Autism is poetry of the mind

In Ralph Savarese's wonderful book Reasonable People: A Memoir of Autism and Adoption, he discusses the incredible changes in his son DJ once he learned to read. Literacy gave DJ, who does not speak, a way to express himself, and his voice turned out to be quite extraordinary. It's a rare view into the way a non-speaking person with autism thinks.

DJ uses words fluidly, metaphorically. Sometimes his prose is clear and declarative, sometimes it's reminiscent of Romantic or Surrealist poetry. His father, who is a professor of English, understood this innately, and encouraged DJ to tap into his desire to connect.

Here's an early note from DJ to his dad:

Note to Dad

yes.dearest sad dad you heard fresh self and freshly responded deserting your fears and just freed sad dear saved me. yes. yes. yes. yes.

--DJ Savarese

Note the phrase "dearest sad dad." Who says people with autism don't have empathy? Notice how DJ so deeply understands his father's fear and sadness, and the persistence and care it took to find an open channel through which to communicate. Note the music of the phrase "just freed sad dear saved me"; the internal rhyme of "freed" and "dear." Say it aloud.

And the final declaration: yes. yes. yes. yes.

Can we learn more about poetry by studying autism? About autism by studying poetry?

***
The photo above is Isaac's first real independently-written note to us. If you've been following our saga, you may remember that we've been using social stories to help Isaac cope with his fear of unexpected noise, which has become focused (for reasons that are easy to understand) on fire drills.

If you can't quite make it out, the note says:

"Isaac is upset. I don't like fire drills. They are too loud."

He wrote it last week after a fire drill at school. While the prose doesn't rise to the sophistication of DJ's (he's only five, after all), it makes me wonder what will happen as Isaac becomes more confident about capturing his thoughts and feelings on paper.

It's been a gift for me. I hope it becomes a gift for him as well.

Comments

[kristen]

In a fit of anger, my son wrote me a note too this week. On paper it looked like this: no moms no moms no moms. Translated, he read it as such: No moms allowed in my room ever again.

Sigh.

[Susan Etlinger]

Kristen, hey, did I say there wasn't a downside?

[sending a hug]

[Niksmom]

Yes, celebrate the joys of communication in its myriad non-verbal forms! Both the up and down sides...

[Emily]

I've always thought of some of our more rhythmic, helplessly prolix poets as having something like autism (?). Dylan or ee cummings or even someone like Allen Ginsberg. Something about the way TH wanders his way through the language with repetition and invented words and a constant flow of rhythm makes me think of that. So, yes yes, I do think often of autism as poetry of the mind.

On a more quotidian note--they always tell TH when there's going to be a fire drill. Do they tell Isaac?