Different . . . Not Less. Temple Grandin
you can get out of bed or not; there is no one standing over you. However, when you are scheduled to conduct a tour at 10 o’clock in the morning, you’d better be there, or else. I was so desperate to keep this job that I forced myself to look visitors in the eye, even when I didn’t want to. I looked at my watch and hurried my groups along so I wouldn’t run late; I concentrated on speaking with inflection and projecting my voice. Talking for 2 hours was not the part that was difficult; like many Aspies, I can talk a blue streak on a subject in which I am interested. The trick was talking in a way that made people want to listen. All through the winter between my first and second seasons, I practiced before the mirror, like a trial lawyer preparing his closing argument. I tried out my new techniques with Aunt Rose. I knew I had finally found a place where I felt I belonged.
By dint of sheer self-will, I developed enough skills to hang on to my job. I became an adequate guide, and then, over the years, I became a very good guide. The job became my anchor through all the rough patches to come, such as the death of my father and Aunt Rose. In the case of Aunt Rose, not only had I lost my caregiver, but I had lost the last person in the world who really cared about me.
Losing My Family Was Very Traumatic
I imagine that losing one’s family is traumatic for anyone, but to an autistic person it can seem like the worst thing that could happen. Many of us lack the ability to form strong friendships or relationships, and when we lose our family of origin, there is no one to fill the void. After Aunt Rose died, I had to vacate her home, and this increased my stress levels. Depression and anxiety overwhelmed me.
However, the Kykuit season was about to start, and I liked guiding so much that I decided to seek therapy and find out, once and for all, what was “wrong” with me. In this manner, I came to receive a diagnosis of Asperger’s at the age of 54. I delved into learning about my diagnosis. I read books and scoured the Internet for information on the autism spectrum. I met other adult Aspies, both online and in person. I was pleased to find that, although my autism would not go away, my symptoms could be alleviated with small doses of an antidepressant (buproprion) and an antianxiety medication (klonopin).
Diagnosis Gave Me a New Perspective
A wise Frenchwoman once said that to understand all is to forgive all. Once I began to understand myself, I looked at the pattern of my past through a new perspective and began to forgive myself for all the repeated mess-ups in my life. I felt that I was finally able to move on.
At Kykuit, I had rediscovered the Real Me—the brave, spunky child that I was before I sank down into despair. My job as a tour guide has at last offered me an opportunity to shine and to develop skills I always wanted to possess. My self-Confidence has grown, and I have actually been able to make friends.
I have added my own unique spin to the tour, which visitors seem to love. While my colleagues focus on the more dynamic characters of the Rockefeller family—John D. Rockefeller, Sr, or Nelson Rockefeller—I often talk about the generation in between. John D. Rockefeller, Jr, and I have a lot of traits in common. Like me, he had a hard time fitting in. He was fascinated by history and classical art. He felt so out of place in the 20th century that he built Colonial Wil-liamsburg and spent a portion of each year at his home there. Just as the image of the IBM cubicle was impressed upon me in my youth as the archetypal job, “Junior” was always expected to follow in his father’s footsteps and take over the Standard Oil Company. Like me, he had a lot of false starts, disappointments, and inner struggles before he realized he was simply not cut out to be a corporate executive. He knew he had to chart his own course in life.
Reconnection with My Childhood Friend
Last summer, a Christian tour group visited Kykuit, and I was their guide. One of the ladies had an identification tag with the name of the small town in North Carolina to which Alexis had moved 30 years before—the last time I had heard from her. As a lark, I asked the lady whether she knew Alexis. To my stunned delight, another visitor suddenly exclaimed, “Alexis? I work with her!” As it turned out, the visitor was a nurse at a hospital where Alexis is the chaplain. I gave her my e-mail address, and now I have reconnected with my childhood best friend. This is the kind of intangible treasure I have found through my work at Kykuit.
I have never become exactly like the other guides here, but in my eyes I’ve managed to become something even more meaningful. I’ve finally become myself.
CHAPTER 2
STEPHEN SHORE
Special-Education Professor and Autism Advocate
STEPHEN M. SHORE, BA, MA, EdD
Age: 50
Resides in: Newton, MA
Occupation: Assistant professor of special education, Adelphi University, Garden City, NY
Marital status: Married 21 years
FROM TEMPLE:
Stephen worked hard and achieved success by becoming a professor at a university. He was very resourceful and set up a bike repair shop in his dorm room to pay his way through school. Stephen has authored several well-known books, and I love his overall positive view on life. Dr Shore still experiences some sensory difficulties, and when there is too much noise and commotion, he has to get away. Despite these challenges, Dr Shore’s story illustrates how hard work and ingenuity can lead to success.
STEPHEN’S INTRODUCTION
At this time, I have been an assistant professor of special education at Adelphi University for 2½ years. In addition to my teaching duties, I develop curriculum and teach courses on autism and special education. I work with students who are preparing to become teachers, as well as those who want to update and increase their knowledge about autism and/or special education. I also teach students from the schools of psychology and social work. With committees, projects, collaborations with others to develop programs, and outreach to area schools, I find this career very rewarding. My research focuses on comparing different approaches, such as applied behavior analysis (ABA), Treatment and Education of Autistic and Communication related handicapped Children (TEACCH), Daily Life Therapy, the Miller Method, and Floortime, with the goal of applying the best practice to the needs of individual children on the autism spectrum. Because of the great diversity of the spectrum, it makes no sense to me to try to prove which approach is the best one overall.
The things I like most about my job are preparing for classes and teaching students about autism and special education. I also enjoy collaborating with my colleagues on instruction, curriculum building, and research. I tend to get very good teaching evaluations, averaging in the low-to-mid “1’s” on a 4-point Likert scale, where 1 is the best score possible. Knowing that I am contributing to the field of education is very important to me. And that is verified every time students tell me in an unprompted way that they enjoyed my courses, when they reconnect to report that they have found teaching jobs, or when they reach out to ask for advice as they go on to educate students with autism and other special needs.
One dislike about my position relates to the sometimes long meetings that seem to consist of “data dumps” of information that could be read online, when a lot of time is spent between two or more people bickering about something, or when the gathering drifts off the agenda and runs overtime. However, I realize that, in addition to the things that do get accomplished at these meetings, in some ways they also contribute to the social cohesiveness of the various departments, as well as the various schools and the university at large.
One challenge I have overcome to some extent is managing subtle social situations and office politics. I continue to work on this. To help in this area, I make liberal use of mentors I can trust to help translate what is happening, decode the “hidden curriculum” of the workplace, and help prepare for when I do have to get into situations that require me to read “between the lines.” That