I Need...

“I've countless times seen the eyes of a child with Asperger's well up because I simply got what they meant, because I simply understood.” - Richard Bromfield

The Tree

I am feeling the love these days. Next week, I will leave the job I’ve held for nearly a decade. Already, the hugs have started from co-workers. Already, the email messages of thanks, the stories of memories we shared and even those we didn’t, and the looming spectre of the goodbye pizza party. As if all the love came out of hiding. It leaves me to wonder, after next week, where will it go?

John Gorka said, “People love you when they know you’re leaving soon.” Certainly, endings amplify feelings already there. With some people, it’s okay to say, “Yes, I’ll stay in touch, I’ll come back to visit,” and not really mean it. But I also have friendships I would be sad to see end, that I hope will survive outside the familiar context. It has worked for me sometimes, but many times, it hasn’t. There are more ways than ever to keep in touch these days, but it still comes down to the free will of both people.

A song called “The Tree” by Blitzen Trapper found its way into my head this week. It suggests that all our relationships connect us to others in the way a tree is made up of interconnected branches. Our bonds to friends and loved ones are there for us throughout our lives, as a tree that grows from the ground to the sky, “never-ending.” As the tree is a living organism, our relationships too remain alive, a chain connecting us to each other, to the twists and turns of fate, and to the universe.

It’s not a new metaphor, but it’s an appealing one. What a comforting thought that as we go along in life, we can simply reach out to the people we need, when we need them, as if reaching to the next branch on a tree. But is that overly idealistic?

It is human nature to love and to connect. If these things are so important to us, why is it so difficult to stay connected? Why are there people who say they don’t feel a connection to anyone? Some are afraid to let others get too close, or that they drive others away. Some say no one else has been able to know them the way they’d like to be known. They have known love in their life, and they wonder where it went. I admit I feel unsure myself sometimes. Do any of us really feel sure?

My own tree has branches that are vibrant and branches that are dormant. It needs constant feeding to grow and remain strong. Different branches need different care. Relationships take time and they take work. But they can surprise us. When a relationship is meant to last, it doesn’t feel like work, and it will find a way.

When I change jobs, as with any life transition, branches will shift. It’s inevitable. The love I’m feeling from co-workers now will go somewhere. I want to believe it won't go away. I believe it will be there, wherever, whenever I need it. I won't worry about how. Maybe I’m not meant to understand, as the song says.

You must be blind if you’re to see,
Must walk behind if you’re to lead,
Must be the soil to the seed,
Never-ending.

Dreams or Happiness

My job search is over. Earlier this week I accepted an offer, and I start July 1. My policy has always been to mention my employer as little as possible on this blog, so if you want to find out where I’m going, please head over to Twitter, where I made the announcement.

My search lasted all of 34 days. I realize how incredibly lucky I am to find something so quickly in these difficult times. At the same time, it has been the longest five weeks of my life. If you have a stable job that supports your needs in life, please take a moment to be thankful. You can really take it for granted until one day, it's gone.

I am going to a nonprofit organization that does truly amazing work. It makes a meaningful impact nationwide, with a staff of about ten. It has grown from grass roots beginnings in response to an urgent and recognizable need. It offers me a new challenge, and potential for professional growth. I met most of the staff, and they took time to get to know me, and we mutually decided it was a good fit.

I’m leaving a place that does an ever-growing number of things, for a place that does one thing, and does it well. I’m leaving a job where I did too many things to count, for a job where I’ll do two things: write grants, and work with a database. It will be nice to get back to basics, and keep it simple, and grow from there. That’s why, of all the options available to me, I think I took the best one.

In the past, I’ve written here about wanting to work in the autism field, and called it my dream job. I’m not going to be doing that. But I did have the chance. And I turned it down. Because it just wasn’t the right fit.

I got lots of advice during my search. As decision time neared, two pieces of advice stuck in my head. The first was: “Remember to weigh the benefits all around. Happiness level, health benefits, money benefits etc.” The second was: “You realize there's no such thing [as a dream job], right? Grass on the opposite side of fences, as green as it may appear, may well appear so green because of bad chemicals that will ultimately make you quite ill.”

