Autistic Development and Those So-Called “Issues”
Filed Under (Autism and Intelligence, Autism and Learning, Communication, Development, Sensory Differences) by Estee on 01-07-2010
One of the most talked about issues in autism is the issue of verbal communication or “functional” speech. That is, speech that is reciprocal, social, conversational. For Adam, there have been major challenges in this area and he has had to use augmentative forms in order to communicate many things, yet for the person who understands his communication, he is communicating all the time. I do not find it too difficult to understand and the one shortcoming I may have is the tendency to feel frustrated when he is — when he cannot get a more complex message across.
Adam turned eight this year and much of this is beginning to change. Adam began to talk in sentences, began to show me things and started to become “the teacher,” in the sense that he would test me on the things he wanted to talk about in books. He learned certain concepts such as what something was NOT as opposed to what it was, among other concepts.
There are a couple of things I want to write with respect to progress in communication ability, quite unscientifically, in this post, for I have not yet found some good citations to support my theories about autism and development. So take it for what it’s worth and perhaps you may see some more of my posts deal with this — with citations.
I’ve been reading how to teach philosophy to children through children’s books: Big Ideas for Little Kids: Teaching Philosophy Through Children’s Literature, by Thomas E. Wartenberg. When we refer to teaching “critical thinking” to autistic children, it usually has to deal with teaching the more functional types like putting puzzles together or teaching Feature, Function and Class — for those familiar you know what I mean. These are the basic skills we believe are absent in autistic children because their very expression is difficult to manifest — be it for attentional reasons or motor planning issues, or both.
We do not address for the “profoundly autistic,” “severely autistic” or any autistic child, for that matter, often enough, how to read books, how to question and how to think abstractly because we have decided that autistic people learn literally. While this may be in part true, we miss an opportunity to help along the critical aspects to being human — the ability to question. I’ve read many a time how we wish to teach some flexibility in thinking in autism. To me, teaching through books and by taking a lead in creative ways to view things from different angles is not only an exercise for Adam, but also for myself. We would all stand to gain from working to think in ways that may not be familiar to us.
We are more often concerned with our children knowing how to read the words (certainly this is the first step to reading at all). We do not learn how to talk to an autistic child who has difficulty with that reciprocity, how to really push forward, even though their manifestation of understanding is not what we expect. In my view, I feel it is dangerous to assume that Adam does not understand as much as it is to take for granted that he can just learn the way a typical child does. Yet all those years of puzzles, functional skills and communication issues makes me worried that Adam is missing the most important component of life learning, that is, to ask questions about everything. I’m quite sure I will be writing more about my in-house experiments here.
That said, I have a short story to tell. With some severe weather hovering around Toronto, there was a downburst, or a tornado. Both Adam and I enjoy watching the weather reports. With bad weather, we are glued to the TV. I was talking about funnel clouds and how they are dangerous.
“Why?” Adam asked.
“Because they can rip down houses and trees,” I said.
“Why?” he asked again. I am thinking about a three-year-old I once knew when I was an older kid and how every answer to a question he had ended up with yet another “why?” Like that, the conversation went on a bit between Adam and I. He kept asking me “why?” until I ran out of answers!
For a typical child, asking “why?” is expected. For an eight-year-old developing autistic child, it was another one of our milestones.
With that “why?” also came a series of sentences and conversations this week. With those conversations came difficulty falling asleep and some body jerks. Also interesting that along with an increased in verbal expression came an improvement on his fine-motor skills at the dining table as well as gross motor skills I noticed while watching him outside climbing structures I’ve never seen him climb before. Could this be a reason for the sleeping issues? Could his body be a-buzz?
Again, I am making a possible correlation that needs to be tested because dad let him sleep in over the weekend (school was out) and this is reason enough for not being able to go to sleep the following day and, perhaps lack of sleep and other frustrations lead to more body jerks. Yet I also wonder, only because I’ve seen it before, if sleep issues and body jerks have to do with an increased output of communication and other “manifestions,” — overall “progress.” So often we view “issues” as a result of “delay” and “behaviours” and we label it as if it is something we have to get rid of or something that worries us. Yet, with this example, Adam is trying so hard to express himself and his body may be following him as it attempts to process the steps we have taken for granted. If we take a view that such preservations, behaviours, sleep problems might have to do with processing, progress and development, how might we address and teach autistic children differently?
It’s something to think about when we study autism and when we rethink the, perhaps, very “normal” path of autistic development.





ESTÉE KLAR
TORONTO, ONTARIO, CANADA
Writer.Curator of Art. Founder of The Autism Acceptance Project. Mother of Adam. I like to write about our journey, musings, attitudes towards autism.












