Meet Melodie: An Actor And Writer On The Autism Spectrum
Michelle Jace
M. E. Ellison is an award-winning author and actor based in Northern California. Melodie’s novel, Rachel and the Mighty Arm that Build Egypt earned a 2020 Feathered Quill Book Award and has raving reviews on Amazon. She has a Bachelor’s in Theatre Arts from California State University, Chico and is a contributing writer to Chicken Soup for the Soul. Melodie also happens to have autism. I had a chance to sit down with Melodie and listen to her experiences as a person on the spectrum in the theatre world.
There were early signs for Melodie, but girls often go undiagnosed because they are skilled at ‘masking’.
“In elementary school, I was simultaneously in gifted classes after school for science while also in remedial classes for spelling. I had a speech impediment until I was about 11, when I was put into speech therapy at school. Besides having the speech impediment I just never felt like I said the right thing, so I often just stayed by myself and drew. Sometimes when you’re shy you want to talk but since folks are used to having you be quiet, you become even more afraid to speak because you know they’ll make such a big deal about it. “Oh look, Melodie is talking!” The same goes for showing any emotion outside of agreeableness. But still, most of my life as a performer I did not know I was on the spectrum. I knew I didn’t always feel like I fit. I was too intense. A little odd.
I think acting and loving the stage is a big part of why I wasn’t diagnosed as being on the spectrum earlier. (I mean, besides the fact that girls and women are often ignored when it comes to being on the spectrum.) I was constantly practicing being “normal.” I practiced my facial expressions in the mirror—happy, sad, angry, suspicious, flirty, curious, alarmed. I watched my favorite actors and copied them. I incorporated this not just into being on stage, but the character I played in my everyday life.
Before college, I didn’t do well-completing assignments. I did well on projects and on tests, but if the class was told to work together or independently and everyone was allowed to talk then I just couldn’t focus and work. I was never tested for any learning disabilities, but I just assumed I must have ADD. Any noise happened in the classroom and I couldn’t focus. I also daydreamed a lot during class in general. My grades were never amazing while growing up. They weren’t awful. But I averaged a B in high school. When I got to college I excelled. But there was no noisy classroom in college. In college, it was lectures, tests, papers and projects completed at home—all environments in which I could excel. Now that I’ve discovered that I’m on the autism spectrum, and that along with that I have sensory processing disorder, I understand that was what was causing my inability to focus throughout school as a child and teenager.”
“I read that and thought, “That’s so stupid. How could you possibly be in your mid-thirties (the same age I was) and NOT know you’re autistic?”
“The story of my autism diagnosis is a little silly, I’ll admit. A few years ago I saw an article online about a family—a mom, dad, and little girl. The little girl was experiencing a few social and developmental issues and she was tested and diagnosed as autistic. After being given her test results and going over the autistic traits she displayed, the girl’s father argued that the diagnosis was ridiculous because he shared all of those same traits. The mom encouraged her husband to also get tested. The result? Dad was indeed autistic. I read that and thought, “That’s so stupid. How could you possibly be in your mid-thirties (the same age I was) and NOT know you’re autistic?” The article included a link to a well-regarded self-assessment test for autism. Out of curiosity I clicked the link. I took the test and it said, “You’ve got Asperger’s.
I wasn’t satisfied with self-diagnosis, however. I knew that if I were not professionally diagnosed I would never feel confident enough to tell anyone close to me that I was on the spectrum. I found someone locally who specializes in autism and scheduled an appointment. I came with all my research—my checklists and my pages and pages of information—all neatly presented in a folder. All the autistic traits I related to I had highlighted. The professional only gave that a cursory glance. I later laughed at myself because I realized that my research into autism/Asperger’s was further evidence of my autism/Asperger’s. Before I saw the article that lead me down the autism diagnosis research rabbit hole, I had no idea I was autistic. I thought I might have ADD. I knew I had anxiety. I just had never thought I was autistic because I’d only read the information on autism and Asperger’s as it pertained to men.”
“My being autistic doesn’t usually affect others, it just affects the way I interact with my world.”
“I’m still getting used to the autistic label. Most people don’t know I’m on the spectrum. That’s usually how I refer to it—“on the spectrum.” But I don’t mind “autistic actor,” “actor with autism,” “neurodivergent actor,” Perhaps I’d feel differently if I’d lived with the label my entire life.
