Caught between the dizzying spectacles of their own fascinations and the rote conditioning of this competitive society, kids and teens on “the spectrum,” can be frustratingly naive, or stubbornly irrational in response to the many contradictions they have been told to live with.

By adulthood, most can learn not to be so narrowly focused, oblique, earnest, or blunt. They can maintain the gifts of autism — curiosity, fascination, and exploration, but on a wider expanse. With the support of family and friends, they can learn better social skills.

For many, it is a journey of survival. They are in danger of being misunderstood, misrepresented, or taken advantage of. A self-conscious kid attending school will likely get picked on. As much as they try to fit in, they inevitably feel left out.

Long ago, before I even knew what was wrong, I figured I was different. I spoke more to adults than to kids. I could hold my own in discussions with older people, but friendships with kids and teens my age were confusing.

These days I work with children with autism. My present role is as a type of interpreter. For instance, I believe that people on the spectrum aren’t so upset by a change in routine as they are challenged by a lack of clear communication. When typical people act and speak in competitive ways, we often feel too intimidated to say we do not understand.

We have been taught that autism is a disorder. Yet many reject that viewpoint. Being different is nothing to be ashamed of. Not long ago at a weekly men’s group, I stated, “As a man amongst men, I am an atypical man.” It was a statement of my own freedom to be unique.

It is exactly by accepting this kind of description of who we are that we find our inner power. Being capable was never a problem. Feeling worthy was.

I predict that autism will, over the years, become more fully-embraced, and I think it will ultimately engender a surprisingly facilitative diversity movement that will have a massive impact on humanity.

Thank you.