How to Live in Society

by Clara Tan, Guest Editorial

There are moments in the musical, How to Dance in Ohio, where the parents of the autistic characters worry aloud about the future of their children after they pass on. Of course, no parent can live forever to provide eternal support, love, and succor. To me, this was probably the most important moment of the entire show, and the story that was being shared.

Because for a lot of their children, they probably wouldn’t be able to fully function and navigate society as independent adults. In that moment, the musical accidentally reveals a deeper truth than I believe was intended by the creators.

Now, for some context. I myself am autistic. I was diagnosed later on in life, after having been the awkward kid all through my schooling career. I always felt like there was a social script that everybody else was aware of and following, and that I had unfortunately not received. Social interactions were overwhelming. People and talking to them felt like an incomprehensible mystery.

My parents, being the kind of people who believe that all doctors are simply out to make money, and that psychiatry/psychology are quack sciences, simply saw me as socially awkward and their treatment was simple. I was forced to learn how to exist within society. I didn’t get a script, so I had to learn my lines by mimicking others. I didn’t know how to talk to people in a manner considered normal, so my parents made me learn how to do that by putting me in a customer facing job.

In essence, I had no choice but to fake my way through understanding neurotypical communication, until a point was reached where I realized that, through sheer volume of repetition and practice, I had finally gotten a copy of the script. The hardest thing to realize, was that once I understood the script, I also realized just how many people didn’t actually follow the script either.

When I was actually diagnosed as autistic, my parents believed I was faking it. They still do, to this day. In the words of my mother, “The LORD made you perfect on the day you were conceived in my womb”. As for me, it made so many things make sense. Suddenly, I understood why I saw the world the way I did. I understood why I’d had so much difficulty making sense of people. I understood why people didn’t like honesty being communicated to them in a matter-of-fact manner.

So much for a brief introduction. I present you all with my bona fides so that you’ll understand what I’m about to discuss with y’all, and where I’m coming from.

How does this relate to How to Dance in Ohio? Well, let us return to the parents, musing about the futures of their children. In their own way, abusive as it was, my parents too were working to prepare me to survive on my own in a world that is harsh, cruel, and uncaring to those who fall behind. And quite by accident, they succeeded. I do not find it difficult to communicate with allistic folks. I do not flinch when I have to make a phone call. I know how to reject someone's offer of a car ride in a manner that will not offend them. These are all situations that are presented in the musical, and the autistic characters are presented as facing extreme difficulty in navigating them.

These people, in effect, were not sufficiently prepared to move through the world. Their parents, for lack of a better word, failed them. Their children, once their parents have passed, will have far more difficulty caring for themselves without the guidance of their authority figures.

Now, this is not a criticism of the musical, by any means. In fact, it was very heartening to see characters presented as openly autistic onstage. No, what I am discussing here is a symptom of a larger problem within society, that How to Dance in Ohio presents to us in a neat package, ready for dissection.

These characters in the play were all based on actual people, and as I was watching it, I couldn’t help but think to myself, “what is going to happen to them after this?” What happens after the cheering end and the spring formal, and the uplifting song about acceptance? These people go back to a world that they have not been fully equipped to deal with. They are limited from performing at their highest potential.

While I was growing up, my parents, in their ham-fisted way, were putting me through exposure therapy. Continuous and repeated exposure to stressful situations eventually forces you to learn how to deal with them. And for the characters of the play, and possibly the very real people they were based on, they were allowed to be isolated from these kinds of situations. Put in a safe bubble, free from overwhelming stimuli, confusing social interactions, and the nuances of communication.

In my conversations with other autistic people, I have noticed a marked advocacy for this kind of upbringing. Autistic children should be shielded from the things that make them uncomfortable, so I am told. I would argue, the only thing that can result from this is an autistic adult who does not have the mental and emotional capacity to deal with the stresses of everyday life. The characters of the musical all attend the same family therapy group, and constantly lament the difficulty of understanding and navigating society. Yet, when given the opportunity to grow and learn from experiencing difficult, uncomfortable, and even painful situations, they choose to withdraw.

