Defying Stereotypes Since 1976

Posts tagged ‘poetry’

What Does Jim Morrison Have to Do with Neurodiversity?

I know now that wires
poke out through my skin
and stand at attention.
I hang letters and signs
from their silver, pin-prick
heads: autism, ADHD.
And my monkey still lives.
Ask your monkey sometime
for his name, and see
what he tells you.
- Excerpt from my poem “Two Monkeys, A Raven, and A Lizard King

It is quite serendipitous that the poem from which I just quoted lines was published today in Red Wolf Journal. And today, of course, is World Autism Acceptance Day.

Notice I did NOT say World Autism Awareness Day. I am troubled by the kind of awareness promoted by groups such as Autism Speaks. I think The Thinking Person’s Guide to Autism says it best when they said this in the opening paragraph of their post today:

“…to the autistic people we love, work with, fight alongside, parent, and (some of us) are ourselves, it’s instead a day to bust myths, speak out, and try to change the world to be a more autistic-friendly place.”

So on that note, I will meditate a little about another possibly neurodivergent soul: Jim Morrison.

A Few Words on So-Called “Obsessive” Interests
On many levels, writing about him today makes sense to me. For one thing, I try to understand myself, and the world, through acts of echolocation. My intense interest in things, people, and subjects happens to be one way in which I do this. As I said in another (unpublished) poem, “Elephant”:

Break off, and devour it
in chunks. I might take fifteen years to
process one picture, twelve years to
walk through the autobiography of one man’s
sorrow. Is the world made out of
music?

In this poem, I compare what has been termed by others as “narrow, obsessive interests” to the parable of the blind men and the elephant — not to compare autism with blindness but to illustrate the idea that no one ever has a complete picture of the world and that we might use our thoughts, our senses, and perhaps in the case of autistic people these interests to better understand the world.

Of course, with this discussion comes the question: who decided that there was something unusual about our interests as autistic people? I’ve been made fun of a little for my keen interest in The Doors, and in Jim specifically. When I was in college, those around me thought that my keen interest in R.E.M. was a little strange. My mother once joked that in my late teens, I had Nirvana on the brain.

With these particular groups of musicians, I studied not just the music, but them as musicians — their personalities, their personal lives, even the way they might think of and process the world around them. For example, I have found similarities between my childhood and that of both Jim Morrison and Michael Stipe (the lead vocalist of R.E.M.): our families moved around frequently as children, all of our fathers were in the military, all of us showed intense interest in literature and poetry as teenager, and that’s just to name a few. I have found that it is a human trait, not just a neurodivergent trait, to look at the lives of others similar to own and compare/contrast experiences to try to understand our particular experiences. And that’s exactly what I did, and have been doing.

Is my so-called obsessive interest in these musical groups — or some of my other interests such as the Enneagram, or social/cultural/racial issues — any more or less unusual, than, say, that of an obsessive Lady Gaga fan? Or is the keen interest of an autistic in, say, batteries or Greek mythology any more or less unusual than that of someone who’s really into One Direction? I submit that the answer to both of these questions is “no”.

I believe, however, that the term “obsessive, narrow interests” may seem to have a negative connotation depending on who’s observing, and who’s doing the judging — perhaps that judgement occurs because these interests are not things that we share with the majority of people around us. As a teenager in today’s Western cultures, it might be easier to find someone to gab on with for hours about One Direction than to find someone to gab on with for hours about a more seemingly obscure subject, such as Telugu-language poetry. (Of course, if you’re a teenager in Hyderabad, you might easily find someone to geek on about Telugu poetry — which proves that some of this depends on the culture in which one lives and is from. But I digress.)

Jim Morrison, in 1969 (courtesy of Wikipedia)

Now, About Jim
Sometime in 2008, Jim Morrison captured my imagination. I don’t know whether to thank or blame Oliver Stone for this. One spring afternoon, my fiance and I watched his 1991 movie The Doors — and it left me with way more questions than answers. So, I went off into reading, listening, and fact-finding. What I found was absolutely startling, amazing, and heartbreaking.

First of all, the real Jim Morrison was not very much like Val Kilmer’s portrayal in the Oliver Stone film. Stone may have been correct on some biographical details, but many of the events in both the Doors’ career and Morrison’s life were either rearranged, exaggerated, or flat-out fictionalized in the film. I won’t go into the exact details here, but I will say that instead of being a mystical, illogical junkie as was portrayed in the movie, Jim was way more complicated than that. He was a collection of contradictions: both a incredibly nice guy and an insensitive, misogynistic creep; both a brilliant and amazingly talented artist and an arrogant, self-important asshole; and a man who at his finest inhabited the concept of an alchemistic shaman but who was also an intensely pain-ridden, broken soul in need of healing himself.

And, my friends, I also suspect that Jim was neurodiverse.

