The "(?)" comments are mine.
Some days it seems the only predictable thing about it is the unpredictability. The only consistent attribute, the inconsistency. There is little argument on any level but that autism(?) is baffling, even to those who spend their lives around it.
Boy! You should try being in minority of one, and having to live with NTs!
The child who lives with autism may look "normal," but his or her behavior can be perplexing and downright difficult.
Ditto
Here are 10 things every(?) child with autism wishes you knew.
1. I am a child with autism. I am not "autistic." My autism is one aspect of my total character. It does not define me as a person. Are you a person with thoughts, feelings and many talents, or are you just fat (overweight), myopic (wear glasses) or klutzy (uncoordinated, not good at sports)?
Sorry, but no! Autism does define my total character; I have an autistic mind-set, a notably different way of viewing and estimating events, which is rarely compatible with the wierd way NTs think. Agreed, it doesn't define my capacity for sports etc. but "character" has a specific meaning.
2. My sensory perceptions are disordered. This means the ordinary sights, sounds, smells, tastes and touches of everyday life that you may not even notice can be downright painful for me. The very environment in which I have to live often seems hostile. I may appear withdrawn or belligerent to you, but I am really just trying to defend myself. A "simple" trip to the grocery store may be hell for me. My hearing may be hyperacute. Dozens of people are talking at once. The loudspeaker booms today's special. Muzak whines from the sound system. Cash registers beep and cough. A coffee grinder is chugging. The meat cutter screeches, babies wail, carts creak, the fluorescent lighting hums. My brain can't filter all the input, and I'm in overload! My sense of smell may be highly sensitive. The fish at the meat counter isn't quite fresh, the guy standing next to us hasn't showered today, the deli is handing out sausage samples, the baby in line ahead of us has a poopy diaper, they're mopping up pickles on Aisle 3 with ammonia. ... I can't sort it all out, I'm too nauseous.
Not really; I wasn't even aware of "sensory issues" till recently (they may be non standard, but not notably debilitating) and tantrums weren't an option when I was brought up.
Because I am visually oriented, this may be my first sense to become overstimulated. The fluorescent light is too bright. It makes the room pulsate and hurts my eyes. Sometimes the pulsating light bounces off everything and distorts what I am seeing. The space seems to be constantly changing. There's glare from windows, moving fans on the ceiling, so many bodies in constant motion, too many items for me to be able to focus - and I may compensate with tunnel vision. All this affects my vestibular sense, and now I can't even tell where my body is in space. I may stumble, bump into things, or simply lay down to try and regroup.
Ditto
3. Please remember to distinguish between won't (I choose not to) and can't (I'm not able to). Receptive and expressive language are both difficult for me.
Eh? "won't" is different to "can't"! It's not me who has difficulty with this simple distinction!
It isn't that I don't listen to instructions. It's that I can't understand you. When you call to me from across the room, this is what I hear: "*&^%$#@, Billy. #$%^*&^%$&*" Instead, come speak directly to me in plain words: "Please put your book in your desk, Billy. It's time to go to lunch." This tells me what you want me to do and what is going to happen next. Now it's much easier for me to comply.
No, you've lost me there; I had problems with people saying "would you like this last piece of Swiss roll?"...and then playing hell with me for taking it!
4. I am a concrete thinker. I interpret language literally. It's very confusing for me when you say, "Hold your horses, cowboy!" when what you really mean is "Please stop running." Don't tell me something is a "piece of cake" when there is no dessert in sight and what you really mean is, "This will be easy for you to do." When you say, "It's pouring cats and dogs," I see pets coming out of a pitcher. Please just tell me, "It's raining very hard." Idioms, puns, nuances, double entendres and sarcasm are lost on me.
I am a concrete thinker, and recal no difficulty learning idiomatic speech, once explained (and surely no one understands "hold your horses" first time they hear it? Or maybe they do get the sense of it, I don't know for sure; either way it was no big deal).
5. Be patient with my limited vocabulary. It's hard for me to tell you what I need when I don't know the words to describe my feelings.
Well actually my vocabulary progressed rapidly for the mundane to the sesquipedalian, notwithstanding the myriad interstitial minutae...
There's a flip side to this: I may sound like a little professor or a movie star, rattling off words or whole scripts well beyond my developmental age. These are messages I have memorized from the world around me to compensate for my language deficits, because I know I am expected to respond when spoken to. They may come from books, television or the speech of other people. It's called echolalia. I don't necessarily understand the context or the terminology I'm using, I just know it gets me off the hook for coming up with a reply.
Not me; I have notorious difficulty remembering things I don't fully understand (these computer routines drive me nuts!) but as a child, understood far more than people (wanted to?) give me credit for!
6. Because language is so difficult for me, I am very visually oriented. Show me how to do something rather than just telling me. And please be prepared to show me many times. Lots of patient repetition helps me learn.
It's all relative; while my visual skills exceed my capacity for verbal understanding, both are far better than normal (and, even at fifty, I'm still a fast learner).
7. Focus and build on what I can do rather than what I can't do.
... There's more than one right way to do most things.
Very wise; horses for courses and all that! I've lost count of the number of times I've been told I did "exceptionally" well, in some test or other, only for the examiner to then round on my in apparent exasperation to complain my methods are "illogical" (Doh!).
8. Help me with social interactions. It may look like I don't want to play with the other kids on the playground, but sometimes it's just that I simply don't know how to start a conversation or enter a play situation. If you can encourage other children to invite me to join them at kickball or shooting baskets, I may be delighted to be included.
Or teach me what's the other kids expect of me? Don't assume I can work it out for myself!
9. Try to identify what triggers my meltdowns. This is termed "the antecedent." Meltdowns, blowups, tantrums or whatever you want to call them are even more horrid for me than they are for you. They occur because one or more of my senses has gone into overload. If you can figure out why my meltdowns occur, they can be prevented.
Or a smack on the bum, at a sufficiently early age, may be sufficient for most kids (NTs included; I saw this brat today ...well never mind, you've all seen the same I'm sure, and this kid displayed no sign of autism by any definition!). But yes, parents could learn to better avoid misunderstandings; I don't see why the kids keep getting the blame.
10. If you are a family member, please love me unconditionally.
It all comes down to three words: Patience. Patience. Patience.
Well I got lucky there, but the catch word was really "acceptance"; patience implies the parents still have unrealistic expectations? Mine just let me be myself (and look what happened to him, you're thinking? 
)
Work to view my autism as a different ability rather than a disability. Look past what you may see as limitations and see the gifts autism has given me. I may not be good at eye contact or conversation, but have you noticed I don't lie, cheat at games, tattle on my classmates, or pass judgment on other people?
And who cares about eye contact anyway (Oh, it means something to NTs does it? I wonder what).
You are my foundation. Think through some of those societal rules, and if they don't make sense for me, let them go.
No! No! No! Think about them, and then explain them, in terms I can undertand!!! Maybe I still won't get it, but at least give me a chance to try? If the "expectation" is indicated by body-language or similar, I won't even be aware of the signals!
I probably won't be the next Michael Jordan, but with my attention to fine detail and capacity for extraordinary focus, I might be the next Einstein. Or Mozart. Or Van Gogh.
They had autism too.
And Archimedes, Newton, and a host of others throughout both history and prehistory, and without such, we'd still be hiding in caves!
I'm quite sure I'm an Aspie. I don't like you saying I'm not, it makes me unhappy.