Writer's Showcase: Samuel Traineer

My name is Samuel and I am 14 and in the ninth grade but home schooled. My mom thought I would learn a lot if I had to help other people. So she told me I had to come up with a project to help a needy group of people. The assignment was to help improve the lives of needy people. I have decided to help kids with autism because I have Asperger's syndrome.

I know how important a service animal can be, I have a service cat named “Hub”. He is actually my second service cat. My first one, Faith-Elizabeth, died about four years ago. She helped distract me when I got angry, she played with me, she helped me work out what I was going to say to my mom and other people. Now I have Hub and he does those things. Faith and Hub made me finally belong to my family. We had something in common, we all loved Hub and Faith.

That's why I have decided to start a service cat training program for kids with autism, kids like me. I'm not a parent of an autistic kid, I am an autistic kid. We are alone and we live in a world where no one understands us. I don't know how you feel but I know what my world looks like. Everyday I struggle to make sense of what other people say to me. I have watched my mom cry before when she gets too frustrated because she thinks I don't understand. I get upset then because I don't know why she cries. I wonder what I did wrong. But then she grabs Hub and hands him to me and she stops crying and I calm down. Hub is something we share. He helps me but he helps us be a family also. That's why I have to train other cats for kids. Every kid like me deserves to belong. You can visit my website at www.freewebs.com/tenerekingdom. There are instructions there about how you can help me with my project.

Writer's Showcase: Jessica Brady

My name is Jessica, I am 25 years old. I have autism.

I attend college and have a 3.5 G.P.A. as well as being on the National Dean's List and Phi Theta Kappa Honor Society. I bowl for the Special Olympics as well. I am also married. Even though I have achieved these things, and it may sound to you that I am normal, I'm not. I struggle to cook, clean, take care of myself. I don't talk very much, I rock, I spin, and I flap. Even though I struggle, I don't let it stop me. I depend on my uncle and aunt to help me everyday.

My husband has been through a lot for me and with me. I never met a person who was willing to love me, be with me, and be my best friend despite my disability. My typical day depends so much on others: when I wake up my uncle helps me to eat, dress, and drive to our errands. I stay with him during the day because I am unable to work. (Even though I attend college, work is too much for me to handle with my many sensory issues.)

Once evening comes, my husband comes home. He cooks, helps me shower, and the day starts over again the next morning. I know it puts a lot of stress on my family because of my autism, I don't have the words to express to them in a voice and so I write, type, and point to them to show them how much they mean to me. I wrote a poem on what it is to be in a world of my own:

I live in a world all of my own.
But I am not lonely.
I may not smile, but I'm happy.
I may not cry, but at times I'm sad.
I might have tantrums, but I don't know why I can't control them.
I like certain foods, textures, clothes, sounds, and temperatures, but I like to try new things.
I may not say much at times, but I'm always thinking.
I like rules, boundaries, routines, they help me to stay focused, even when brain isn't.
I may not look at you because at times I can't get my eyes to make contact, but I'm listening to every word.
I may walk away at times, but I'm not being rude, I just need time to regroup myself.
I don't like a lot of lights, people, noises, or too much stimulation, but I like to go out and to new places.
I am autism and I live in a world of my own.
I am autistic but all I need is love.
One day they will find a cure, one day there might be more help, till then I live in a world of my own, a place where I'm free to be me.

The poem displays what it feels like to have autism. I may never be normal, but I never let it stop me. I hope one day that there will be help for children as well as adults. America should remember our autistic children of today turn into autistic adults of tomorrow.

Writer's Showcase: Matthew Ehrenhaft

Matthew is fifteen years old and a freshman in North Port High School in Florida. He was diagnosed with Asperger's Syndrome at the age of five. He is in mainstream classes and recently started writing poetry as an outlet.

Autism

If at first you do not succeed,
Try, try again to get to the lead
But sometimes in life it's hard to succeed,
Especially with autism, a problem indeed.

Let's start the story
At the beginning of the clock
It's almost as though
My brain has a lock.

It's like living on the edge
When no one is there,
Deaf, beaten, and vision impaired.
It's hard to deal with autism, it's true
But others like me, they deal with it too

Just because we're different in the way we see
And the way we see is differently
That we can still live a life that's very happy
Or live a life of eternal misery.

Our life is like a coaster, up and down,
Either too high or too low, no middle ground
When you try to find peace,
It can never be found
Either way, destruction bound.