Ultimately, I made the choice that fit with my lifestyle. I chose a casual work environment, where one of the two offices is in a cottage next to a barn, with people who took the time to understand who I am and what I can do. I chose to go where I can come home in the evening and have time to go for a walk in the park, or work on my cartoons, or catch up with friends. I’m making sacrifices in other areas for these things, but from this vantage point, that’s true job satisfaction.

I wonder too, whether I’ll make a better advocate if I’m not living and breathing autism for a living. Very few bloggers do that, if any. Would I still like to work for an autism organization someday? I don’t know. I will continue to be an advocate, and for now, that’s good enough.

So what is a dream job? Is there any such thing? Even when we're sure we know what we want, it may not be the truth. Maybe a dream job is one where you like the things you do on a daily basis, where you have space and time for the personal life you want, and where you enjoy the people you work with. And just maybe, you make a few friends for life. If that’s the case, I’ve already been living the dream, and I’ll go on living it where I’m going.

15 Reasons Why Chat Rooms Are Great for Aspies

In the past few months, I’ve become a chat room aficionado. Chat rooms have been around since the early days of AOL, yet I avoided them for years. There was something intimidating, and risky about the idea, and its stereotype as a hangout for lowlifes and losers. But since I decided to overcome my fear, my experience has been unquestionably positive.

Many Aspies have found their comfort zone in chat rooms long before me. Others remain hesitant to try, whether out of fear of socialization or discomfort with the medium. I’d like to address the latter group here, and list some reasons why I think chat rooms can be especially beneficial to those on the autism spectrum.

1. A chat room can be confusing at first if you’ve never experienced it. But if you hang around long enough, you’ll get used to the flow.

2. It’s okay to sit back and observe until you feel comfortable. Just say hello, and if you like, greet others when they arrive. You will get an idea of who is a regular, and who will greet you time after time, and you can return their greeting.

3. People in chat can talk all at once, and even have multiple conversations. In person, this is extremely hard to process, but in chat, you have time – the transcript is right there on your screen.

4. Pauses in conversation are allowed! You can take your time in responding to a question – even several minutes!

5. No excessive use of um... like... you know… (Note, I didn’t say no use.)

6. Aspies often have trouble when a conversation suddenly ends, or changes topic. In chat, you can pinpoint where the topic changed, by scrolling up. Less whiplash!

7. In text-based chat, NT’s don’t have access to their usual conversational cues – sarcasm is very difficult to do, and nuances of expression aren’t easily detected. So the NT's are thrown off a bit, kind of like we Aspies are in in-person conversation. So it somewhat levels the playing field for us.

8. Aspies love rules, and chat comes with its own universe of rules and language. Learn new and exciting words, like wb, or -__- or o_O!

9. Also, learn the special secret tricks of chat, like how to do an action, or change your font color. You kind of have to ask someone how. Like the olden days of passing language down by word of mouth.

10. When chatting with people using a webcam, you can look at their faces without making eye contact! You can chat by text with them if you’re not on cam yourself.

11. If you turn on your webcam, you can see yourself on screen, like a rear view mirror. Handy to check if you are wearing an appropriate expression. Wouldn’t that be nice to have in person?

12. If you don’t like someone’s face, hide their cam! (Don’t tell them when you do this.)

13. Chat has an immediacy to it, and at its best, a personal connection, that I haven’t found in other social media, such as Twitter and Facebook. I haven’t given up my social media, but I prefer chat when I’m in the mood for human interaction.

14. Awkward goodbyes are allowed in chat! When you’re out of things to say, just say you’ve got to go now. Or, just leave!

15. A chat room can be a place to go and find other people to talk to, on those nights when there is no one around, and nowhere to go.

Always be safe online. Chat with a community you know, or with friends from real life. Know whether the chat room is accessible to the public, and don’t give out your name or personal information.

Chat has become an integral part of my social life. My cyber-acquaintances are important connections to me, who I enjoy interacting with, and sharing ups and downs with, unbounded by geography and with an unlimited variety of life backgrounds. A few weeks ago, one of our chat regulars passed away at a young age, from a chronic illness. We all felt the loss, even if we hadn’t talked to him much, we got to know his sense of humor, his personality, and his spirit. We were reminded how real these connections become.

