The company of men

Gender is a subject that has never really interested me but it occurred to me recently that this a hot topic for many and so, as this type of realisation often triggers reflection,  I decided it was time to give it some consideration.

I suppose it is my tendency towards the factual and logical that, in part at least, has steered me away from the subject of gender.  After all, - men and women are equally capable of more or less the same feats (with the exception of the obvious biological barriers) aren't they?  The only other considerations seemed to me to be cultural, aesthetic or social ones (historical/legal/political/religious).  I have always considered that my gender was irrelevant, in all but the most fundamental sense.  

Of course, I am aware of the existence of gender bias, cultural and historical prerequisites, and of the tendency of recent years for people to self-label themselves on the 'gender spectrum'...  However, because I have never found gender to be an important factor in practically any decision I have ever made, that doesn't mean that there aren't important issues to consider.  (I am sure that others have made plenty of decisions about me based on exactly this.)  I should explain that I hold social concepts such as race and religion in similar disdain.  I can only consider them in terms of variation and the complexity of experience they bring with them.  I cannot imagine using such broad and subjective terms to make a judgement about a person.  It simply would not occur to me to favour these considerations over the specific merits of someone's suitability (for a job, a spouse, a conversation, a friend...)  What possible difference would it make if an engineer wears makeup or or has a beard?  

I must admit my view appears somewhat simplistic when I read it back.  Am I at fault, or is my simplistic view what we should all be aiming for?  

To clarify what 'gender' means to me personally, as a woman with Asperger's: An assignation which only has meaning in terms of anticipating situations when bias might occur with regard to social, historical or cultural norms, and in practical considerations. For example, the issue of a man working in a women's shelter or wearing appropriate clothing for dangerous jobs.

I have come to see that many people hold their gender identity very dear, some to the extent that it seems to define their very persona.  They celebrate their place on the spectrum of gender.  I struggle to see where I would fit on such a spectrum.  I suppose most see me as quite 'male' - I always wear trousers, but because they are practical and warm, and stop my skin burning in the summer.  (I am particularly aware of how much cheaper men's clothing is, and how much better quality the materials usually are!) However, I do wear minimal makeup and brush my hair (long - because I cannot bear the idea of visiting the hairdressers) when I go out, mainly because I don't want to attract unpleasant comment about 'not making an effort'.  (I don't really associate this with any particular gender - I just accept that I have female attributes, so I do things to fit in to that social expectation, particularly because it is a preference that my (NT) husband shares.)  Of course practical considerations outrank any of these other expectations! (I am amazed by people who will maintain their gender identity beyond all consideration of the practical - high heels on cobbled streets, a 3-piece trouser suit on stiflingly hot day, coiffured hair and eye makeup in a swimming pool etc... what dedication!)

Of course, it's not all about what you wear.   A huge amount of research has been done in this area, and it continues to be a popular discussion subject in many ways:  Does your environment determine gender?  Or is it your biology, your genes...or your brain?

I have been aware for some time of the apparent correlation between being a fairly strong systemiser (47 on Baron-Cohen's AQ scale) and my tendency towards the 'left brain' and the male stereotype:  I wear trousers, hate chatting and shopping and talking about handbags and 'celebrities'.  I was never interested in things other girls were interested in at school.  I didn't like soft toys, ponies or kittens.  Later, I even preferred beer and spirits (straight) to sweet wines and cocktails.  Even now, I like talking about aviation, space, physics and sword-fighting, and have absolutely no interest in 'Nailbars', Love Island or small fluffy dogs which appear to have no practical purpose.   I have always preferred the company of men to women.  Even when I was in school I chose only male company.  I preferred the simpler interactions - we talked about things (bugs, films, cars) not people, or relationships.  Conversations were all about the subject, practicalities, statements and physical or visual jokes.  It was much easier to follow. At college I would dread the inevitable 'girls' nights out, and avoid them wherever possible. Relationships, fashion, pets, gossip were all alien to me. I am aware of how stereotypical this sounds, but this was my experience.  Perhaps we were all responding to  the same stereotypes....

Much has been made in recent years, of the apparent oversight of diagnosing girls and women with Asperger's due to their skill at social mimicking among other things.  To clarify:  Girls don't fit in better, but they are better at 'appearing to fit in'.  Boys are more likely to 'act out' and are therefore more visible for diagnosis.  Or so the theory goes.  I don't think this is true in my case.  I acted out.  I truanted, got into fights and consequently spent the vast majority of the time on my own.  I loved dinosaurs and ancient Greek mythology and drawing scary monsters. I was visible, but my behaviour was dismissed as boredom or eccentricity, due to my academic ability.  

But does favouring the left-brain (the slower, more logical thinking brain) mean that you are more 'male'?  And does that mean you are 'less female'? (I can't help thinking of Temple Grandin here, with her wonderful deadpan delivery and shapeless country cowboy shirts.)  After all, I am a loving mother and teacher, and creative to boot.  (All seen as more right brain.)  I thought my view might change when I met other Aspie women, but I have met none like me - they seemed more able, socially, and conversation inevitably got around to hobbies and interests like crafts, and pets.  Is this because of a tendency for women to be more 'right brain'? Maybe.  It seems quite neat but, of all people, I know appearances can be deceptive... The roles that my husband and I have assumed within our relationship are not the usual 'stereotypical' gender roles:  He does the cooking,  I do the DIY.  He does the vehicle maintenance, I do the gardening.  He is the keeper of the social diary, I do the school correspondence and homework help.  We share all other responsibilities depending on the circumstances at the time.  Any type of brain can see the sense in this arrangement, surely?  It certainly works.