Let’s take a look at one of them. Marideth, the newest addition to the therapy group, has trouble dealing with overstimulation. There is a scene where she is in a diner having a meal with her father, and she is finding herself overwhelmed by the noises and lights of the locale. It is a diner, after all. I’m sure they must all be busy, even in Ohio. She has a burger in front of her that she has not touched, because the pickles were not removed. Marideth is attempting to have this meal, because her father enjoys frequenting this particular diner and has repeatedly mentioned wanting to bring her there throughout the course of the show. Ultimately, however, the stimulation becomes too much for Marideth, who withdraws into herself, using sensory reducing headphones to isolate herself. Her father can see that there isn’t going to be much more of a meal there, and calls for the check, the disappointment and sadness palpable on his face.

To me, this entire scene is emblematic of the issue with how some autistic people are being raised today. How is Marideth supposed to learn to communicate with allistic people if she is simply allowed to withdraw from society when she wants? Her father won’t be around forever to do things for her. She cannot even find the wherewithal to hail the waitress and say, “Could we replace my burger?” One might call it kindness to allow these folks to withdraw from society when the world becomes too much, but in doing so, you end up with a situation like Marideth’s. Where you, as a grown-ass woman, can’t even order a burger for yourself.

Take another example, the character of Drew. This particular young man frustrates me in many ways, because he constantly acts out in response to those around him trying to assist him. Drew is about to head off to college, and has been accepted to the prestigious University of Michigan for… either engineering or physics, I forget which. Anyway, his entire subplot revolves around him deciding not to go to UM, and instead attend Ohio State. His reasoning? He already knows where everything is, he already has all his friends here in Ohio, and he is ultimately more comfortable staying. The group’s therapist, Dr. Emilio Amigo, decides to help Drew out by calling UM admissions to ask about potentially deferring Drew’s acceptance to a later semester. When Drew finds out, he is apoplectic and sends a very angry email to the good doctor, chastising Amigo for “not respecting his decision”.

Now, this might be a cultural difference here, but watching this play out, I could not help but see Drew as entitled and childish. This isn’t even a case of wanting to pursue a different major, say the arts or humanities instead of STEM. This is a young man who is potentially damaging his future prospects, so that he can remain comfortable. So that he does not have to exit his comfort zone and be challenged, away from home and the safety of his parents, which is kind of what college is about. Worse, the reaction to Amigo, is framed as completely right and fair of Drew to have.

Now, I am in therapy myself, and I’m sure I speak for myself, but I wouldn’t want to have a therapist who only enables me and does not question anything I do. No, I would much prefer to have a provider who calls me out on my bullshit when I’m on my bullshit. Drew’s parents are no better, as they remain steadfastly supportive of Drew, even when he’s making a bad decision. This is another example of the attitudes surrounding child rearing that I believe ultimately hurts the child. The parent’s job is to prepare their child for life beyond childhood. If your kid is making an idiotic decision because he’s afraid of experiencing the big, scary world outside, you don’t just go along with it. No, you tell them to grow up. The world is harsh and cruel, and even more so to those who are disabled. Limiting your future prospects by turning down the potential networking connections that going to a prestigious college brings is not going to help you in the long term. Especially since we live in a world that is already prejudiced against the disabled. Why would you handicap yourself further?

I do sincerely believe that a lot more people could afford to tell their children, “get over it”. Tell them to grow up, and learn how to deal with the world. Learn how to fake it, til you make it.

Finally, for my fellow autistic folks out there. I’m sure that what I’ve written might be uncomfortable to read. If the world were only populated by autistic people, we wouldn’t need to have this conversation. But it’s not. We have to learn how to live with others. There is a condition peculiar to Americans, the very extreme brand of individualism that runs rampant here. We, as autistic people are just as susceptible to it as anyone else. You cannot live in a little bubble surrounded by other autistic people who pat you on the back and comfort you because you couldn’t summon the courage to answer the phone. That’s neither healthy nor particularly helpful, in my opinion.

These young adults are all in a state of arrested development, and one that could be prevented entirely, I believe. If they were just forced to endure a little more discomfort. It may come across as harsh, but this disability is one that has to be overcome in that manner.

I guess, if I were to summarize this entire article in two words, it would be these.

Grow up.