lawn, keeping my room clean, shoveling snow out of the driveway, and doing laundry when I was older.
Being Jewish, I was expected to go to religious services on Sundays and to attend Sunday school, just like my sister. My brother, who had more cognitive difficulties, did not have to go to Sunday school but still had to sit through the Sunday services, most likely because there was no special education version of religious school at that time. Sunday services and school also meant changing into nice but scratchy clothes, which I took off immediately upon returning home.
My brother and I both had bar mitzvah ceremonies at age 13, as is customary. Again, because of my brother’s cognitive challenges, his requirements for reading and reciting Hebrew were limited to repeating another person as they recited short phrases in Hebrew. However, I was expected to do everything the others did, which I found exceedingly challenging. When I failed to improve with private tutoring in Hebrew, my parents made a recording of one of the elders at the temple, who recited the entire passage from the Torah that I needed to learn, plus all of the important prayers. Because the words were chanted in a singsong voice, they were easier to remember.
I put on a good show at the bar mitzvah, reciting everything in a sort of echolalic fashion, right down to the gravelly old voice of the elder who had recorded what to say. I had no idea what I was saying, other than knowing in a general way that I was talking about the first three days of creation, which I had read about in an old bible we had at home. However, it worked!
I Had to Earn Money for Things I Wanted
My parents addressed whatever basic needs we had. But if I wanted something extra, I had to earn the money to pay for it. For example, I wanted a new, “grown-up” bicycle that cost $50. I was expected to earn that money by doing a series of odd jobs around the house, mowing neighbors’ lawns, and shoveling snow. It took about 6 months to earn enough money to pay for it, but I did it.
When I was given my grandfather’s car after he could no longer drive it, I was expected to pay for my own gas, insurance, and maintenance. During the summertime when I was home from college, I was expected to contribute $25 a week toward paying the family expenses.
ELEMENTARY SCHOOL YEARS
By the time I entered the Putnam school as a child, after the “early intervention” provided by my parents and some speech therapy, my speech was beginning to return. I was reevaluated, and my diagnosis was upgraded from “psychosis” to “neurosis,” so things were looking up for me.
I was in a class with three other boys in what seemed like more of a play-based intervention, which was focused on developing social interaction rather than ABA. To me, the most important variable of that program in terms of its successful outcome was its intensity.
I saw psychotherapists once a week for about 10 years, beginning at age 5. Some were better than others. What I hated most about these sessions was when a doctor decided I should play with either play dough or puppets. Both of them smelled terrible, and the play dough also left a residue on my hands.
Dr Martin Miller is one therapist who particularly stands out in a positive sense. He was ahead of his time in that, rather than trying to analyze me in an attempt to “cure me” of my autism, he helped me deal with the issues that stemmed from my condition.
A Social and Academic Catastrophe
In elementary school, I was a social and academic catastrophe. I did not know how to interact with my classmates in a way they could understand or expect, which resulted in a lot of bullying and teasing. For example, I remember walking around in kindergarten, repeating the letter “B” over and over. Even though I thought it was an ugly sound, I was compelled to repeat it. Around that time I realized there was something different about me, as I was the only one I knew who went to a special clinic and saw a special doctor (the psychiatrist) every week.
Instead of talking with my classmates, I had a repertoire of sounds and actions that I would make at them. I actually hoped I would get them to repeat these sounds and actions back at me. For me, that was a more predictable type of interaction than attempting to enter into a conversation.
I Loved to Read Books about Special Interests
Academically, I was almost a grade behind in most subjects and was often surprised when I got promoted to the next grade. However, I still had my special interests, in areas such as astronomy, airplanes, electricity, natural history, weather, cats, music, and the like. I spent hours at my desk, reading stacks of books on my favorite subjects. One day in the 3rd grade, I was busy taking notes and copying diagrams from a stack of astronomy books on my desk during a math lesson. My teacher told me that I’d never learn how to do math. Yet somehow, I’ve learned enough math to teach statistics at the university level! The good news is that today, an educator would likely notice such a special interest and find a way to incorporate it into a child’s curriculum.
Sometimes I wondered if there was more to school than sitting at my desk, reading my favorite books. Often, just figuring out what teachers wanted was a perpetual challenge. Until I went to college, school always seemed like a bit of a game, as I tried to guess what the teachers wanted me to do. I think my teachers did not know how to reach me, and since I was not a behavioral problem, they just left me to my own devices. In those days, before there was special education law, it was probably for the best.
My Parents Supported My Special Interests
My parents supported my special interests. When I was focused on collecting seashells, my mother and I spent hours sorting and gluing shells onto a cover of a cardboard box. We also wrote the English and Latin names for the shells below them. When I was interested in astronomy, a telescope appeared, and we would stay up late at night, looking at the moon, stars, and constellations. My parents supported my interest in chemistry by providing me with a chemistry set and eventually a lab bench in my room.
I followed the Apollo space program closely and had a model of the lunar module at home. I read every book I could get my hands on that related to aviation, space exploration, and astronomy. At the time, I desperately wanted to fly on an airplane and thought about becoming a pilot. One of the highlights of my life was my first flight from Boston, MA, to Tampa, FL, to visit my grandparents. The feeling of takeoff was pure nirvana. Knowing what I know today about sensory integration, I was underresponsive in the vestibular and proprioceptive senses, and I was a sensory seeker. This may explain why I was and continue to be attracted to airplanes.
Some of my favorite sensory-seeking activities as a child were riding my bicycle into a snow bank as fast as possible to launch myself over the handlebars, climbing a tree about 20 feet in height and jumping to the ground, and swinging high on a swing set to find the perfect launching-off point, so I could sail through the air and land softly on my feet. To this day, I still enjoy take-offs on airplanes, as well as when the ride gets turbulent.
MIDDLE- AND HIGH-SCHOOL YEARS
In contrast to many, if not most people, middle and high school were better for me, probably for the following two reasons: (1) I started using words as my primary means of interaction with my classmates, instead of sound effects from the environment, and (2) I was able to engage in my special interests. The middle- and high-school years are when courses, clubs, and activities begin to form around particular interests. At first, I took a shop class in electronics and finished the material in about 3 weeks, when there were 9 more to go. However, the shop classes at my school contained bullies. My teacher saw that bullying was beginning to be a problem, so I was transferred into band.
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