I think, ultimately, that gender should not and need not matter.  I see it as a useful creative tool.  It can open doors, stimulate debate and provide an identity, but it is yours to do with as you wish, so make it work for you...

The Sheephead Wrasse (Semicossyphus reticulatus) Looks aren't everything, when needs must...


Simon Baron-Cohen's article on the extreme male brain and autism.
http://cogsci.bme.hu/~ivady/bscs/read/bc.pdf

The Trust Relationship Between this Workstation and the Primary Domain has failed...

I can only apologise for the delay in posting my blog…  I wrote one for February and also for March.  I will post neither as, looking back, they were not my thoughts.  Suffice it to say that, (due to my condition (chronic migraine and allodyna) and the medication I have to take in order to function) my personality, and consequently, my outlook were altered both pharmacologically and by sleep deprivation.  I have no wish to share these experiences, and I don’t think hearing my woeful rants written during that time will be of any benefit to anyone, least of all, me. 

Despite the weather and disruption of March, things have recently become much more settled for me.  The situation at work (which was responsible for many of the difficulties of previous months) has been satisfactorily resolved.  When things looked bad, I applied for another job and was invited for interview, which I attended.  Before they finished their deliberations, the problems at work had evaporated, and I withdrew my application - this time for the right reasons. (The hours didn’t suit; the commute was a problem…  It simply wasn’t worth the move, despite my delight at the possibility of working in graphics once more.)  There were emergent opportunities in my job for including some graphics and marketing work… things were looking up.

It got me thinking about ageing.  I will be 50 later this year, and I think I am finally starting to feel comfortable in my own skin.  I still have no well-formed sense of self, but I am much more likely to consider my own needs when making decisions.  I am happy with my current work situation.  So, is this really just a plateau in the profile of peaks and troughs?  I think not. 

A little while ago, I was introduced to Erikson's theory of the Psychosocial Stages of Development.  I suppose I approached in much the same way as someone would an astrological forecast – fitting my experience to the categories and feelings, but I was quite sure, that I had not come out of this process unscathed…

There is nothing like the first flickering shadow of one’s own mortality to make you reassess your priorities.  Life, it seems, is too short.  I have had an interesting and varied work life.  I don’t need a highly paid, high pressure job.  I don’t want a long working day and short holidays so I hardly see my son.  I have other things queuing up to fill my time:  I have a book to finish with my son;  I am a director of The Different Engine; I have historical events to attend; I have paintings to paint, music to listen to, et cetera and so on…

Perhaps it is this age-earned ‘wisdom’ that was responsible for my decision not to post my previous two blog entries… The confidence to wait is something I have always felt I lacked in the past – my need for additional time to process probably played into my anxiety for not responding quickly enough, and fear; my tendency to make panicked decisions.  With hindsight, the waters were always calmer than they seemed at the time; the tempest exaggerated or wholly imagined.  

Perhaps this is the wisdom of age, or maybe a by-product of deepening trust. Trust is a fragile thing, but I have followed some excellent advice a friend gave to me several years ago: Surround yourself with kind people.   Trust is fragile, but I now realise that it gets stronger when maintained.  I have acquired a very select but extremely high quality group of friends over the last few years, and I trust them as much and more, than I have trusted anyone.  But I nearly walked away from my job when I perceived that my trust had been betrayed...  But trust must be maintained in the face of apparent betrayal, to be sure there is no solution to be achieved, no corner to be turned... Because I waited, a solution was found, an apology and a commitment made and trust was renewed.  It made me realise  just how many times I may have turned away too soon....

There is a central principle in TA. Eric Berne initiated the principle within Transactional Analysis that we are all born 'OK' — in other words, good and worthy. Frank Ernst developed these into the OK matrix, (also known as the 'OK Corral' after the famous 1881 Tombstone shootout between the Earps and the Clantons).

I realised some time ago that, for the most part, I have spent my life in the two left hand boxes, and this position is indicative of a complete lack of trust (in myself and others).  The title of my blog is "The trust relationship between this workstation and the primary domain has failed" and is the only surviving element of my discarded rants of last month.  You can imagine my metaphorical interpretation of this innocent computer error message - it was very much in line with the bottom left hand square of the matrix:  “Everything is broken and it won’t get better.”

Now that things have settled somewhat and my trust is restored, I can put my title where it belongs which is in the top right hand square of the matrix:  “Ha! That error message is a T-shirt, right there!  I’ll call IT and they’ll come and fix it”. 

Abused Amoebas and Career Correlations

I was reading an excerpt from a zoological textbook the other day about the reactions of different types of amoeba to stimulus.  (Yes - this is the sort of thing you will find in my web surfing history.  Shut up.)  It seems that amoeba, generally, rarely move because of a positive stimulus.  (Towards things.) It follows that most of the experiments described involved annoying the amoeba with various negative stimuli and provoking movement. (Away from things.) After I stopped feeling sorry for the amoeba, it struck me that I had something in common with them.

It's been a long time since I had to start a new job.  I began my current employ at the end of 2009, and so, this is as long as I have held any job.  My length of employ in my various jobs has depended on all sorts of things in the past: from the effects of global financial crises, to dodgy contractual practices by employers that left me significantly out of pocket and on the end of a long list of creditors.  Only twice in the 11 jobs I have held, (As a graphic designer, Photographer, Technical illustrator, Administrator, Office Manager, IT Technician, Technical Author, Marketing Manager and Cover Supervisor,) have I chosen to leave.  And then, only because the stress of the situation has begun to effect my health.