There’s something wonderful about how you can walk into a room where everyone has an alias, where some are half-asleep, some are eating their dinner, and some are drunk, and you just might find their most honest self. You might find the truth.

Unfortunately, autism chat rooms are few and far between. Wrong Planet is probably the most active. If you know of an active chat community, please share it in the comments. You can also create your own public or private chat room on Tinychat – it’s probably my favorite platform.

So go ahead. Go find a chat, and click to enter.

Jobs for People with Asperger’s: Grant Writer

You don’t often see Grant Writer listed among the best jobs for Aspies. As a successful grant writer myself, I’m here to tell you why Asperger’s helps me excel, and why it might be the career for you.

I didn’t plan on becoming a grant writer. Most of us probably didn’t. One day, someone asked me if I could write a grant. So I took a look at one, and I did. Sounds too simple to be true, right? Last week, we looked at some of the key advantages of Asperger’s in the workplace. As I look back now, many of those traits have been directly responsible for my success:

Seeing patterns: Whenever possible, I will use an old grant as a model when starting a new one. Even if it’s an unrelated topic. I’m looking for paragraphs or whole sections I can repurpose, keeping the structure, but changing the details. I find it easier than reinventing the wheel.

Focus: Perhaps the most challenging part of a grant is taking on an unfamiliar topic, especially at the very beginning. It can often be difficult, as an Aspie, to shift focus from one subject to another, and sometimes I lag behind my co-workers in picking up on a new topic. However, I make up this ground quickly. My familiarity comes from gradual and repeated exposure to the topic, more likely alone at my computer screen than in a team brainstorming session, and from asking questions as needed. I fill in my knowledge gaps one at a time: What is the need? Why will our idea work? How are we measuring success?

Logic: Everyone hates to do logic models. A logic model is the one page table that lists in columns your community need, inputs, outputs, and outcomes, short and long term. Basically it summarizes your plan in excruciating detail, connecting the dots for the reader. I used to hate to do logic models too. But I’ve changed my mind, because I realized something: If my logic model makes sense, the entire narrative will fall into place, simply by filling in the details. So now, it’s one of the first things I do when I write.

Outsider perspective: Aspies are used to viewing things as an outsider. When I write, I’m often taking direction from people more experienced in the field. I must understand the subject matter for myself, so I can write knowledgably about it. Therefore, I'm careful to articulate concepts so they make sense to me, eliminating industry jargon when possible. The advantage of this is that the grant reviewer has likely never heard of our company or our idea before. Yes, grant reviewers are human beings, too! They need a clear explanation so they can make a decision to fund or not. So in writing for my own understanding, I’m writing for the reviewer as well.

Puzzle solving: Sometimes grants have a strict page limit. Even 30 pages, which sounds like a lot, is not. So it becomes a puzzle, because I can't simply cram in as much information as possible; I must make it fit within the parameters given. I’ve learned many tricks to do this, such as trimming down a data table from a full page to a half, or fitting in more paragraphs by adjusting my spacing, while still complying with the 12 point font and 1-inch margins. I think of it as giving more bang for your buck, by putting the same amount of information in the smallest possible space.

Unconventional thinking: I imagine I work very differently from NT grant writers. I like to have my structure in place first, even with the wrong information, before I go to work on the content. For instance, if I have 42 pages and a 30 page limit, nothing else matters to me until I can trim it down, before I add anything new. Then, through repeated editing, I’ll read through and see what’s missing, and fill it in, then repeat until nothing is missing. I may take a different path to get there, but it’s the final product that matters.

Attention to detail: By the time a proposal is done, I know every inch of it. If someone comes along at the last minute and says, change the title of this position, or change this goal from 75% to 80%, I know exactly where the updates need to be made. Usually, it's more than one place.

I never took a class on grant writing. I don’t think I’ve ever been to a training. Even so, I’ve brought in about $16 million for my company in a little under ten years. I’ve helped open new buildings, and make it possible for people to stay healthy, find homes, and keep custody of their children. Grant writing is often tedious and thankless work, but it makes many good things possible. It takes the right person to do it well. And just maybe, it takes an Aspie.