I think of it in the same way I think of any other trait I possess. I have hazel eyes. I’ve never been referred to as “A hazel eyed actor.” In general, it doesn’t affect my performance. If I fit the part, I’ll get cast. My being autistic doesn’t usually affect others, it just affects the way I interact with my world.
If it comes up organically, I will mention it. Most folks are still pretty weird about finding out you’re on the spectrum. It’s the flashing light that tells people something is wrong with you. I don’t see it that way myself. Even though I was only more recently diagnosed, I have been this way my entire life. If I wasn’t on the spectrum, I wouldn’t be me, and I like me. The same things that make me “different” and on the spectrum are some of my favorite personal traits. But most neurotypicals see it as blemish. Most people are uncomfortable finding out you’re on the spectrum. So, it’s not a secret but I don’t lead with it.”
I asked Melodie if there was anything she wishes was better understood by the average person about people on the spectrum.
“There are a lot of us. People always seem to think of the screaming kid having the meltdown in the mall as what autism looks like. Yeah, it can look like that. But it also looks like me. And meltdowns don’t stop when you hit adulthood. Yes, you are aware of your triggers so you’re better able to avoid them… but they can still happen. We live in a world that is pretty hostile for those with autism. A lot of folks think that there can’t possibly be as many autistic people as there are… you hear folks saying things like, “Why are there SUDDENLY so many autistic people?” It’s not sudden. We’ve always been here. We’re just getting diagnosed now. And the world we live in is getting louder and flashier, which are things that can trigger meltdowns. So, we live in a hostile world.
The other thing is that just a few decades ago many who are on the spectrum would have been institutionalized. And those of us who are considered “high functioning” (ie better able to pass as neurotypical) might be your eccentric aunt who collects Elvis memorabilia or the town blacksmith who created the most amazing things but never married.”
People on the spectrum experience empathy and emotions deeply which can be a strength for an actor.
“There is a misunderstanding about folks with autism—that they don’t experience empathy or emotion. We absolutely do. We’re generally HIGHLY empathetic. But, it usually takes us a little longer to process our emotions. This heightened empathy is a huge strength as an actor. We can truly, fully put ourselves in someone else’s shoes. It’s a vital skill as an actor.
Also, a lot of folks on the spectrum are natural copycats because we’ve been trying our hardest to copy neurotypicals so we fit into society for years.”
I asked Melodie if she could make widespread parameters to accommodate actors with autism during the process of a show from audition to closing, what would they be?
“Give us structure. Clearly defined expectations.”
“A lot of folks on the spectrum have dealt heavily with public humiliation. Sometimes that means trying something new in front of others is beyond terrifying. Don’t expect for me to take the acting direction you’ve given me on the spot, in the moment and go with it. I will take whatever notes you give me and work on it alone at home in my safe space. The next rehearsal expect to see the changes. But please don’t ask me to drastically change my performance in a beat.
Production crew, please follow the rules you’ve laid out. I cannot speak for everyone on the spectrum, but I’m a rule follower to a fault. If you tell me this is how it’s going to be, I will rigidly adhere to that. It is jarring to have the plans change. If I show up to rehearsal expecting we’re running Act 1, Scene 3 (because that’s what our schedule says) and instead you decide we’re going to work on Act 1, Scene 4 without any notice, I feel more than just inconvenienced. I feel sideswiped. The plan was changed. I don’t do well with changed plans or surprises. It almost feels like being lied to.”
“Again, I can’t speak for all folks on the spectrum, but I do think the reason this is so hard for me is because I am on the spectrum and I strongly rely on routine and predictability.”
“Like most actors, there is no place I feel quite as comfortable or alive as on stage. I think this is a universal actor trait regardless of whether the actor is neurotypical or atypical.”
There are things we just all know as actors, too, right? Like—don’t touch other people's props. If the prop isn’t yours, don’t touch or move it. In a production I was recently in I had an issue with another actor repeatedly taking my props to use as his own. I spoke with the actor and that didn’t help. I thought maybe the issue was that he was confused and didn’t actually realize they weren’t his props. I got a small basket for the prop shelf with my character name on it to house all my props. He still took my props. I complained to the production staff and nothing was done.
I’m sure this situation would bother any actor, but I think it bothered me more as an autistic actor because it disrupted my routine and added unpredictability (would my props be there when I needed them?), and because it triggered my very strong (and black and white) sense of right and wrong.”