It is in the nature of people with Asperger's to work hard.  After all, most things about everyday life are hard for us.  By most things, I mean all the stuff that is relatively easy for NTs.  (Chatting, socialising, networking, building relationships, finding advocates, friends and allies, navigating office or organisational politics.) The things that most NTs find hard:  being focused on work; wading through piles of boring, difficult or unsavoury tasks; learning new and difficult procedures and skills, staying motivated; is relatively easy for us.

Where people like me come unstuck, is that point where we need some support, help or recognition for our work and we look up from our narrow focus and find there's nobody there.  Because we haven't spent our time socialising, building those relationships, finding our allies and advocates, we have to rely on the formal organisational structure, as is. As anyone can attest, this alone is rarely adequate and sometimes even, shockingly, not always in the employee's favour.  It reminds me a little of what it was like during my maternity leave after having my son, Charley.  Finding myself alone with a new baby...  just the two of us, music, the park and a bunch of books:  (The idea of going to 'mums groups' or 'baby massage classes' filled me with absolute terror.)

But this seems to be a fate shared by of many of the people I have since met who have managed to secure regular employment, and who are on the spectrum.  Their remarkable skills and work ethic go unnoticed, simply because they don't know how to get them to register with their colleagues and employers...  The widely proclaimed CPD programmes seem in principle to be diametrically opposed to the 'one-size fits all' mentality of their actual content... and the forms!  They are anathema to the logical mind of an Aspie. The whole thing actually works against us, making us appear 'difficult' and 'unhelpful', when nothing could be further from the truth.  In fact, I think this is probably the most hurtful thing I could be accused of, simply because I try so hard to achieve the opposite outcome.

After discussions with several of the people I will be working with in my new job, I have much more confidence that they understand this.  They are aware of my Asperger's, the skills and strengths that it affords me, and the accommodations that they will need to make for me (some flexibility when it comes to CPD and conferences (large, noisy gatherings in strange places).  For many of us, our work is really our only 'social' contact, and what we do there is how we reach out to people.  It is up to our colleagues and employers to notice that, and accept the offer.  They would certainly not be disappointed if they did.

I digress, and do so because I have to go and write the obligatory 'goodbye email' to fulfil my social duties.  It seems awkward and pointless...  I have no wish to rant about my reasons for leaving, or single anyone out for particular thanks - this I have already done, in person. I see no purpose in throwing out more of the bland and meaningless platitudes that litter the daily lives of teachers.  I expect no card, no presentation, no celebration of my contribution of the last 7 years, which does sadden me, but it's a dusty, old and familiar sadness.  No, I'll leave quietly as usual.  After all, haven't I heard somewhere that it's better to speak softly and wear a loud shirt?

Amoeba Proteus, formerly known as Chaos Diffluens (I wonder why the change...?  Perhaps it's in Witness Protection....)

The hits keep coming...

So, has the bubble burst?  Has my new-found validity run out of steam?  Met it's match?  Died a death? The answer is most assuredly: No.

Indeed, I have put it to the test.  I have thrown everything I can think of at it:  There have been social events, stressful health issues, concerns about the educational future of my son (SATs and Secondary Schools), and the most potentially incendiary of all: A meeting with Senior Leadership at my school: (a second attempt at an abortive OH follow-up meeting that led to a very public meltdown...)

I had given it much thought, of course; (don't we always?) the reasons why this meeting ended so quickly and so disastrously...  The unexpected venue of the large conference room next to the Principal's office... the equally unexpected attendance of my line manager and a representative of the School Federation's HR department, as well as the one person I had expected.  As they began to go through the points raised in my OH report, I immediately began to feel defensive, hearing demands instead of questions, ultimatums instead of realities.  I felt tears prickle at my eyes as the panic rose, and that was that.  Less than 5 minutes and the rest of the day spent agonising about how annoyed everyone would be at me, that they had arranged this meeting and made the time... etc. etc.

Weeks passed, and so did the TA 101 part 2, (where my husband's TA Epiphany took place) and where validation was achieved, despair was mislaid...  Then came the email:  Would I like to meet up and try this follow-up meeting again?

Was I stricken with terror?  Did I arrange to be absent?  Did I refuse, saying it wouldn't be necessary?  No.  Not only did I agree, but, when the meeting details were sent - I asked for them to be changed:  Could we meet somewhere less formal?  Could it just be the two of us?  Of course, this was accepted, because they are reasonable requests.  I was very pleased with myself indeed.

When the meeting came around, the atmosphere was entirely different.  I asked that we omit the blow-by-blow account on the OH report, in favour of an informal discussion about things I found difficult at work.  I talked about the lack of interaction with my line manager, my difficulty with networking.  I spoke confidently about what I have to offer, and my frustration at not being able to communicate it.  I spoke about the shame I feel that I have to ask for explicit, verbal feedback because I cannot rely on picking it up through non-verbal cues common in the professional relationships most of the staff here share, (mainly because this is often misinterpreted as needy or egotistical.)  As the conversation went on, the panic never materialised... I felt almost equal, justified, calm, articulate - my vocabulary did not desert me.  I voiced my suggestions and they were not dismissed.  There was no awkward end to the meeting.  We were just two colleagues walking to our next appointments and casually finishing a conversation ignited by our discussion.

