The YAI Network Autism Community

A resource for individuals and families living with autism spectrum disorders

Browsing Posts tagged autism

YAI is offering a 10-week socialization skills program for children and teens who live in Manhattan!

Who: Manhattan children and teens, ages 9-18.

Date: Begins Thursday, September 17, 2009

When: Every Thursday, 4:30-6 p.m.

Transportation reimbursement and a healthy snack will be provided. For more information, please contact Rocio Ruiz at 212-273-6164!

Topics

Week 1: Say Hello
Week 2: Be a Good Listener
Week 3: Talking Without Words
Week 4: Taking Turns and Sharing
Week 5: Being a Good Friend
Week 6: Being a Good Sport
Week 7: Starting a Conversation
Week 8: Review
Week 9: Saying Goodbye
Week 10: Final Session

The Looks

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Today’s post is by Jeff Stimpson, author of the books Alex: The Fathering of a Preemie and Alex the Boy: Episodes From a Family’s Life With Autism. Hear more from Jeff and his wife, Jill Cornfield, on their fantastic blog, AutismVox, and be sure to check out their podcast.

I got my first sense of how people reach for labels when Alex was born: 27 weeks gestation, 21 ounces, living in the plastic box of an isolette in a gigantic hospital, wires stuck on his every limb and across his chest that was slightly smaller than a deck of cards. I learned the word “preemie.” Soon after, I learned that society often likes to glue the word “miracle” to the word “preemie.” To people who said such things I gave the Shocked But Hanging In There New Parent look.

Alex spent his whole first year in the hospital, wearing more wires than hang in the average hardware aisle in Duane Reade. I remember one afternoon, visiting him and playing a pinball game in the patients’ lounge. I love pinball, and have probably dropped three months’ mortgage in quarters down those slots. This game in the lounge was free, however, and I remember thinking that I hoped Alex would work his way down the road of miracles to the point where he’d go somewhere where the games of pinball didn’t have to be given away.

And he has. He’s played skee-ball in arcades with his younger brother Ned, my other son. Ned, who is typically developing, stood at the foot of the game and rolled the ball up the ramp and into the little holes under the metal grill, earning his points. Alex picked up a ball, ran up the ramp, and tried to place the ball under the screen and directly into one of the little holes. Makes perfect sense! people marveled. I gave them the That’s Not the Way My Son Should Play Skee-Ball And We Both Know It look.

Jeff and Alex

Jeff and Alex

Last weekend, Alex kept trying to scoot through an open door in the basement of our neighborhood supermarket. The store wasn’t crowded and hardly anyone noticed me hauling him back to the checkout line except a young lady working the register. I saw her looking at Alex with the small smile and direct eyes that I’ve learned mean: She knows someone with autism. She stroked his head once. I appreciated the gesture; she might have stroked his head out of understanding the kind of life Alex is likely to have. Funny, though, how I wish she’d maybe felt comfortable yelling at him for trying to go into the basement, comfortable because he was normal and he shouldn’t be trying to run in the basement of a grocery store. I gave her the Tired Slightly Angry Parent look. That is rapidly becoming my favorite look because so many parents of the typically developing wear it half the time.

People – at least the people I’d like to have around Alex – seem to need to think there’s something beyond vulnerability to those with autism. Something special or beneficial to society, or at least likable and warm, like the message of movies like Rain Man, lessons tied up in what Richard Yates disdainfully called “a neat little dramatic package.” Yeah, there’s autism. But they can count cards, too!

Some of them can count cards. Some can paint. Some with autism can do all sorts of things, just like some of all of us can, and of course the verdict is still a long way off when it comes to Alex’s real abilities. I want people to stroke his head someday because he helped them, because he contributed in a way that brought him fulfillment at the end of his working day. And I just want to live to see him get that. I call that my Hopeful Outlook.

Read Jeff’s first post on YAI Autism Community here.

By Dr. Charles Cartwright

On Monday and Tuesday, I wrote about Justin, a young man with autism whose parents identified his interest in art at an early age. I’ve included two of his pieces in this post, which the gracious permission of him and his family.