Asperger's Advantages in the Workplace

"Chances are, you’re working with someone who has Asperger’s syndrome.” – Barbara Bissonnette, The Employer’s Guide To Asperger’s Syndrome

Here are some of the qualities an employee with Asperger's brings to your workplace:

Logical thinking

Originality in problem-solving

Attention to detail

Technical ability

Accuracy

Tolerance of repetition and routine

Honesty

Loyalty

Reliability

Persistence

Conscientious

Knowledgeable

 Integrity

and much more.

It’s true – you may have an Aspie working for you, without even knowing it!

And if you don’t, what are you waiting for? Hire an Aspie today. It may be the best decision you’ve ever made.

Additional source: Tony Attwood, The Complete Guide to Asperger's Syndrome, p. 295

Let It Burn, Let It Burn

Ten days ago, I lost my job to a layoff. At the moment, I will be out of work June 30. In an instant, my world turned confusing, and uncertain. Each day is a roller coaster of emotion. It will be quite awhile before things feel “normal” again.

We all can be knocked on our backs by a crisis. If you are neurotypical, you have your support network to catch you. But if you have autism, as we’ve seen, your support network is often lacking. Not only are you not well-connected to people, you don’t “read” them well even in a clear state of mind. And thus, the same crisis hits you that much harder.

I’ve been told by many, “I’m here if you need to talk.” “I'm here if you need anything.” And that is a wonderful thing, until I realized I haven’t the slightest idea what to do with those offers.

I have found encouragement and support come to me from the least expected people. And, I have found a casual brush-off from others who I expected to be supportive.

I have been an actor, suddenly on a constant audition, every move carefully choreographed. I have practiced giving measured and neutral responses when necessary, compiling a mental checklist of how much information to provide to whom.

I have been a ghost, among others going about their normal routine, talking of cruises, or allergies, or playfully teasing at one another’s expense.

They tell me, it’ll work out. They tell me, one door closes and another opens. That’s all well and good, but they don’t know how the waiting feels. They imagine, but they don’t know, how different the world looks, inside a crisis.

I sat around a conference table with a bishop who blessed our meeting in Jesus’ name. The bishop greeted me warmly, and asked how I was, and I lied and said I was well. And though I don’t believe in his God, I found myself wondering what words of wisdom he might have for me.

I've been noticing things I never noticed before. I stopped at a tollbooth, and the toll taker wished me a nice day. I heard the kindness in her voice, and it gave me strength, like finding a penny on the ground.

I walked past an industrial scrap yard in the city, beside a chain link fence, and on the other side, a dog appeared and followed alongside me. He didn’t bark, he simply looked at me, wide-eyed and mangy, mirroring my steps until I passed the boundary. I think he would have followed me home if not for the fence.

I sat alone at a picnic table, eating my lunch on a sunny mid-afternoon, while maintenance workers rode past on golf carts, and senior citizens stretched and checked their maps. I watched a young woman approach an empty swing set and get on, though she was clearly not a kid anymore. She swung for a good long time, all by herself, without a trace of self-consciousness. I thought how good it would feel to do the same. But not today. There was work to be done.

I’ve had the new P.J. Harvey CD on repeat all week, “Let England Shake,” and in my head, the song, “Written on the Forehead,” about the people in a war-torn city watching destruction all around them. Some, in a last act of free will, throw their possessions in a celebratory bonfire: “Let it burn, let it burn, let it burn, burn, burn...” Others try to swim to safety: “Through tons of sewage, fate written on their foreheads.”  Neither group can escape the ravages of war.

Likewise, none of us can escape change. We can try to swim against the current, but we’ll likely fail. Or, we can let our old world burn, and seize control of our destiny rather than accept some predetermined fate.

I’m choosing to do the latter, now that war has come to my doorstep. I'm letting the old reality burn, so the new can take its place. It can be hard to find guideposts as that reality shifts and reshapes, but I need only remember to be myself, and be proud of who I am, as a person with Asperger’s. If I can do that, I am sure to emerge stronger from this crisis.