I realise the only thing that has changed is my attitude towards myself.  My ability to understand non-verbal communication has not improved miraculously, I have not become more confident, more social, observant...  No.  And the hits keep coming. But I now know that other people can understand my world, and that gives me validity.  Therefore my thoughts, words, feelings and actions must be valid:  This upturn in my professional fortunes is merely the result of my analytical mind applying new knowledge to an existing situation.

But it changes everything.

In a different light: A full-disk multiwavelength extreme ultraviolet image of the sun taken by SDO on March 30, 2010. False colors trace different gas temperatures. Reds are relatively cool (about 60,000 Kelvin, or 107,540 F); blues and greens are hotter (greater than 1 million Kelvin, or 1,799,540 F).
Credits: NASA/Goddard/SDO AIA Team

Reciprocate or cooperate?

I am currently writing a book.  This is a collaboration with my son who's just turned eleven.  It's the most recent in a long series of collaborations with him on a number of different projects - most of them, unplanned.  For years, he has drawn fantastical beasts and regaled me with tales from an imaginary world.  We have a sketchbook where he draws his scenes and beasts, and I work on them in pen adding detail and lifting them from the paper with texture, shading and contrast.  I enjoy this process, but could never provide the initial ideas - I am creative, but not imaginative in the true sense. It is he who is the true creator. I am pleased that people enjoy the pictures, and I am particularly taken with their reaction to the level of detail.  I find repetition calming, and the process of filling a page with tiny orderly lines and dots, the antithesis of the difficult, time consuming and agonizingly boring task that most assume it to be.  My answer to the ubiquitous "How long did that take???!!" is "Not long enough".  My eye sees only error and perfection, efficiency and inefficiency, pattern and interruption. 

We follow the same division of work when we are writing:  He provides the story, the characters and the descriptions and ideas, and I impose order through structure and vocabulary, and style through visualisation and detailed description. It is a true and equal Partnership, with both parties cooperating and each providing something the other cannot (yet - I know he will learn).  Reciprocation happens naturally as part of the process of collaboration.

It occurred to me that similar "Partnerships" have been forged throughout my working life, in lieu of friendships, that are much more difficult and complicated to navigate... As someone with such a woeful record in friendship, I am, I realised, actually pretty good at forming partnerships.  I am a Designer:  A problem solver.  To do my best work, I need a problem (the bigger, and more complex, the better).  In the absence of such stimulation, I can be 'peripheral' like a machine waiting, dormant, in standby mode, for input.   This is poor fodder for friendships that require regular maintenance and reciprocation.  My strengths in this regard are welcomed in a crisis, but not in the everyday.

I find very few people easy to get on with.  Those, whose company I do enjoy, are either very similar to me (statistically, very unlikely) or the complete opposite to me (very empathetic). Working, as I did for many years, in Environmental Consultancy was perfect for me - giving me access to the to difficult IT and data problems I desired, the highly technical minds of the scientists and engineers and the immensely empathetic personalities of the environmental experts and ecologists, and I worked successfully on myriad projects from around the globe.

I recently asked my husband to take the standard tests (available online) that are used as part of the assessment process in diagnosing ASDs; The Autistic Quotient (AQ), Empathetic Quotient (EQ) and the Systemising Quotient (SQ) tests.  I filled in the same tests (there are different versions available) to provide some context.  Our scores were telling:
SQ: His score was 37 out of a possible 80, mine was 60
EQ: His score was 58 out of a possible 80, mine was 7
AQ: His score was 13 out of a possible 50, mine was 47

This certainly fits the pattern of 'exactly the same or completely different'.  Although it appears my criteria for a successful partner is easier to find in professional circles, it makes me immensely grateful for those relationships (like my marriage) that are found and forged elsewhere...

Fitting a square peg into a round hole is possible, 

but it helps to have the brightest minds in NASA working on it.

How I learned to stop worrying and love Facebook

I have, in the past, been guilty of disparaging comments about social media.  I have poured buckets of vitriol on what I saw as the enemies of Tim Berners-Lee's dream of the Internet - the voyeuristic and inflammatory nonsense, the sheer inaccuracy of so much of the content, the disproportionate amount of spare time people seem to have for dross-creation, and pointless online activities.  I can hardy bring myself to type the phrase "cat videos".  If I am honest, and I always am, those narrow views are still firmly held, with one exception.

Sit down and have a swig of that stiff drink - I'm going to praise social media, well one bit of it anyway.

I took the plunge and set up a Facebook profile after taking voluntary redundancy.  Facebook was, at the time, said to be a powerful marketing tool, and I was about to try and go into business for myself.  I failed to grasp, however, that it was an excellent marketing tool for people who knew how to use it. When I found out I would have to initiate and maintain all manner of online relationships and cultivate a client-base, I was scared rigid and immediately deleted my account.  My venture was doomed before it started.

It was years later, on a particularly cold and blustery day in May in the seaside town of Brixham, that the whole Facebook debacle came to mind once more.  We were in Brixham to scuba dive, but the weather had scuppered us again (you get used to this as UK scuba divers) so we decided to head into town and check out the new "Pirate Festival" (whatever that was!)  My husband and young son thought it was great... me, less so.  It appeared to be an opportunity for lots of people to dress up as pirates and hang around together.  There was to be a record attempt, that we could, apparently join in:  The Largest Number of 'Pirates' in One Location.  You had to be sporting an eye patch and hook/sword to qualify, which we promptly bought from a local shop. Good fun and frostbite were had by all (I was a bit bemused by it all) and we all agreed to come back next year with better costumes.

