I was so wrong about autism by J.B. Handley
Jamie is sitting at the desk in our home office, directly in front of a computer screen where Dana Johnson, an occupational therapist based in Florida, is guiding Jamie through a process she calls “self commands.” I’m sitting to Jamie’s right, laminated letterboard in hand, serving as Jamie’s “CRP,” an acronym familiar to the brave few undertaking a new communication method for nonspeakers with autism like Jamie known as Spelling 2 Communicate (“S2C”), which happens to be the subject of a new book co-written by me and Jamie that will be released next week by Skyhorse Publishing on March 23rd. (By the way, CRP stands for “Communication and Regulation Partner.”)
On the desk in front of Jamie sit three objects: a roll of scotch tape, a watch, and a pair of sunglasses. They are evenly spaced out and the directive for Jamie is really simple: using the letterboard, tell your dad which object you will be picking up, and then do so. My job is also very clear: beyond repeating what Jamie spelled—and he spelled “I will pick up the watch”—say and do absolutely nothing. Just sit there. And, so I do. Jamie sits there. Dana sits there (on the screen). Minutes go by. Jamie appears no closer to completing his declared task. He tries to get me to tickle him. Finally, Dana adds the first verbal command of this exercise: “Jamie, eyes on it.” Jamie looks down, reaches out his hand, and picks up the watch. We all celebrate!
It’s fair by now if you’re feeling confused as hell, especially if you’re the parent of a nonspeaking child with autism. A year ago, I certainly would have been confused. The last year has been, beyond an insane whirlwind, the most joyous and unexpectedly miraculous time of my life, my wife’s life, and, more than anyone else’s life, Jamie’s.
Now is your chance to support Gospel News Network.
We love helping others and believe that’s one of the reasons we are chosen as Ambassadors of the Kingdom, to serve God’s children. We look to the Greatest Commandment as our Powering force.
In December 2019, I got an unexpected text from an autism mom based in Philadelphia—Honey Rinicella—with a remarkable story to tell about her son Vince, another non speaker with autism, slightly older than Jamie. It turn out that Vince, over the course of the few months, has emerged from his silent prison through the letterboard to reveal a highly intelligent, warm, caring, thoughtful soul. As Honey explained to me at the time, “We thought the height of his cognition was ‘I want juice’ and now this!” What is “this” exactly, I ask? Honey delivers the goods. A recent lesson Vince had with his S2C practitioner included the following back and forth, the all caps is Vince’s answer to the question posed by his S2C teacher, meticulously spelled out on a letterboard:
