What Defines Me (A Discussion About Labels)

In sociology, people are defined by 'statuses'. Statuses can be achieved or ascribed. Achieved statuses are a result of the person's own choices while ascribed statuses are involuntary.

My achieved statuses would include:

• Photographer
• Father
• Husband
• Guy who likes Reggae music

My ascribed statuses include:

• Man
• Caucasian
• Son
• Brother
• Guy with a red beard
• Father of a Child with Autism

Everyone has a 'Master Status' which they choose, either consciously or not. Their master status can be either ascribed or achieved, it's simply the single status that they feel defines them the most for whatever reason and it defines how they present themselves to others.

Whether we like it or not, my son holds the ascribed status of Autistic. I'm sure that we can agree, that status should not be his master status, defining him and consequently limiting what he can expect to achieve in his life. Since we all agree, that's why this post isn't about that. This post is about MY master status.

I spent about eight months last year, leading up to Joseph's diagnosis, mostly quietly, reading articles, watching videos and learning about autism. Once we got his diagnosis in August, it grew to consume a large part of my life. "Father of a child with Autism" became my master status, an ascribed one, probably because it's the one that I felt (and still often feel) least suited to handle, it's certainly the one that challenges me the most. Maybe because it lets me know that I'm not just a dad who has a hard time "handling" his kid.

So I don't want my son's master status to be "Autistic" and I don't want my daughter's master status to be "Sister of Autistic Guy," so can "Father of a child with Autism" be my own master status? Does that, by extension, make his master status in my eyes "Autistic"? Is there something wrong with that? For my sake, for my son's?

Happy 4th Birthday, Joseph

I should have started this post earlier, but I didn't.

It's Joseph's fourth birthday today. He came five weeks early. I had been working for a local outsourcing call center for two months, and I was in the process of trying to get them to approve my "paternity" leave. On the 3rd of January, Kristy thought she was in labor and we went to the hospital. They told us that she wasn't, and sent us home. The next morning, we went back and they decided that maybe she was after all. A few hours later, we had an extremely skinny, but otherwise healthy and full-sized baby boy.



Being Joseph's father has been more challenging than I expected. It's forced me to become better than I was, and we're both getting better every day.

A year ago, I felt like Joseph's personality and his level of interaction was very limited. Now, he's talking a bit, we're starting to understand more about his motivations and we're learning how we can help him overcome his challenges. I think if I he was someone else's child and I hadn't seen him for this whole year, he'd be barely recognizable to me.

To Joseph:

My son, you amaze me. Every day, I am proud of your persistence and perseverance. A year ago, you were a blank slate to me, with apparently no more personality than a newborn. Getting to know you and watching you develop as a person since then has been wonderful. Every day I see more evidence that you're totally aware of what's going on around you, and that you understand far more than we had thought you did. I'm both anxious and excited to see what kind of man you become and I can't wait to have a conversation with you and find out what is going on in that lumpy head of yours.

Though sometimes you decide you won't eat your dinner, and sometimes you become frustrated and lash out at us physically, I know that you're an infinitely sweet and caring child who is enthusiastic about discovering everything the whole world has to offer. This is why you smear a whole brand-new tube of toothpaste all over the bathroom sink, or sift through the cat's litter box at your grandmother's. I know that all of this is at least as difficult for you as it is for us, but somehow we will manage together, as a family.

For as long as I can remember, I've had trouble relating to people. I know that is probably going to be a challenge for you as well, probably much more so (though already you seem more popular with your classmates than I can recall being myself). I hope that we can make this mutual challenge into something that will bind us together.

An Early Christmas Surprise

We've been trying for a week to get our Christmas tree put up. Last evening, we started to get it done, but by 8 o'clock we were still untangling strings of lights. We decided to put the kids to bed, and finish the next day.

When Kristy and I went to bed, we heard Joseph sobbing. We went to check on him and found him whimpering in his sleep, laying on his front, with his knees pulled up to his stomach. We took him back to our room to comfort him and let him sleep in our bed. Kristy gave him some Ibuprofen.

Around 3AM I was awakened by the cheerful sounds of my son at play. I woke Kristy and I said, 'You know Joseph's awake, don't you?' Forgetting that he was not in his room when I went to sleep. She got up and went downstairs where she found him singing Jingle Bells (the whole chorus, and quite clearly too!), shouting "Merry Christmas" and dancing around the tree that he had finished decorating to the best of his abilities (taking into account his vertical limitations). Including the candy canes that he had climbed on the counter to retrieve from the top of the refrigerator. Then he got a chocolate cake out of the pantry, sat down on the couch in front of the tree and ate it, getting crumbs all over the floor, couch and my netbook (I was very relieved to find out the brown stuff stuck to my computer was cake and not something else that Joseph has been known to play with inappropriately in the past).

We put him back in his room, but as far as I can tell he stayed awake for the rest of the morning until it was time for school.

First, I thought this was just cute. Thinking it over repeatedly in preparation for writing about it has made me realize something more profound though;  Almost all of the rotten stuff Joseph does, he does for good reasons. Out of curiosity, enthusiasm or just plain joy. Not for laziness, greed, or selfishness. He's so excited about everything in his world that he can't deal with it in a disciplined way. I think this is a very important realization for me.

My son doesn't have a disability, he just has extra challenges.

There's nothing that Joseph is not able to do, it's just harder for him to do some things than it is for typical kids. But there are things that he is better at than typical kids.

Autism is about excesses and deficits. Everyone has them, people with autism just have them to the nth degree. Some deficits cause more problems than others, the difficulty he's having learning to talk would be the most obvious example. But he has already shown us that he has an exceptional (or excessive) aptitude for solving problems.

I used to think that saying someone was "differently-abled" or "x-challenged" was a bunch of politically correct rubbish. It still sounds treacly-sweet to me, but now I understand it better and have more respect for that way of looking at it. This is yet another way that having an autistic son has forced me to become a better person.

I've heard it put many ways, but I think the simplest is this: My son is different, not less. (I think I'm paraphrasing one of my many friends on Twitter.) The cynical voice in my head says that this is just a coping mechanism, but the rest of me tells that voice to STFU. ;)