Six years later and we have a crowded diary of historical maritime reenactment events to attend over the summer.  We have serious, period-correct handmade accouterments and a broad knowledge of the politics, maritime history and society of the late 18th Century.  We know more than we probably should about gunpowder (black powder, in these circles) and the weighting of swords.  And we have tremendous fun pretending to fight some pesky fellows in red coats, among canon and musket fire.

I have also revived my Facebook account in order to 'keep in contact' with the fellow re-enactors I meet. I began using it merely to share photos of events, but it has become much more over time.  I have developed the beginnings of what could be called friendships.  I find I share a similarly eclectic sense of humour with many of them, an appreciation of history, costume or engineering with some, physical acting with others.  There would also appear to be a larger than average proportion of Aspies represented.  My interactions are made much easier by the prompts of Facebook, and typing my responses gives me time to analyse what people might mean, and develop decent conversations.  I'm pretty sure I'm forming relationships, and I look forward to seeing how they continue.  Even better, Facebook also allows me to weed out those contacts that I do not have anything in common with, and I don't even have to risk a face to face.

I don't think it's uncommon for people on the fringes of society to find common ground, but I had underestimated the usefulness of social media in helping me and those like me, socialise.  I had considered it a waste of bandwidth, fit only for those with verbal diarrhoea or a bizarre need to publicise every aspect of their lives (however dull or offensive) to everyone else.

Of course there are those who would use this data for evil commercial purposes, but I guess most of us are just trying to keep in touch.  So thank you Mr Zuckerberg, and sorry for all the bad press!

A special sort of kind

I heard some excellent advice recently; this from someone who's judgement I have come trust in a remarkably short time.  He said : "Surround yourself with kind people."  This chimed with another piece of advice I read many years ago; a little snippet of wisdom from Ashleigh Brilliant: "Be kind to unkind people - they need it the most."

A little background....  A friend (and I use that phrase accurately for the first time in many years) was involved in a workshop/seminar about transactional analysis (TA)  which will probably be meaningless to many, but not so to psychotherapists of any ilk.  I first came across the idea years ago, after a recommendation from a psychiatrist led me to Eric Berne's book "The Games People Play" which seeks to demystify the mechanics of social interaction.  It did so, firstly, by identifying "Ego States" such as the 'Parent', the 'Child' and the 'Adult'.  The book was interesting, but I found the practise of using the theory to structure my interactions difficult and tiring.

I looked at the slides my friend was hoping to use during this workshop, and found them interesting. However, I didn't really see anything groundbreaking, mainly because I assumed, (incorrectly) that this was the same sort of thing as the ideas set out in Berne's book all those years ago.  I had recently had an exhibition of my work in central Bristol, and the Evening Post had done a story about it, with regard to Asperger's.  My friend asked to borrow a couple of pictures to take to his workshop to demonstrate the detail-oriented and systemising nature of the Asperger's brain.  I agreed and offered to help in any way I could at future workshops.

The workshop was a great success, and another was swiftly organised.  I was invited to attend in the capacity of co-presenter, which inferred a level of participation I wasn't sure I was ready to provide, but I was intrigued and went along...  I'd offered my help, after all.

That's how I ended up in a comfortable study, discussing TA with two PHD engineers, both trained in TA and one of them; a leading practitioner in using TA as a tool for psychologists working with Asperger's clients.  I could count on one hand the number of NT people who I have met in my lifetime with a detailed understanding of the nature and effects of Asperger's.  To meet someone who (despite being NT) has such an insight into the neurological differences, and the consequences of life with Asperger's, is exceptional.  To attend the workshop created by Rich Hall and Peter Flowerdew, and see the theories explained, and see them translated for NT and Aspie alike, is profound.  It is this inability to understand one another's worlds that is the root of much of the anxiety and frustration surrounding NT/Aspie communication.

I should pause here, to acknowledge the overwhelming kindness I experienced during this weekend. I would say it was a rare privilege, but that would be incorrect, as I have never experienced the like: A room of people who were genuinely interested in my experience, who were sensitive to my sensitivities and appreciative of my honesty.  They called me brave and extraordinary, and made me believe it.  They were a special sort of kind, and I include Peter and Rich in this description.  I was truly moved.

It's taken me a long time to process everything I saw and learned at the workshop, and I'm still absorbing and evaluating some of it.  However, it is clear to me now that the key to NTs and Aspie's understanding each other is the architecture of language.  This workshop centres on the different world-views of Aspies and NT and appears to cut straight to the key differences in the way we experience - everything.  It manages to translate these theories so that they can be used by NT therapists who are desperate to better understand and help their Aspie clients.

I won't go into details, as I am no expert, but one part in particular struck a chord that has kept me thinking on it ever since.  That is the striking realisation that the traditionally understood "Ego State" Models differ markedly for Aspies and NTs.  One particular slide which made a lasting impression, was that of a diagram showing the transaction of  conversation that I recognised from any number of exchanges with ex-employers.  The Parent and Child ego states take much from learned past experiences, and the Adult state is purely based in the present.  The way it is expected to go sees the Parent (Boss) asking the Child (employee) to do a task.  The Child is expected to respond to the Parent, (a parallel interaction) however, in Aspies, it is the Adult that responds, confusing the now 'Disparaging Parent' (Boss), and eliciting an assumption of a response from a 'Petulant Child' (employee being difficult and disrespectful), and not the 'Adult' state response it actually was. The startling connection that has made here, is that there really is no Parent or Child ego state for Aspies.  We really only interact in the Adult state.  This of course would cause enormous confusion in social interaction, and clearly does.  It was immediately clear to me that is is the dynamic behind many of the failed interviews, premature redundancies and abortive social interactions that have plagued my entire adult life.