“The question I truly hate when I let people know I’m on the spectrum is a variation of any of the following, “Really? Are you sure? Who told you? Were you professionally diagnosed?”
“I think more than anything the intent behind a question is more important than the question. I’ve had friends ask me when and how I was diagnosed with autism. I’ve had many beautiful conversations with folks about it. There’s a curiosity in some folks’ questions and undercurrent of, “Could I also be on the spectrum?”
Other questions, unfortunately, align more with a weird “gotcha” mentality. Like they’re trying to catch me in a lie. Like maybe they can expose that I’m not really autistic. Most of the time I do pass quite well for neurotypical. But I’m not. Witness one of my meltdowns when I’m experiencing sensory overload and I feel out of control. Then again, the sort of people trying to disprove my autism would probably think I was just being dramatic or something.”
What advice would you give to an aspiring writer or actor on the spectrum?
“I have three favorite things: Reading, writing, and acting. They all involve storytelling. Storytelling is a great tool for those of us on the spectrum. We get to practice social situations or create ones we’d be more comfortable with. I strongly suggest for folks on the spectrum to try theatre because besides it being a safe environment to try on different aspects of your own personality it’s also a great place to meet new friends. Theatre people are the best kind of people. They’re enthusiastic, empathetic, and willing team members.
Rachel and the Mighty Arm that Built Egypt is apparently not what anyone ever expects it to be. I’ve had lots of folks assume it’s a bible-based book. I’ll let you be the judge—but the book includes Egyptian gods, Aliens, and Ghosts… not exactly biblical. The protagonist—Dr. Rachel Conner is an Egyptologist. She’s a bit awkward. There are all sorts of interesting characters in the story—my personal favorite is Hester. She’s a small, spunky, old lady who’s an alien enthusiast. I actually just won silver in the Debut Author category of the Feathered Quill Book Awards for Rachel and the Mighty Arm that Built Egypt.
Without thinking about it, I gave a character a stim*. A verbal stim (Echolalia), which isn’t as talked about as much as other types of stimming. Liam tunelessly hums when he’s scared or very nervous. When I wrote this character I wasn’t thinking, “I’m going to make him autistic, I’ll give him a stim.” It just seemed normal to me because I do that. Liam and I share a stim—tuneless humming. Most of my stims are echolalia, in fact. I use repeated phrases over and over. I’m sure if other people spent enough time with me they’d think it was odd (I try not to do it in front of other people besides my husband), but it’s normal to me—something I’ve done as long as I can remember—so I didn’t think twice about making it a trait for one of my characters.”
*Stim: stereotypy, a repetitive act used to self-sooth or stimulate
Melodie doesn’t feel underrepresented.
“No, I don’t feel underrepresented because I know that there have got to be more people like me out there. I’m sure there are lots of entertainers who are on the spectrum who, like me, didn’t even know they were. They maybe knew they felt awkward and out of place, or felt horrifically overwhelmed by loud noises. Maybe they only care about three things, but they’re experts in those three things? We just haven’t really talked much, as a society, about the different facets of being on the spectrum, so a lot of folks don’t know they’re on the spectrum.
Jennifer Redeker, CRT Staff Photographer California Regional Theater- Elf the Musical
In terms of characters seen on page and screen… We’re not all Sheldon Cooper and we’re not all inconsolable kids having meltdowns. I think there are characters written for movies, tv, and in books that ARE on the spectrum, but it’s just not explicitly said. One I always think of is Matthew Cuthbert from “Anne of Green Gables.” Nowhere in the text does it say he’s autistic—autism wasn’t even a word yet when the book was written—but you can’t convince me he’s not.
If those of us on the spectrum are being given roles as neurotypicals, and neurotypical actors are playing autistic characters in non-offensive ways, then I see nothing wrong with it. If I’m completely ignored for all roles because I’m autistic and then some neurotypical actor gets to play the autistic part (offensively) then I would be pretty upset.”
Melodie was such a pleasure to learn from. I’ve read her book and gifted it to friends and family because I enjoyed it so much. Big thanks to her and her husband for the interview.
Learn more about Melodie and her work here.
Website: www.meellison.com
Facebook: www.facebook.com/meellison
Instagram: instagram.com/The_ME_Ellison
Twitter: The_ME_Ellison
Cover Photo: Courtesy of Melodie Ellison