people I have taught in sustainability, plastics in the environment, ocean acidification and climate change and even just being out of doors. But when I witness the wonder shown by a small child as a pill bug unrolls from its little segmented marble, or when they see the caterpillar miraculously become a chrysalis, I know it is recoverable.  Indeed, we must keep trying. The alternative is unthinkable.

My own son has been brought up with Nature, land and sea.  His curiosity was indulged at every opportunity, visiting amazing places, learning to scuba dive, joining scouts, meeting and talking with ecologists and naturalists from an early age.  I knew he was 'hooked' the day he came in from the garden and told me how some of the little wolf spiders were carrying tiny snail shells instead of egg cases: We sat and searched the internet for information on this and he was delighted when we found an old paper that noted this phenomenon, with reference to the 'strong maternal instincts' of these wolf spiders. 

So, what about those who have missed those opportunities, who have been shut down by fear, or lured by the comfort of 'minimum effort', and cannot be persuaded to look up from their smart phones? How do we reach them? 

When I think about social media and consider how it can corrupt, misinform and ensnare, I temper my thoughts by considering its ability to influence, enchant and educate.  If they won't come out to meet nature, we must take it to them.  So why give our children these powerful and poorly-understood tools, only to complain about how they use it?  If we gave a child a hammer and no instructions, they would probably destroy something with it long before it occurred to them to build something with it.  We must be ready with materials to use, be prepared to show them what can be done, what is achievable, accessible, and be confident in our answers when they ask 'why?'.  Only then, can we tempt them out into the real, authentic world and all its wonders.

I'll never forget the expression on the face of the teenage student who had never tasted a raspberry before (only the fake flavours in sweets) as he stripped the canes on our school allotment of their fruit.  Likewise, I will never forget the day we found a juvenile blue shark in the shallow waters off our favourite beach: We tried to show the local holidaymakers its stunning colour and explain how it may have become disorientated, but they were convinced it was dangerous - children were pulled from the water by their parents.  My consternation only increased when those same parents later encouraged their children into the water to feed their unused crabbing bait to a large male grey seal...  There is much to learn, but the effort is essential, and this is something I will never tire of.  

 My son when he was much younger, discovering for himself that the skin of a shark is rough - priceless.

 

Killing with kindness

 I recently decided to take a bit more control of my life.  Did I sell up and move to the coast?  No.  Did I quit my job and start writing my first novel?  No.  Did I sell most of my belongings and buy a boat?  No. (They are planned further down the line, I assure you!)

No, my first step along the road to 'including myself' was to change the day I celebrate my birthday.  My actual birthday occurs virtually on top of Christmas, and has always been more of an obligation than a celebration:  Almost guaranteed expensive prices, poor choice of cards, rejected invitations, terrible TV, cancelled bookings and dreadful weather.  I have, traditionally always done my best to ignore it and actively encourage anyone I know to do the same.  I decided to announce the change via Facebook (many of my friends and family have begun to use Facebook over the various Lockdowns, and the handy notifications they would receive when I changed the date of my birth to May 23rd (a perfect choice for weather, availability and general demeanour) they would all get reminders.  It worked very well, and I find myself looking forward to enjoying an extended Christmas celebration, unadulterated by the inevitably doomed Birthday planning.  A real win-win.  

I mention this, purely because it is a clear and unique example of doing something for myself, successfully. In my new job (nearly a year here already), I have come to an awful realisation which may throw me back into the maelstrom of seeking employment once again.  For the strangest of reasons:  Kindness.

I work in a school with a group of incredibly caring and kind people, all undoubtedly, highly empathetic.  I am an Aspie, highly logical and, although empathetic in my own way, a world away from their experience.  The job is comprises lots of admin tasks carried out in quite the most hectic and disordered environment I have ever experienced.  Together with the added pressure of constant interactions with staff, health professionals, pupils and parents, it's one of the most challenging I have ever found myself attempting.  And I am failing.