This is surely worthy of much study, and as if to prove the point, workshop bookings are increasing exponentially.  I am keen to pursue this and help in whatever way I can, as it seems to be a huge leap along the way to mutual understanding between Aspie and NT, and promises more natural interaction without the expectation of the Aspie conforming to NT models.

To put it another way: "There is common ground, it's just not where we thought it was, so put down the net and the cattle prod, and let's talk..."  And it's the kind people who will oblige first...

Learning with the Experts

When I explain to people that I have Aspergers, the response can be somewhat polarised.  I am met either with a knowing smile and a slow nod, (as if this is mere confirmation of a long suspected fact) or with utter consternation and denial.  However, both camps can easily be united in disbelief when I mention the fact that I work in a school.  With teenagers.  Front of Class. As a cover teacher.  And in my spare time, help out at my son's primary school and with the local Cubs and Scouts.

It's too noisy, surely?  Too much social interaction?  How can you empathise?  Communicate?  Too stressful? What? No timetable?  Constant change?  Different students and different subjects every lesson?  Nobody on the Autistic spectrum would choose to do this!

I suppose it does seem strange, but let me explain:  I like working with kids.  I prefer to spend my time talking to kids than to adults.  Kids make much more sense.  They are honest (to a fault, like me).  They prefer honesty, but if they do lie, then it can't be hidden (like me).  They are full of wonder and curiosity (like me).  Their potential knows no bounds. They are brave, have amazing resilience, humour and kindness.  They do not judge.  They can always change their minds.  They don't dismiss anything as boring or valueless without trying it out.  They feel everything keenly and react honestly, feeding back instantly.  I could go on and on.

I love learning - It's essential to me, and I will never stop.  To be around people who are as honest as me, as open as me, as full of wonder as me, as fallible as me, as energetic as me, as silly as me (as anyone who knows me and my penchant for giant inflatables can testify!), and as much fun as a barrel of puppies, too - well. It makes adults seem a stuffy lot..

Ah, but those of you who know my previous incarnation of 'Graphics Specialist' working in Environmental Engineering, will wonder why I haven't always worked with kids...  Well, I worked with scientists then, and in my book, that's almost the same thing:  Wonder... curiosity... lack of social sophistication... sound familiar?

Yes of course, it's exhausting, yes it can be frustrating, heartbreaking, infuriating, but at school and cubs, I can be myself with the kids, and I know where I stand with them.  They don't placate, humiliate, undermine, dismiss.  They praise when they are impressed, they criticize when they are not.  It is clear to me when I have inspired them, when I have upset them, when I have amused them, when I've made a difference to them, and I collect the experiences eagerly.  It is easier than being around adults, and I learn more from them than I can in adult company.  I am learning about social interaction as they do - It is more inspiring than anything I have ever done, and when I see them growing up and learning how to manage in the world, it gives me hope for myself.

Charley shows off his Viking ship homework

Who am I to judge?

I was recently received a rather unexpected invitation from my old Art Club.  I was asked if I'd like to come along and be judge for their Annual Art Exhibition.  Oh, and by the way, if I could see my way to providing a short workshop on pastel work at a later date, then that would be lovely, too.  I agreed straight away; flattered and surprised, as I always am when someone unexpectedly acknowledges my existence in a positive way...   Of course, once I had sufficient time to really process the request to  judge the artworks, I began to panic:  Questions like "I'm not a professional artist... how am I qualified to judge?"  I was a member here just a year or two back... how am I any better now?" and "I don't know anything about art" all clamoured for the top reason why I should renege on my agreement.

I have a long and illustrious history of agreeing first, considering the repercussions after, and then panicking at an exponential rate at the event draws closer.  It is, I have learnt, an excellent way to experience new, sometimes challenging situations that I would not otherwise attempt.  Sometimes I agree to things that don't benefit me in any way, and have, in the past, agreed to things that have been damaging to me.  It's a bit high-stress, I'll grant you, but if I start thinking about something, then you can forget it.  I should pause, about now, to apologise to my long-suffering husband who has borne the brunt of many such situations and who has always stalwartly seen me through the frantic run-up to such events.

(I should also let you in on the chuckle I'm currently having at my own expense - I just spent 20 minutes looking for a suitable alternative to 'run-up' in several online and hard copy thesauruses, and am now late leaving work.  See what I mean about the thinking?)

I knew I couldn't back out, and I really did want to visit my old club...  I had first joined at the suggestion of psychologists running the post-diagnosis group I attended, with a view to engaging in 'structured socialising', which is much easier than the usual method (which I usually refer to as 'cold calling').  Everyone at the club was pleasant and welcoming, and they made it much easier than I had any right to expect.  I had wanted an opportunity to thank them for this, and here it was...

