Before the New York State Writers Institute brought him to UAlbany’s Page Hall on October 7, I was unfamiliar with John Elder Robison, “a world-recognized authority on life with autism [and] a New York Times bestselling author of thoughtful and humorous books about his experiences living on the autism spectrum.”
Robison received his autism diagnosis at the age of 40. His child, a second-grader, had also been similarly diagnosed.
So here’s the dichotomy. John Elder Robison is a “photographer, educator, neurodiversity advocate, automobile aficionado, and designer of special effects guitars for the rock band KISS.” He is “a world-recognized authority on life with autism, a New York Times bestselling author of thoughtful and humorous books about his experiences living on the autism spectrum.”
But before that, he was considered a “social deviant” because of “his tendency to blurt non-sequiturs, avoid eye contact, dismantle radios, and dig five-foot holes.” His workplace encounters early on were challenging. Even now, he’ll chastise someone with a YouTube how-to video if thewe
His designs require advanced calculus, yet he failed basic high school algebra. He acknowledged that he still has no idea of the difference between adjectives and adverbs, and he did poorly in classroom English. Yet, because he loved reading, he would absorb the pages vociferously enough to model his writing based on his reading, writing lucidly and powerfully.
Books
Robison has written four well-regarded books – Look Me in the Eye: My Life with Asperger’s (2007), a memoir about growing up with Asperger’s syndrome; Be Different (2011), Raising Cubby: A Father and Son’s Adventures with Asperger’s (2013), and Switched On: A Memoir of Brain Change and Emotional Awakening (2016).
Here’s a pull quote from Look Me in the Eye: “Child psychologists who said ‘John prefers to play by himself’ were dead wrong. I played by myself because I was a failure at playing with others. I was alone as a result of my own limitations, and being alone was one of the bitterest disappointments of my young life.”
Fast forward. “Amid the blaze of publicity that followed [Look Me in the Eye], he received a unique invitation: Would John like to take part in a study led by one of the world’s foremost neuroscientists, who would use an experimental new brain therapy known as TMS, or transcranial magnetic stimulation, in an effort to understand and then address the issues at the heart of autism? Switched On is the extraordinary story of what happened next.”
Here’s a review of Switched On by an old friend, who he referred to, along with himself, as part of the OG (old guard): “A mind-blowing book that will force you to ask deep questions about what is important in life. Would normalizing the brains of those who think differently reduce their motivation for great achievement?”—Temple Grandin, author of The Autistic Brain.
Check out the interview, Neurodiversity in the Real World. The obvious takeaway is that we all learn differently and that we need to make space for people to take in information in varied ways, but that is probably difficult in the standard classroom setting.
Another advocate
Other members of the neurodivergent community attended the event and spoke briefly. Angelo Santabarbara is a New York State legislator who went into public service largely because he has a neurodivergent child. (Santabarbara was a victim of his current opponent’s recent sloppy election interference ploy.)
Robison, the neurodiversity scholar in residence at the College of William & Mary, commended Santabarbara directly from the stage—the Assemblyperson was sitting in the front row. Indeed, he champions all who advocate. The speaker noted that he serves on the Interagency Autism Coordinating Committee, which produces the U.S. government’s strategic plan for autism spectrum disorder research.
I was happy to see my old buddy Michael Huber, who used to wrangle the Times Union bloggers. He’s the Writers Institute’s communications specialist and was instrumental in pulling off the event.
thank you for this my 3 yr old granddaughter was just diagnosed, we are lucky to have a lot of help available for her. Even tho she doesn’t speak much she has devised ways to communicate her needs and is quite bright. The preschool intervention program is wonderful, they sent her home with a laminated trick or treat sign with thank you on thee side to use if needed yesterday. I worry about her and her future and this article presented some hope