Well, gee, so people with autism spectrum disorders -don't- have the most education on autism???
If you want to understand any Spectrum, by definition you need to understand all the colors, and not just one color, one little piece through one filter that happens to be a pleasant "color" and is easy to deal with. Everybody likes blue, because it's a color frequency nobody can really see very clearly.
So, yeah, they get to deal with all of us -- all of our quirks and foibles and annoying habits -- because if they want to get autistic kids to the point where they become autistic adults, they really ought to know what autistic adults are like, and how we survived long enough to get to be Us.
I'm sure there are any number of fund-raising organizations who'd be more than glad to tell them a shortcut or an easy political effort formula they can follow. Usually involves beatings or locking kids in closets and whatnot, but hey, if that's their thing, they're asking in the wrong venue.
If they want autistic kids to get to where we are, they have to follow the narrow road and the straight gate. It isn't easy, it sure as hell isn't easy to explain, and if they think they can find an easy guide down the right path, they haven't been paying attention. There isn't one.
I sure as hell hope they figure that out, and are willing to pay the exhorbitant price to get here. And I'm not done yet. And I will probably never be done. But that's okay, because somebody was smart enough to make sure those tools were in the hands of the person who had to handle them.
That person was me. That person is the autistic person themselves. Parents get old and can't keep up. Parents die, as one of mine did. I can do what I've (barely) managed to do, because I had the tools to hand, and I did what was necessary to survive this long.
So if they want to live in the real world and deal with what it takes to get where we are, let them come here and ask specific questions. If they want magic, I'm sure the Amazing Lovass will be more than happy to wave some hands and show some smoke and mirrors.
They're asking the wrong questions, because they're afraid of the right answers.
And that makes me a pure, high-quality asshole, because nobody wants what I've said to be true, me included. "And yet it moves," as Galileo is supposed to have said. The truth has an annoying quality in the most demanding circumstances of remaining the truth.
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