I wrote a short speech explaining what the club had meant to me, and wrote suitable appropriate generic paragraphs filled with glowing praise for all the various elements of what I considered the fundamentals of quality art (thank goodness for that single year of A level History of Art I completed, and Mr Berger for 'Permanent Red'!), and left gaps for additional information I would fill in when I had seen the exhibition.  I found out the categories for which I was expected to find winners and runners-up.  My intention was to leave as little to do as possible on the night. (Spontaneity is a minefield for me with my slow processing for social interaction... You will not get an honest impression, as you might expect from an NT being spontaneous... you'll just get a carefully rehearsed show - I need notice to be spontaneous!)

On the night, I found the decision-making easy, as expected:  I am nothing if not practical, and my objectivity, and lack of bias goes without question.  I asked my husband to review my choices, simply to make sure I had not inadvertently chosen pictures too similar in style or by the same artist.  I gave my speech, adding comments relevant to the individual works, gave out the prizes, shook hands, finished my wine, and that was it. Done.  And everyone got out alive.

I am patently aware that many of these situations actually pass without incident, and I am equally aware that most of the people around me can see the potential for this clearly.  It pains me to confess that I simply cannot see things from this perspective until after the event.  Then, everyone's' confidence becomes perfectly clear, and I feel terribly foolish.  You'd think I'd learn, wouldn't you? The problem is: I don't.  Because I'm not NT.  No matter how many positive outcomes I have, this never gets any easier. I never become more assured of success, but I do notice one change:  I allow myself to be talked into things that might be good for me that little bit more often.  A small, incremental step, but nevertheless, in the right direction...

Interestingly, the thought of carrying out an hour's workshop in front of 20 people watching my every move and interrogating me on my technique doesn't bother me at all...

Friends with benefits

I recently attended a workshop hosted by BASS (Bristol Autistic Spectrum Service) on Friendship. Hearing others' definitions of friends, and hearing about their expectations and experiences was sobering. Friendship is something I have coveted for as long as I can remember, but it has always eluded me.  I have watched; enchanted and bemused in equal parts, as people perform their social dances around one another, but I always have the feeling that this is not for me.

I have difficulties with the most simple elements of the dance...  Compliments, reciprocation, interest and recall of important events, facts and anniversaries all present potentially friendship-ending problems for me.  I do want to have friendships, and I have attempted them, but even when the exchanges seem effortless, the sense of foreboding is palpable...  "Don't get too comfortable", warns The Voice: "It'll all go wrong eventually."

And so it does.  I am undecided on whether this is self-fulfilling prophecy, mechanical error or sheer inevitability, nor am I entirely sure the differentiation matters.  I have waited patiently for the friendship which becomes seamlessly 'intuitive', but it has never materialised.  Failure after failure (usually my own fault) has taught me a lesson that is hard to ignore:  I do myself, and others, less damage if I don't have friends.

I suspect that some might balk at this - after all, it's an effort for everyone isn't it?  You'd be right to question it, but there is a caveat.  If it was purely just hard work, I would achieve it.  I work very hard.  At everything.  There is nothing that I don't try my best at - it's just my nature.  But friendships are not just about me...

The aspect that concerns me most is the possibility of really hurting someone else; achieving the opposite of what you intended.  People's social circles are complex and pitfalls lie in wait around every corner.  Nothing scares me quite as much as the prospect of making and then losing friends. None of the maintenance required for friendship occurs to me intuitively, so the risks of alienating or hurting someone are heightened.  My sensitivities are also heightened, and the idea of losing a friend because of something I have said or done is devastating to me.  People who I could call friends have been so few and far between, the prospect of failure generates a fear so great that the isolating alternative seems safer. I know I have inadvertently hurt people I considered friends before, and undoubtedly will again.  No different to anyone, you think?

The difference is, that there will be no explanation forthcoming to bring the friendship back from the brink - I will not have realised what I did, and people who have been hurt will rarely feel like spelling it out..
The difference is, I will feel shame so keenly that I will probably never have the courage to speak to that person again.
The difference is, I cannot afford to lose friends - it is far too great an investment for me.

So what does friendship with me entail?  Only the most tenacious sorts will get past the first hurdle, better known as 'getting me to realise that you are interested in being my friend'.  (After scaring everyone away for a number of years, I can be very slow to interpret these messages.)
The next step can take forever, so make yourself comfortable.   I am unlikely to accept any invitations to go out for coffee, or meet up in any sense.  I need to gather data.  (Don't worry - this doesn't mean hacking your Facebook account or stalking of any kind!) This might entail a period of email exchanges on a range of subjects.  I cannot make those intuitive judgements, that come so naturally to NTs, in a few short face to face meetings, nor a few texts or a Facebook comments.

Think of this less as a test and more as a reality check: Anyone who loses patience with this process is never going to make it in the long run.  It's a way for people to get out before they invest too much. In all honesty, anyone wishing to be a good friend of mine (not just a casual acquaintance) has to be prepared for a long and frustrating road:  I will forget Birthdays, anniversaries, dinner dates... you name it.  It will not occur to me ask you how you are, how your family is, how your job interview went.  I will say tactless things about your outfit, your behaviour, your family. But...

I will apologise genuinely and unreservedly if you tell me where I went wrong, and I will sincerely try to learn from it. I will never stop trying to be a better friend.  I will be a loyal supporter and fierce defender.  I will always seek to lighten your spirit and make you laugh. I will always be honest.  I will never be boring.

Of course, I will also try to teach you all about Quantum Physics... which is a good thing, dammit!

Especially Interesting...

There are a number of well known characteristics associated with Aspies. (Those who know me personally will know how long it has taken me to reconcile my feelings about using the word "Aspie" but I suppose there is no denying that it takes less time to type.)

