By Renee Skudra
At a farmer’s market, with nothing much more on my mind than finding some perfect blackberries and figs, an Australian man approached me and asked if I was interested in vintage cars. Pointing in the direction of the parking lot, he began talking about a bright red 1957 Chevrolet convertible there, enthusiastically providing great detail and its lengthy automotive history. He then moved on to speak about several other very old vehicles nearby, reciting their manufacturing history, particular abilities and even a few design defects. Little did I know that I had just met for the first time a person with Asperger’s Syndrome although it would not be my last — my 5-year old-son would receive the same diagnosis only 6 months later. The conversation ended in an invitation for a date later that week and when I arrived for our lunch at a local restaurant, he was there precisely at the designated time with a box of chocolates and an engineer’s guide to the functioning of Porsche 911S vehicles – just in case that was something I wanted to know.
When I described Chris later to a therapist friend, she brought up the fact that he was possibly “an Aspie.” She mentioned that Asperger’s Syndrome was first described in 1944 by Dr. Hans Asperger, an Austrian pediatrician, but that the condition was virtually unknown in the United States and other non-German speaking countries until an eminent British researcher (Dr. Lorna Wing) published her paper in 1981 explaining its characterological traits. As she explained what the condition entailed, light bulbs suddenly went off in my head. As I got to know Chris, I recognized his difficulty with social interactions, his awkwardness, and how he was not good at following the unwritten rules of social engagement. His eye contact was sporadic (he spent a lot of time looking down at my shoes) and there were unusual speech patterns, pedantic or overly formal manners of speaking. He often appeared not to understand other peoples’ feelings, points of view or social cues. He regularly engaged in monologues which others were not interested in hearing (endlessly talking about cars from the 1940’s and 50’s) and often exhibited an extreme sensitivity to sounds or certain textures of fabrics which he soothed by “stimming” (tapping his feet incessantly or snapping his fingers).
When I first visited his home, I was astounded to see 15 or 20 boxes of Cheerios cereal perfectly lined up in a row on a kitchen counter (like the scene from the 2009 movie “Adam” whose protagonist, also an electronics engineer with Asperger’s Syndrome, played by British actor Hugh Dancy, replicates with a large number of macaroni and cheese products). I also noticed at least one hundred clocks, scattered on every single wall of the apartment, under which were written on index cards the time in every country. When I asked him why he needed one hundred clocks, he stated very matter-of-factly that if he needed to know the particular time in any country, it was automatically available. Although I honestly had no great interest in vintage cars, and the intensity of his interest in them was somewhat off-putting, he continued to lecture me on them ad infinitum until at some point I began to feel that I myself was an authority on Ford vehicles and the history of their manufacture.
As the British poet W.B. Years said in his poem “The Second Coming”, “and then things fell apart”, ultimately our relationship ended with his ultimatum that I would need to move back to Melbourne with him (along with the three vintage cars he personally owned) and no longer object to his separating all the food on his dinner plate so that none of the items ever touched. But here’s the rub: Chris changed my life dramatically in ways I could not have imagined. As I literally wandered in a dense thicket of uncertainty as to how to understand him (particularly because of a lot of reading about Asperger’s Syndrome), I understood that the close, empathic connection I needed was not something he was skilled in or could appreciate. Little could he have known that he laid the foundation for a closer and more sensitive understanding of my own boy who had the self-same condition. By age three, my son was reading fluently, had an eidetic memory, precocious language skills, strong visual-spatial mechanical and memory abilities along with the social awkwardness, “little professor” way of speaking and stimming behavior (as well as talking to himself). In my son’s case he was intensely interested in American history and ultimately became a Civil War historian with two Masters’ Degrees and a book on the war under his belt. Loud noises were very disturbing to him as well as sudden changes in protocols and schedules. Like Chris there was the intellectual brilliance, struggle to understand jokes, and literalism of response. When someone once called our home and asked if I was home, my boy answered “yes” and promptly hung up the phone – taking that question very literally, rather than understanding it as a polite but indirect way of asking to speak to me.
In my opinion everyone should date a person with Asperger’s Syndrome at least once in their lives. One autistic woman, Sarah Hendrick, stated that “Autism is not a processing error. It’s a different operating system.” I like Australian psychologist Tony Attwood’s observation even better: “I see people with Asperger’s Syndrome as a bright thread in the rich tapestry of life.” My relationship with Chris, though somewhat evanescent, taught me the importance of empathy and understanding the beauty of neurodivergence in a world which is often not encouraging. I have learned that Asperger’s Syndrome is a super-power and am grateful that both Chris and my own child have shown me the beauties of being different and proudly standing out in a crowd, immeasurably talented and ready to define their world on their own unusual terms.
Renee Skudra works as a freelance writer along with working full-time with people with disabilities in Greensboro, NC.