Some might say that I am “diagnosing the dead” in the case of Jim. But consider, my friends, that we must move away from the paradigm of pathology and illness. Diagnosing suggests that there is a problem to be fixed — which is not what this is about. This is about identification.

In all the reading, viewing, and fact-collecting I have done over the last six years, a few things have lead me to believe that Jim was some form of neurodivergent. For example, bandmate Ray Manzarek documented in his book “Light My Fire” that Jim had a photographic memory to the point of being able to identify the exact book and page number of any passage read to him from a book in his collection — with his back turned so that he could not see the book from which the person read. I’m autistic with ADHD, and I have near photographic memory, but I’m not that good – my memory is much better with pictures and sound. I would compare Jim’s ability with that of Dr. Temple Grandin, who has documented that she was able to recite entire printed pages from memory as a teenager, and I have met other ADHD and autistic folks who also have this type of exceptional memory.

Of course, photographic memory alone does not a neurodivergent make. One of Jim’s own quotes may give away his own possible neurodivergence:

“I think of myself as an intelligent, sensitive human being with the soul of a clown which always forces me to blow it at the most important moments.”

It is not in dispute that we must read into this quote to determine its meaning. Jim is dead, and is not here to explain to us exactly what he meant. And even if he could, would he? This is a man with a million mysteries behind his life — and appears to have liked it that way. But it’s not hard to use this quote as a jump-off point, to make small mental leaps and imagine his difficulties with impulse control and executive functioning. After all, this was a man who often did not “look before he leaped” — whether it was shouting racial slurs at passersby for no apparent reason, sometimes sleeping with every woman (or man) he could get his hands on, or drunken, ill-planned onstage ranting.

The above quote suggests a struggle with forethought and considering the consequences of one’s actions beforehand…and the guilt, embarrassment, and endless face-palming after one has done the thing. I think of this quote and I’m reminded of an incident in third grade when, bored with the classroom lecture, I suddenly had the urge to stand up, interrupt the teacher, and shout at the top of my eight year-old lungs, “APER – RAPER – PAPER!” without even considering that two of these were not real words in the dictionary, or that I was interrupting a lecture. I, of course, found myself red-faced as I made the trek down to the principal’s office.

And speaking of school, this brings to mind an interesting quote from one of his poems, “As I Look Back”:

I was given a
desk in the corner
I was a fool
&
The smartest kid
in class

I can’t help but think of a wise-ass with an electric mind wired in such a way that he was way beyond his peers. And since neurodiversity, after all, promotes the idea that those of us who are autistic, ADHD, bipolar, and other variations are simply the products of different kinds of brain wiring naturally present in the human genome, wouldn’t this quote coming from a neurodivergent person make sense? The same kid who gives the teachers a headache and wisecracks so much in class ends up reading material way beyond his grade level — in Jim’s case, it was books on Arab sexuality and sixteenth-century demonology, as well as his well-documented reading of Nietzsche which began as a teenager.

Ah, Nicole, but what about his drinking and drug use? you might ask. Doesn’t that complicate things and make it harder to judge his possible neurodivergence? To be fair, yes, it does. But I also point to that as another possible sign that he was neurodiverse. Consider that many of us neurodivergents have self-medicated in an effort to help ourselves cope with life — especially life in a world not built for us. I have personally known autistic, ADHD, and bipolar folks who have done some form of this: in my case, it was alcohol. For the non-neurodiverse in my reading audience, consider this: if a substance provided you with even temporary relief from excessive mental stimulation, emotional and/or energy rollercoasters, or paralyzing sensory overload, might you not at least consider taking that substance? Many do. It may not be the best coping mechanism — and it may become destructive in our lives, as it clearly did in Jim’s case — but that is a very real reality for some of us.

So, What’s Your Point, Nicole?
I started thinking about this a few weeks back when I struggled with my own sense of inhibition, which had been born out of teenage fear. My family bullied me into trying to be “normal”, so I created a LOT of facades, subroutines, and a few inhibitive ideas which would ensure that I didn’t, as I once put it to my fiance, “fuck up my own life”. I was SO afraid that I would, because I believed that at heart I was an undisciplined, feral creature that would just go “crazy” and do off-the-rails shit that would ruin mine — and now, our — lives. I began comparing what I saw as an inner impulsiveness to trying to restrain a wild monkey.

Then, it occurred to me that Jim probably had a monkey, too. He was an intensely creative mind who was also impulsive, a risk-taker, and prone to both moments of brilliance and what appeared to others to be madness (believe me, because of my new realization of how neurodivergence is often pathologized, I do not use that word lightly). That quote about “blowing it at the most crucial moments” started to echo in my own mind. From this thought process was born both my poem “Two Monkeys” and a new realization: we who are neurodivergent can only be who and what we are.