The media tends to focus on the easily characterised traits such as social awkwardness, capacity of long term memory, talents and 'Special Interests.' It is indeed the case that some are exceptional at maths; some can memorise huge quantities of numerical data (historical dates, the digits of Pi, train timetables etc.)  But we are not all savants or exceptional in the eyes of our peers.

I have 'Special Interests' like most Aspies.  Mine are numerous, but all share an important characteristic: They are have complexity and there is a lot of detailed information available to absorb from lots of different sources.  This means that when I research the subject I can do so exhaustively, and this can keep me busy for a great deal of time.  (Anyone hoping to intimidate me with a huge pile of repetitive detailed work is going to be disappointed.)  I have no control over what piques my interest - often they are subjects unlikely to come up in general conversation, and they are as likely to reflect my abilities or aptitudes as not - Theoretical Mathematics for instance.  My poor working memory for numbers means I will never be able to calculate anything but basic sums, but I enjoy reading at length about concepts like sets of infinities and imaginary numbers.

Those who know me will be aware that I will try to crowbar the subject of quantum physics into conversation at will (after all, it is relevant to every subject in some way!) or I may interject hopefully about the meaning of a prefix or common word, followed by a treatise on it's origin and evolution.  I have amassed an encyclopedic (if incomplete) knowledge of many subjects to various levels of detail. Sadly none of them are the subjects that work well in informal chatter.  Even when I talk about the weather, I feel bound to use the correct cloud classifications and wax lyrical about how global climate change is affecting El Niño.

Airing these interests in public can be problematic.  People can feel intimidated when unfamiliar with the subject and may seek to extricate themselves at the first opportunity.  This is usually the point at which my 'conversation assassin' (enthusiasm) leaps in, pinning the hapless participant until it becomes clear that they are no longer 'participating' or have left without my noticing their departure. Enthusiasm occurs either in a desperate attempt to reengage the participant, or simply because the temptation to blurt out vast sections of the knowledge, which brought me such pleasure to acquire, is simply too great... So, my sincere apologies to any of my victims and, if it's any consolation, I hope at least you learned something! (Commence squirming at my utter tactlessness!)

Hmmm - the infinite variety in atmospherics... 

Anxiety Rules (First posted 9th January 2016)

I worry about things a lot.  This can make me seem pessimistic and paranoid, but it is something I struggle to control.  It’s something that has been with me for as long as I can remember. Whenever I had an unsatisfactory exchange with a family member, another student, or teacher at school, (a misunderstanding, perhaps, or failure to notice and comment on a new haircut) I would worry for days, if not weeks about it, literally losing sleep over it, and it would often lead to my avoiding the person in question thereafter.  

Equally, if I had a pleasant and successful exchange, (a long conversation with someone who shared one of my interests, for instance) I would soon begin to worry about the potential for a misunderstanding (on my part) to bring about the end of a burgeoning friendship, leaving someone I cared about hurt and confused.  I am blessed with a singularly vivid imagination and the graphic nightmares that accompany this anxiety are cinematic in nature.  This anxiety, this self-doubt has never left me and still colours every exchange.

This fear is an issue that is well known among people with Asperger’s, and it can be crippling.  I am lucky in that I have people to help me to find the courage to keep trying: I have the support and understanding of my wonderful husband who’s outgoing personality continues to put opportunity after opportunity for socialising in my path.  I also have the added incentive to be a strong and confident role model for my son.

Decoding everyday exchanges in a purely intellectual way is extremely hard work and riddled with danger.  (This is the reason for my usual frown of concentration; putting on a smile is just another thing I have to remember.)  I work in a large school and have to tackle hundreds of such exchanges every day.  Granted, it is easier with children, as they are usually more honest, predictable and transparent in their exchanges than are adults. To engage at all, I have had to become a student of language myself (researching colloquialisms, idioms, turns of phrase, body language and the like.)  Unfortunately, I didn’t realise until after I had embarked on this course of action, that learning to ‘navigate’ creates a vicious circle of its own:  The better you cope, the less understanding people show when things go wrong.  The longer you can keep up; the more ‘normal’ you appear, the more likely that misunderstandings will be judged as willful or deliberately hurtful.   It is EXHAUSTING.  

The endlessly sophisticated and ingenious intricacy of human communication navigated intuitively by neuro-typicals is mind-boggling.  Most people can have no awareness of the sheer volume of observations, decisions, judgments made,  hints, clues, signals given in a matter of seconds during a casual chat.  It is an enormous barrier to understanding those of us who do not possess this intuition.   It was this realisation that led me think more about the handful of people that I can truthfully call ‘friends’, and appreciate the patience they show and efforts they make in merely putting up with me!  Not giving myself enough credit, you think…?  No.  I have no illusions about that. I am patently aware how different things might have been…

Anyone with Asperger’s will know about the ever-present companion to anxiety: Depression.  It is a constant battle not to give up the effort, close the door and surrender to self pity, exhaustion and the inevitable spiral into depression.  I have had many periods of deep, damaging depression in my life, and I am immensely proud and pleased that I have not had a major episode for the four years since my diagnosis.

I am sorry if this post seems to concentrate too much on the negative, but that is a necessity when you discuss feelings like fear, doubt, anxiety and depression.  They are an ever-present part of my reality.  Don’t worry! I will write another post shortly about some of the amazing gifts and joys that also share my everyday life.