I am utterly exhausted by it every day.  I am told: 'That's the job'.  And it is.  I underestimated hugely, the amount of interaction I would have to manage when I applied for the job, (but it wasn't explicitly stated in the job description) and there was so much to learn, so quickly, it's only now, after a year, that I can reflect and realise this is not for me.  I know this must be a familiar realisation for many of us, on the spectrum.  It is always going to be a minefield; employment, that is.  Those of us on the Autistic Spectrum who are capable enough to 'pass' for 'normal' (whatever that is) fall into an impossible trap:  We enjoy little of the understanding and compassion rightfully given to on those who are in visible distress and extreme difficulty.  We have all the same disadvantages - difficulties in forming relationships, making ourselves understood and procuring the help we need to manage in our working environment.  Indeed, the less we appear to struggle, the less likely we are to attain any of these things.  Our apparent ability to cope and to manage make us vulnerable.  This seems to be particularly true of women on the spectrum, (especially late diagnosed) who have become skilled social mimics.  These skills never become intuitive, however, so the energy required to maintain them is enormous.

I find myself in a situation I never thought possible, and it is probably testament to my own skills at appearing to 'fit in' ('camouflaging' as autistic research has now coined it), together with my conviction that I would be better off in an environment with lots of kind people.  The final straw in my case is the care and concern shown to me, now that I have started to crumble.  I can take no comfort in it.  I don't know why, exactly - perhaps it is a consequence of many years of cumulative trauma from continuous misunderstandings and social rejection, (there is interesting new research on PTSD in ASD) or is it is merely another level of interaction I am unable to reciprocate, because it is genuine, heartfelt and continuous?  I want so much for them to see that their care and concern are helping me, but it isn't, and I blame myself for that. The irony of this is not lost on me, I can assure you...

Ten Years After (First published October 2019)

 (Written October 2019)

It has been a tumultuous couple of months, and not just because of Covid 19, Lockdowns and new vaccines.

I have finally been pushed to limit of of my capacity to put up with my job and my employer of 10 years.  I am very pleased with the new role I am about to begin, but there are always regrets, aren't there?  My regrets are same as always in these situations, but with a couple of added extras...  

Regardless of the reasons for moving one from jobs in the past, (redundancy, company collapse, recession, the employer's contractual irregularities, excessive, unremunerated overtime) I have always regretted that communication could not salvage the situation:  Perhaps I was unaware of some unseen hierarchy, or underestimated the significance of some relationship or aspect of the job valued by my superiors... Sometimes I have been oblivious of political changes happening within the company, and the consequent social activity of other staff, vying for position before the axe fell.  Sometimes, my inability to fit in socially was all it took for me to be 'selected for redundancy'.  To my knowledge, it has never been a result of my inability to do my job to a high enough standard.

On the few occasions I have decided to leave, it has usually been at a point far beyond where most people would have decided the situation was untenable. I am tenacious and reluctant to admit defeat, and tend to hang on in the hope that a solution presents itself.  But to decide to leave because it is right for me, is a fairly rare experience. I feel strongly that, on this occasion, I had gone above and beyond to find a solution to the endless hail of unpredictability and flawed strategies that I have had to weather for the last 3 years.  I can adapt to change, but this was too much. 

But, enough about the things I cannot change.  I mentioned some new regrets earlier, and these are oddly welcome.  It appears I have managed to make an impression in the last 3 years, with staff and students who have told me they are sad that I am leaving, and this has led to some feelings I rarely experience:  I will miss them.  I am not entirely without empathy, (I dont believe any autistic person is), but I do struggle with these feelings for two reasons:  Firstly, unless someone explicitly states that they value my efforts, I assume they do not.  This is not due to some desperate need for validation.  It is merely a consequence of Asperger's - I cannot interpolate other people's feelings about me into my own self-image when they have not been communicated explicitly.  It will never occur to me to think I have done a good job purely on the basis that no-one told me I did a bad job.  Even when I pleased with the outcome of a task I have performed, I will always have some expectation that someone, somewhere is disappointed, if I don't hear explicitly that it was satisfactory.

The difficulties with this behaviour, is that it comes as a huge surprise when people do communicate these things explicitly.  In my experience, it is something reserved for goodbyes.  I was unprepared for the response to my 'goodbye' message, from staff and students.  I was truly humbled by the number of messages of thanks I received.  I still marvel at the way I have spent the last few years oblivious to these feelings. But this is the reality of Asperger's.  It can appear oddly self-serving to illicit comment from people, just so you hear it explicitly - how would you know their response was genuine?  

This may seem a minor issue, an inconvenience, overcome by the will to believe people are being genuine: Trust.  But there lies the problem:  Trust is a difficult concept for someone like me, and when comments are made under circumstances like this, there is little opportunity to test their veracity and gain the evidence I need.  Which is, of course, the dilemma at the heart of what trust is... ignorance is not bliss.

An unwitting tourist shows off the local wildlife...