"Self Portrait" Charcoal on paper by Justin Canha

"Self Portrait" Charcoal on paper by Justin Canha

Justin’s story raises many issues that are relevant to all people on the autism spectrum. When repetitive, stereotypic behaviors appear, they tend to be viewed as “stim” behaviors that can interfere with the child’s ability to respond to intervention programs. In addition, cognitive ability is difficult to evaluate because of the impact of the social, language and behavioral manifestations of autism. The results of formal testing procedures are difficult to interpret because of these factors.

However, a child’s ability, skill, and talent may initially present in the form of these repetitive behaviors. One of the core aspects of autism is a restriction in the range of preferred activities and the engagement in repetitive behaviors, with the presence of routines and rituals. Parents describe how, from the time of early development, their children show repetitive motor mannerisms and engage in repetitive activities, such as spinning objects or lining up toys. In addition, children with autism spectrum disorders often develop intense circumscribed interests that may involve repeatedly drawing certain objects. In many cases, parents recognize that these circumscribed skills or interests actually reflect their child’s intelligence. They often assert this perception despite being told by professionals that formal cognitive testing procedures have shown that their child is functioning at a low cognitive level.

Individuals with autism have a strong tendency to focus on detail. In contrast, they often have difficulty in developing a sense of the whole picture, or the gestalt. The theory that defines this style of viewing the world is referred to as “weak central coherence.” This implies a cognitive deficiency and underplays the presence of cognitive strengths. It is concerning that cognitive assessments report mental retardation in up to 70 percent of people on the autism spectrum. In a study by Dawson et al. (2007), intellectual assessments using the Ravens Progressive Matrices (Mackintosh, 1998) and the Wechsler Intelligence Scale for Children (Wechsler, 1991) were administered to children with autism and compared to typically developing children. The scores of the Ravens in the children with autism were 30-70 percentile points higher than their Wechsler scores. In contrast, the typically developing children showed no discrepancy in the two sets of scores. This finding supports the concept of atypical cognitive processing in these children, rather than mental retardation.

"Mother and Baby in Bath" charcoal on paper by Justin Canha

"Mother and Baby in Bath" charcoal on paper by Justin Canha

“The Intense World Syndrome,” as described by Makram et al. (2007), hypothesizes that individuals with autism spectrum disorders have excessive, rather than diminished, cognitive functioning. The authors describe the phenomena of “hyper-perception, hyper-attention and hyper-memory” that may manifest clinically, for example, as acute sensitivity to noise, excessive focus on detail and impressive ability to memorize certain details. The theory proposes that individuals with autism have very intense perception of fragments of the sensory world with very clear and persistent attention to the detail. The theory proposes that there is an excess of neuronal information processing and storage in local microcircuits of the brain. They conclude that that these circuits are hyper-reactive and extremely plastic, driving the development of new learning, the formation of intense memories and often exceptional skill for a particular task. The negative consequence of this form of cognitive style is the marked restriction of behavioral responses to stimuli in the environment.

How is this all relevant to the development of Justin’s artistic ability? His desire to draw was first evident in early childhood, at a time when his ability to communicate was hampered by his language delay. His cognitive ability at that time was very difficult to assess and his repetitive stereotypic drawing could easily have been seen as interfering with his development and the acquisition of important social and language skills. However, given the encouragement and reinforcement of those around him and the opportunity to develop his drawing skill, he responded by rapidly expanding his skill, showing a keen eye for visual details and an ability to focus for sustained periods of time. He was drawn to novel subject matter and media, thus expanding his knowledge of how to draw and developing his artistic skills. Justin’s pattern of learning and his response to environmental stimulation, appear to reflect this exaggerated brain plasticity, as hypothesized.

Maria Teresa and Briant hope that Justin will someday live independently in their hometown of Montclair, NJ, a community that now knows him well and admires his work. They hope that Justin’s talent will continue to allow him to grow as a person, and foster his future social life, friendships and happiness. This is the wish of all parents whose children are faced with the challenges of a life with autism.