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, myopic or klutzy?

2.                 My sensory perceptions are disordered.  This means the ordinary sights, sounds, smells, tastes and touches everyday life that you may not even notice can be downright painful for me.  I may stumble, bump into things or simply lay down to try and regroup.

3.                 Please remember to distinguish between won’t (I choose not to) and can’t (I’m not able to).  Receptive and expressive languages are both difficult for me.  It isn’t that I don’t listen to instructions.  It’s that I can’t understand you.  I need you to speak directly to me and in plain words.

4.                 I am a concrete thinker.  I interpret language literally.  It confuses me when you say “Hold your horses, cowboy!” when what you really mean is “Please stop running.”  Idioms, puns, nuances, double entendres and sarcasm are lost on me. 

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.  I may be hungry, frustrated, frightened or confused, but right now those words are beyond my ability to express. 

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.

7.                 Focus and build on what I can do rather than what I can’t do.  Like any other human, I can’t learn in an environment where I’m constantly made to feel that I’m not good enough or that I need fixing.  Trying anything new when I am almost sure to be met with criticism, however constructive, becomes something to be avoided.  Look for my strengths and you’ll find them.  There’s more than one right way to do most things.

8.                 Help me with social interactions.  It may look like I don’t want to play with 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, I may be delighted to be included.

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.

10.              If you are a family member, please love me unconditionally.  Banish thoughts such as “If he would just…” and “Why can’t she…?”  You didn’t fulfill every last expectation your parents had for you and you wouldn’t like being constantly reminded of it.  I didn’t choose to have autism.  Remember that it’s happening to me, not you.  Without your support, my chances of a successful, self-reliant adulthood are slim.  With your support and guidance, the possibilities are broader than you might think.  I promise you I’m worth it.

Work to view my autism as a different ability rather than a disability.  Look past what you may see as limitation 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?

You are my foundation.  Think through some of those societal rules and if they don’t make sense for me, let them go.  Be my advocate, be my friend and we will see just how far I can go.

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, Mozart or Van Gogh…they had autism too!