It runs in vibrato, which is fast and slow
Like being drunk as some people know
A time bomb at times, getting ready to blow
Or a freezing river that does not flow.

If autism were normal, personalities might glow
Sadly our problems are major, they will never go
Some are moody, some get mad,
Some stay happy, some stay sad.

Itching and nervous, caught in this curse
Only intensify the pain to worse
However the brightest in the bunch
Actually have something like this
For people to understand, that is my wish

Some are so accurate, they will never miss
Others just stare, a boo and a hiss
For they don't know the curse we endure
When they do this, we suffer more

We know we're different, they know we're here
I have feelings, and they will appear
Even though they may seem different, or even weird
Don't laugh at our autism, and please be sincere.

There's one more thing I have to say,
There are more of us born each day.
People should notice who we are, today
And look at us in a different way

Maybe one day we'll all be free
But we're still unique, as you can see
One day autism will have a key
To unlock and complete this mystery.

Autistic poet gives rare glimpse into mystery illness

(CNN) -- Tito Mukhopadhyay shuffles to the front door of his home in Austin, Texas. He's coming home from school, something that would have been unthinkable just a few years ago.

His mother, 45-year-old Soma Mukhopadhyay, is considered a pioneer in a breakthrough treatment for some autistic children who face the stigma of being considered "mentally retarded."

That was a label Soma never accepted for 19-year-old Tito. And after hearing Tito's story, you'll never look at an autistic child the same way.

"How was your day?" Soma asks.

Before Tito can answer, he obsessively moves around the house, placing the TV remote in its proper place, arranging the salt and pepper shakers just so. Then he sits down in front of his specially designed keyboard to type his response.

"It was like a floating kangaroo that kept itself invisible," Tito answers.

Tito's cryptic reply is part of his medical condition. But his distinctive way of speaking is also a gift that has made him famous in a misunderstood community. Watch Tito interact with his mother »

Though Tito is virtually mute, that changes when he picks up a pencil to write, or begins tapping at his keyboard.

He is a poet, and the author of several books and essays in which he eloquently describes what it's like to be autistic.

In his writings, he explains why he doesn't make eye contact, what it is like to be obsessed with a ceiling fan, and how his brain has trouble processing sound, touch and sight all at once.

Experts confirm Tito's observations of autism. One doctor described it as the way the brain fails. None can agree on its exact cause, but most believe there is a genetic predisposition to the condition, with significant environmental triggers involved.

The developmental disorder affects the way the brain works and affects the way the child interacts with society.

Some doctors and parents see a link between childhood vaccines, others suspect pesticides or drugs taken during pregnancy. The theories are endless and most experts agree there is no single cause.

Whatever autism is, its symptoms range from a mild form to rendering individuals dependent on others for life.

Many people with autism are able to take in information very well, but the wiring in the brain simply won't allow the information to be processed in the form of organized thought and language.

Tito has given experts some rare insight into what that feels like. His poetry includes stanzas like this:

"I am he.

And I am me.

I am he behind that mirror

I am me watching the he."

One of his favorite books is Plato's "Republic."

The world may have never known about Tito's gift except for the efforts of his mother, Soma, who is from India.

Doctors there told Soma that Tito was mentally retarded and beyond hope. She gave up her career in chemistry, determined to teach him.

Eventually, an organization in the United States brought Soma and Tito, then 10 years old, to the United States to study him because he defied the stereotype of an autistic child.

Soma's method of teaching Tito is called the Rapid Prompting Method. I watched her work with other children at the HALO -- Helping Autism through Learning and Outreach -- center in Austin, Texas, where she teaches while Tito attends school.

The therapy starts by asking the children to point at words on pieces of paper. Once they've mastered that, they use the stencil.

If their motor skills develop well enough, the children will type on a specially designed keyboard.

Her technique seems to be working for the children who attend therapy at HALO. There is a yearlong waiting list for four-day therapy sessions. It can take years to see progress.

Rapid Prompting has not been tested in long-term scientific studies, and Soma is not without her critics. Some criticize her methods as harsh and unproven.

During her sessions, Soma never says "good job," never rewards a child with a high-five or a treat, which is a common reward in other therapeutic techniques.

Soma is unapologetic.

"I don't see the child as autistic. I don't see the label at all," Soma says, speaking quickly in her musical Indian accent.