I like this topic. Often sensory overload is attributed to what inputs are coming in and it should also include inputs coming out like an increase in communication. A good example of this in my life has been making itself apparent lately. I am in a public speaking class, and while I am doing surprisingly well it does take a lot of effort, concentration, practice, etc. on my part. I experience dizzy spells and painful sensory induced headaches as a result. I get sensory overload in many of my classes but there is a significant increase when I am actually increasing the level of communication output.
We’ve always had more sleep and gross motor issues (as well as some increased behaviours) when we’ve had big leaps forward in cognitive development, so much so that I now assume that development in one area will be reflected (not necessarily positively) in others.
I I think that CPRI has some research on this- when we were going through our first huge cognitive leaps between about 4-7 years of age and working with with them, they took it as a matter of course.
I haven’t seen any research on it in puberty yet, but from observation, I’d say that it’s even more magnified at this point. Cognitive developments (at least in our household) are very definitely accompanied by sleep disturbances as well as other behaviours. And even though it may sometimes feel like 2 steps forward, 1 step back, generally things are working out towards the positive side. I agree that it should make a difference in how we address and teach…there has to be a consideration of the ‘whole’ person.
Happy Canada Day…I hope that Toronto has calmed down now!
I agree that the more abstract reactions to reading–the whys and all the other struggles for comprehending the content, versus merely understanding the words–is something no child should be denied.
At the same time, I wonder if that is something that is really taught at all. In reading your post I thought about my own education. Maybe it’s that I’m not typical myself, but I don’t remember anyone ever teaching me how to do these things.
I remember people trying. My dad started teaching me critical thinking skills at a young age. I remember teachers drilling traditional literary criticism strategies into me since we started having to do book reports. And I remember interacting with other adults on political issues and “discovering” that what other people meant by what they said is not what I interpretted them to mean, which brought my mind to a whole new level of critical thinking–understanding that the logic of my thinking and the honesty in expressing it wasn’t the norm.
But considering all the people who sought to shape my thinking and my interpretation by leading me through their mental steps, what really works for me is something I developed on my own. I can recognize and express (most of the time) the standard responses to those thought questions, but those standard answers are often not the ones that are the most significant to me.
I guess a simpler way to put it is this: I was taught how to produce the expected responses to literature and learning material. This helps me succeed in school and to “blend” in typical conversations should I choose to do so. But I was not taught how to think, because my thought processes deviate significantly from these standard responses. This I developed–or so it seems to me–by giving myself permission to think differently and giving myself the “leisure” to pursue my own thinking. I’ve fallen and dug myself out of some interesting mental traps, because I had no one to warn me of the kind of non-standard mental traps I was susceptible to, and I’m sure there are some I haven’t yet recognized. But, overall, my thinking developed regardless of what was expected of me. Understanding the standard responses enables me to express both what is expected and the conclusions I actually reach–but it didn’t teach me how to think.
I guess what I’m trying to say is that when teaching an atypical thinker, like a child with autism, there has to be a balance between helping them recognize standard responses and giving them permission to have non-standard responses.
One of the things that makes me cringe in Willy’s education is when he responds to a story or piece of learning material in a nonstandard way and it becomes “wrong.” I haven’t quite figured out how to express to Willy that one response, the “right” response, is what his teacher wants/expects him to provide, but that this does not mean his natural response is wrong. Moreover, I find it very frustrating and extremely unfortunate that a student should have to modify their natural response to be “right” on something that has no right or wrong. This quashes creativity and out-of-the-box thinking, and yet there is such a demand for people who survive these years of education with their ability to think out of the box intact.
(Sorry for the rambling response. I hope it makes at least some sense.)
I’ve been dealing with my son’s sleep issues for the past year and now I realize that the start of them coincided with the synaptic pruning that occurs around age three, when symptoms worsen and build. I’ve also noticed an increase in certain sensory issues that didn’t seem to affect him before. Perhaps leaps in brain development (or over-development, in our children’s case) are responsible for interruptions in normal sleep patterns? I wish the brain were like our others organs, where we could diagnose and understand the origin of every symptom or issue.
It’s impossible to know what the cause is, because they can’t express themselves in a way we can understand. My son is hyper-verbal (Aspie-leaning on the spectrum), but lacks the emotional depth to explain how he feels about things, so I have to guess what is disturbing him. So many things to take into account–medicine dosage problems, brain development leaps, over-stimulation, bad day at school, etc etc. I need a decoder ring!
Oh, and maybe I would like to translate this post too (into french I mean)