In His Own WordsA Story by SilentDreamoriginally shared during Autism Awareness Month Ma found a small pile of folded-up papers hidden in
the corner. The living room is small,
but comfortable. The chocolate brown
couch is low and soft. There’s a
metallic gold throw tossed on the end of the couch that has a chaise
lounge. Ian is the oldest and he likes
to call the chaise lounge “his spot.”
The patio window’s blinds are usually slanted just enough to let a
little bit of light in. More warmth
sneaks in than light actually. Across
from Ian’s spot is our mini-library. The
books on the shelf that is eye-level start with the ones with red covers, then
orange, then yellow, green, blue, and violet.
The top shelf has all of the books with the black covers and the third
shelf has all of the books with the white covers. Mixed in are a few copper knick-knacks and a
burnished-copper carousel music box that plays “Here Comes the Clowns.” A squat and comfy caramel-colored chair sits
at an angle and in front of the lower half of the bookcase. Behind that chair, on an unclaimed section of
pale beige carpet, is one of Ryan’s favorite hiding places. The
papers are folded, but bulky since Ryan is still learning how to line up the
edges before running his finger along the fold to give the page a hard
crease. A few of the pages are just
balled up loosely. As long as it’s
compact, he’ll add it to his collection of papers. I
show him the folded-up pages in my hands and a couple of them fall to the floor
because there are so many. I shake my
head and tell him, “Not yours.” He
frowns a little. Want… not yours. “Some of these are
important. Ok?” Be back.
He glances at the folded-up pages one more time before leaving the
room.
A new book! It feels smooth. Bright reds.
Dark blues, light blues. Big
letters. Small numbers. Next page.
Next page, (sniff)… Nice smell.
Next page. Next page. Toys!
One’s a tablet. Tablets have
games. Ian has games. And a phone.
Phones play videos. I want Toy
Story videos. Daddy has a tablet at his
house. Ian plays with it. Mommy’s laptop is for school. It has videos too, though. The password is all dots. Count them.
One. Two. Three.
Four.
Ryan gathers up
his collection of papers and sits in Ian’s spot. Ian glances with a raised eyebrow, but
decides to wait Ryan out to reclaim his spot.
Ryan picks up a new Avon brochure from a stack, goes right to the middle
of the brochure, and tears a page clean out of it. “No,
Ryan! Not yours,” Ian tells him right
away. Want… not yours. Peeking her head out of the kitchen and into the
living room, Ma gasps. “On no,
Ryan! That’s mommy’s new books and she
needs to give those away. No tearing
pages. Ok? Not yours.” Be back.
Ryan smoothed out the creases and glanced at it before tucking his
treasure away on the side of the chaise lounge.
One
of the times he pulled it out to look at it, Ma saw what was on the page. It was a picture of a tablet that was made
specifically for young children and it was preset with educational games,
songs, and videos. Ryan’s autism affects
how he sees the world and how he processes instructions. He doesn’t have his own tablet and only plays
with others’ tablets, laptops, or phones with supervision. Ryan was content, though, with carrying
around this torn page that had just a picture of a tablet he wanted. Everyone around him was so intent on
correcting him that we nearly missed out on seeing his world and understanding
his words. © 2014 SilentDreamReviews
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1 Review Added on December 19, 2014 Last Updated on December 19, 2014 Tags: Autism, behavior, communication, non-verbal AuthorSilentDreamBaltimore, MDAboutZsanece Brown was born in Baltimore, Maryland, in 1976. Much of her poetry is inspired by dreams and love, longing and the comfort found in silence. Her work has often been described as bordering on t.. more..Writing
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