"I see the child as a person. And just as I would talk to any person, I would talk to a child, because the world is not going to talk to them in a very slow way."

Dr. Michael Merzenich was one of the first experts to pay attention to Soma's technique. He's a neuroscientist at the University of California, and he believes Soma's rapid prompting works.

He says there is no doubt the children are using their minds to create their own words and express their own ideas. Unlike facilitated learning techniques that have been discredited, Soma does not guide the children's hands.

"Imagine what it would be like," he says, "to be able to understand everything that's said to you -- to think and to be unable to communicate your own thoughts and ideas."

Merzenich does not believe Rapid Prompting works for all autistic children, but has no doubt it can help thousands.

I watch several young children in their therapy sessions on this day in Austin. Some struggle horribly. The session makes the children appear stressed, but they continually make small breakthroughs and answer questions correctly.

Soma conducts about 10 therapy sessions a day.

"You must be exhausted," I say to her.

"I can't be," she answers curtly but with a smile. "I have to go home now and teach Tito."

At their home, I ask Tito if he is happier now that he can communicate. He writes out a long response on a piece of paper on a clipboard.

"I can't say whether I am happy or not, because happiness is a state of my mind. So sometimes I think I'm happy. Other times it is hollowness."

It's probably a true statement for most of us at some point in our lives. Soma smiles at the response and doesn't miss a beat.

"Keep writing," she says to Tito. "Keep going."


I am going to post more on Tito's writings in my other blog Autistis Savant.For me he has a savant skill in the Art of Writing.Tito has his own website http://halo-soma.org and has published a book entitled "The Mind Tree: A Miraculous Child Breaks the Silence of Autism"Those interested to read more about him can go to this website.

BOOK NOTES: ‘Look Me in the Eye’ goes inside autism

How could something as common as making eye contact be so difficult? How can people who are so brilliant with solving complex calculations, for example, be so limited in the basic everyday skills of life?

It seems ironic that the very people who suffer severely from being able to connect normally with other people may be the very ones who offer society answers to the riddle of Asperger’s Syndrome.

John Elder Robison has written a poignant, insightful, brilliant memoir titled “Look Me in the Eye: My Life with Asperger’s” (Crown, 2007). It is must reading. As the numbers of those on the autism spectrum rise dramatically, it is imperative that society pay attention to these unique people. We cannot afford to lose what they can offer.

Autism is one of the most confounding mental conditions. Little is known — yet — on what triggers the disorder. Until the 1940s, autism was not even in the medical lexicon.

The symptoms of autism, however, are difficult to ignore. The most overt symptoms are a difficulty — often severe — with social interactions, problems with verbal and nonverbal communication, and repetitive actions or obsessive fixations.These behaviors can range from mild to disabling along what researchers now understand and call autistic spectrum disorder. Asperger’s Syndrome is on the high end.

Long before the behaviors had a name, those with what we now call Asperger’s were noted as being out of the ordinary. Called odd or eccentric or quirky, some found acceptance due to one other prevalent attribute — their “genius.”

John Elder Robison speaks eloquently to both his brilliance and his heartbreaking disabilities. That he is able and willing to do so is in itself a story.

Many recall the best-selling memoir by Augusten Burroughs titled “Running with Scissors” (St. Martin’s Press, 2002). He captured the public’s attention with his tale of growing up with an insane mother, an alcoholic father, being “given” to his mother’s psychiatrist and being raised in increasingly bizarre circumstances by truly dysfunctional characters.

Yet what seemed to intrigue his readers the most — based on many letters and the predominant comments he received at book signings — was the relatively brief mention in the book about his older brother who lived with Asperger’s.

In the touching foreword to “Look Me in the Eye,” Augusten Burroughs shares how he convinced his adored older brother to tell his own story.

“ ‘You should write a memoir. About Asperger’s, about growing up not knowing what you had. A memoir where you tell all your stories. Tell everything.’

“About five minutes later, he e-mailed me a sample chapter. ‘Like this?’ was the subject line of the e-mail.

“ ‘Yes. Like that.’ “

Mr. Burroughs openly adores his “brilliant brother.” Readers will also come to recognize that John Elder Robison is truly a genius.

Those of a certain age remember the rock band Kiss and the smoking guitars and other wild special effects that took rock ‘n’ roll into new dimensions of “arena rock.”

Mr. Robison made those guitars smoke and built the sound systems that took rock high tech.

