Sunday, April 21, 2013

More Than A Token Part Two Of Six: The Dancing Fool

When I went to my first Saturday morning dancing group exercise class, I was overweight and uncoordinated. I couldn't keep up with the moves and I was not only the only autistic in the class, I was also the only guy. I was a bit intimidated and walked out for a quick second to "make sure I was in the right class" and left. I came back in, and while I was often the only guy for numerous dance classes (and the other guys that show up when there are some are suffering a lot from a disorder called "extreme toolism"), I have been not only the only person with autism in these classes, I also have been the only person with a differing ability in all but two classes (one where my roommate joined and one where I went with a fellow person with autism and there was a person with Down's Syndrome in the class). Regardless of how often I went (which ended up being quite regularly), I could hold my own and even did a Hip-Hop workshop class for 8 weeks and did a Dance Marathon for 14ish hours recently. The Dance Marathon situation was epic because I was able to meet people and strengthen the friendships I had and dance for a long time for a cause (St. Luke's Children's Hospital). And the epic feeling of completing a Hip-Hop workshop class for 8 weeks and putting it all together (with the instructor saying that I'm fun to watch), that made it even more satisfying. I have been able to make some of my closest relationships in my college career through dance classes and life is a dance, man or woman- life is a fleeting moment and all the various parts in it where you feel strengthened and loved, cared for and appreciated, trusted and confirmed, and all these other emotions that you feel with close friends. I'm able to see the dancing in my life work on my balance, my coordination, and my footwork, which strengthened my experiences in various things I do. I'm able to be especially spirited and feel loved through dancing. And I love life as a dance metaphor, because even when you move, you are structuring a dance that only you can make. To do something as good as a Dance Marathon and have energy until noon the next day is one of those trademarks of the "darn four letters" as I like to call ADHD. But the gift of autism is without parallel for what I can accomplish through these feet feats, as I've always loved to dance, I just haven't found non-impulsive ways to dance until recently. And to live life through a vicarious love for dancing and appreciation of others, that's what life is all about, whatever circumstances you are in. Stay tuned for the next installment of this series: the uninhibited worship/singing energizing non-token.

Sunday, April 14, 2013

More Than A Token

In my life, there have been many items of experiences where I have been the only person with autism. Either that or there is one other person who experiences short-lived experience in that kind of environment and then  fades out. Too often to some people, it would seem like they're a token, a kind of a person that is there just to equate to the status quo and try to fit in and not find anybody to do so when they're in that kind of arena. However, in church at Southminster, in my events with my Christian friends at Boise State, in the arena of the REC Center, in work at Albertson's, and in my Communication classes at Boise State, I feel accepted fully and I feel like I belong. I feel like there is a peace of me where I can fit in anywhere without really trying too hard and a piece of me that feels strengthened by odd-ball choices for jobs for an individual with autism (retail and car wash have been my only paid jobs), career paths (Communications, Leadership, and Public Relations with the goal of working in a non-profit is ambitious for anybody, someone who has autism it is practically unheard of besides me), activities (mainstreamed sports, dancing, progressive-thinking church items, being with numerous friends, supporting various campus organizations, being in school, crafting). These types of things people think I'm crazy for participating in as often as I do. I don't really care. There are too many stereotypes of autism that are perpetuated that I for years have tried to break down and avoid. Some of the biggest ones are "like Rain Man" and "similar to Temple Grandin". Though I think that in the next few years, comparisons will inevitably come to the rare autistic who is highlighted on TV for his sports, such as J-Mac (Jason McElwain, the manager who hit 6 threes when he suited up, comparisons will probably not come here, partially because I'm in my last year of basketball and partially because I'm a regular player and a Center/Forward), Cody Marzo (the autistic surfer, if he was more well-known, comparisons might come up because he loves the water and because I do and swimming is my fave sport and will be for the rest of my life, but that is where it ends), Rube Waddell (Hall of Fame pitcher who was thought to have autism, I've never pitched in a regulation non-Challenger game and this is my last year of softball anyway). So overall, I have many stereotypes to break down and mold into a person that is a brand-new, exceptionally rare breed. I am in my last 1 1/2 years of college and will be graduating with nearly the same Grade Point as in High School with 10 X as much items on my plate (B average or slightly above in both if all goes well in college the rest of the way, I think that's impressive because it shows drive, good decision-making, good work with hard professors as I will have had most of the toughest Communication professors at Boise State and will have gotten A's or B's in all Communication classes except 3, not to mention my B+, A, or A+ track-record for my Leadership minor and my adequate core record). And in most of the items, besides a select few, I am  often looked at as an ambassador, a pillar, a leader, and a friend to many. I am also looked at as a unique person in that I can structure pieces of how my life can be fully strengthened by my experiences with individuals of any kind, people with differing abilities, people with autism, or people who are in the mainstream section of various items. I may be the only one often-times, but I'm no token, I'm no person who is there just to have one. I'm more than a token: I'm involved, I'm participating, and I'm making all the things I do better. And that's just what the world needs.