Remember Super Simon, one of the first electronic games? In the 1970s, Mr. Robison was on the research and design teams at Milton Bradley that transformed kids’ toys.

For the past 20 years, J.E. Robison Service in Amherst, Mass., has been repairing and restoring high-end automobiles (very high end) for grateful customers who come from all over the world to have John Elder Robison work his magic.

All this is self-taught. Actually, everything Mr. Robison has done in his life has been self- taught. Even learning — in his 40s — to act “normally.”
It is hard to say what aspect of this book is most fascinating — the descriptions of what Mr. Robison calls “Aspergian” behaviors or his savant abilities..

What he makes clear is that Asperger’s and savantism are linked. He has come to appreciate that, even without a high school diploma, “the knowledge I have is genuine.” He also says he has come to understand that the skills he has to design, engineer, build (anything!), “are rare.”

He writes, “There are plenty of people in the world whose lives are governed by rote and routine. Such people will never be happy dealing with me, because I don’t conform. Luckily, the world is also full of people who care about results, and those people are usually very happy with me, because my Asperger’s compels me to be the ultimate expert in whatever field of interest I choose. And with substantial knowledge, I can obtain good results.”

Mr. Robison’s story emphasizes two compelling points. The first is that Asperger’s does not need to be “fixed.”

“I’m not defective. In fact, in recent years I have started to see that we Aspergians are better than normal!”

Mr. Robison continues, “And now it seems as though scientists agree: Recent articles suggest that a touch of Asperger’s is an essential part of much creative genius.”

We think with awe about geniuses in literature or life: the calculating abilities of a “Rain Man,” the intuitive thinking of a Sherlock Holmes, the tenacity and analytical skills of a Jane Goodall.

But we also disparage the lack of social graces in these geniuses. These are people who did not play nicely in the sandbox.

Neither did John Elder Robison. In another poignantly funny account, he relates his own early childhood attempts where he failed miserably at playing nicely in a sandbox — or anywhere.

However — and this is his second important point — it was not because he didn’t want to play nicely with other kids.

He sadly remembers teachers who pointed to him, alone, with the comment, “He doesn’t want to play with others.”

He asserts, “They were dead wrong.”

Mr. Robison makes clear in his book and in interviews that “the bitterest disappointment of my life was the inability to make friends.”

It speaks to the nature of this man that he is happily married. His chapter on being a husband and father are touchingly sweet and very funny. Moreover, he has — now — a wide circle of good friends with whom he shares his interests and theirs.

He says that he has learned the difference between “eccentric and weird” and he strives to be “a nice eccentric.” He accepts that he will never be “normal,” nor does he want to be.
“Asperger’s is not a disease. It’s a way of being. There is no cure, nor is there a need for one.”

But, there is a need to expand on what is considered “normal.” Society needs to extend the range of what is considered accepted behavior.

The title of the book is a particular sticking point for Mr. Robison and others on the autistic spectrum. His explanation of why he does not look people in the eye is enlightening: He isn’t shutting the world out, he is intensely taking it all in. How much easier his life would have been if “normal” people understood just this simple difference.

As more is known about autism and Asperger’s Syndrome — much from Aspergians themselves — the better it will be for them and for those around them.

For those who want to read more about it, in a final chapter Mr. Robison provides a host of sources for information about Asperger’s and autism including support groups, books and other memoirs.

Mr. Robison’s Web site is amazing — www.johnrobison.com. He posts book information, photographs and his blogs. Most intriguing is an hour-long video of his first public appearance to launch the book. Mr. Robison reads passages, answers questions from the audience, and interacts with this brother who moderates the event.

He tells of having to audition to read this book for the Crown audio edition — he was accepted — and how this medium provided another breakthrough for Aspergians.

“Moms of autistics and Aspergians called and wrote (to say) my voice is distinctive” with tones and nuances that are recognizable as Asperger’s.

He says had he known the power of the spoken word, he would have insisted the audio edition not be abridged.

Now that Mr. Robison finally has a diagnosis and his own appreciation for being a “proud Aspergian,” he is very open to sharing with as many people as he can reach in order to save others with Asperger’s and their families the pain he experienced.

Joan Ruddiman, Ed.D., is the coordinator/ facilitator of the gifted and talented PRISM program at the Thomas R. Grover Middle School in the West Windsor-Plainsboro School District.