I am certainly not suggesting that being neurodivergent is without its challenges, but I believe in many cases those challenges are not because of who and what we are — they are what we encounter while existing in a world system not created by us, and at the same time we still try to cope, try to get along, and even try to conform. Many of us are very familiar with the feeling of ramming our souls against invisible walls created by others when we engage in our usual behaviour. And this happens on many levels. Consider an ADHD child who struggles with sitting still in a Western-style classroom environment, or an autistic who cannot make eye contact, or a bipolar whose emotional passion and unique life rhythms are judged to be a pathology.

Whatever Jim was, he was probably nursing wounds as a result of slamming himself against invisible walls created by those around him, and in the end, partially unfortunately due to bad choices on his own part, he paid a heavy price. And I’m sure some of us neurodivergents are still nursing our own wounds. So I will say this: I am tired of trying to conform, my friends. My monkey is slowly learning how he and I can work together, and not against each other.

While I know we are far from having “overcome”, I am thankful that we live in such an era of knowledge and advocacy with such a potential towards understanding and acceptance of neurological differences. I wish Jim had discovered these same opportunities in his lifetime. So, I leave you with another of Jim’s quotes — what I call an invocation to open, and keep opening, doors to a brighter, better future — one in which we will simply be neurodiverse, free of any paradigms of pathology:

O Great Creator of Being
grant us one more hour
to perform our art
and perfect our lives

Introducing Barking Sycamores!

Barking Sycamores is a new literary journal that just went live yesterday and will begin publishing on April 1, 2014. We’re accepting submissions now and will be publishing on a continual basis.

What we are: Barking Sycamores is a poetry journal whose primary mission is to publish poems by emerging and established writers on the autism spectrum or with related conditions. We also seek to add positively to the public discussion about autism in the form of essays on autism and poetics, with special emphasis on autism’s interplay with the creative process.

For poetry: We seek poems that are breathtakingly beautiful, startling, sparkling, or imbued with color. We like poems that surprise us in some way; poems that perform an act of alchemy — i.e. transforming the ordinary into gold; poems that convey a vision of reality which is different than the expected or commonplace; poems that might cleanse the “doors of perception”, as William Blake put it. We particularly adore poems with a strong voice, a strong narrative, or bold, concrete imagery. We do have a preference for free verse poetry; however, we will accept poetry written in traditional forms.

For autism and poetics essays: We seek work that uses strong facts and/or well-documented observations to support a solid thesis statement. We are particularly interested in essays about:

  • how autistic or other neurolgically divergent traits aid in the creation of poetry;
  • autistic or neurological divergent traits that might cause a poet to break common rules and conventions in poetry (and do this well);
  • how an autistic or neurological divergent individual might use the creative arts (especially poetry) to express him/her/zirself when ordinary communication means do not suffice;
  • how an author’s work might reveal his/her/zir neurological divergence.

Main site: http://barkingsycamores.wordpress.com/
Submission Guidelines: http://barkingsycamores.wordpress.com/submission-guidelines/
About: http://barkingsycamores.wordpress.com/about/

#LoveNotFear Flashblog Event Today

Greetings, WWA readers!

Today is the #LoveNotFear flashblog event in which autistics, family, friends, and allies are invited to share their thoughts on what the statement “love not fear” means to each of us. The event is a creation of the Boycott Autism Speaks movement. I’ve chosen to participate to help indeed spread love, and not fear, and thus help promote a greater and better understanding of autism.

I’m sharing a poem for this event, “The Sky Belongs to All of Us”, which is up at my Raven’s Wing Poetry blog and the #LoveNotFear blog will also be publishing many fine write-ups by autistics and their allies today on this theme.

Speaking of which…for a very long time, I have felt that my best way of self-advocating as well as promoting understanding, not to mention the very act of activism in and of itself, is through my art. I am a poet — I speak best in verse. Some of you may have noticed that I have not posted very much here at Woman With Asperger’s for a while. My art is taking over my life, and in a way that’s a good thing.

I will be making a public announcement in more details about my plans for Woman With Asperger’s in the next few weeks. Until then, enjoy the articles and things that are here, and please keep commenting! I will try my best to respond soon.

-Nicole

Speaking in Tongues (This Is Autism)

ravenswingpoetry:

Today is the “This Is Autism” flash blog event, and the moderators of the official TIA flash blog (http://thisisautismflashblog.blogspot.ca/) have invited people to share what autism means to them. This is my contribution. Pop on over to Raven’s Wing Poetry to read it.

Originally posted on Raven's Wing Poetry:

Hello there! If you’re looking for this poem, it has been published in Red Wolf Journal.

Click here to read it.

View original

Listen (An Open Letter to Autism Speaks)

ravenswingpoetry:

Autism Speaks has decided to hijack Washington and present its own agenda about autism. Time and time again, they have not included autistic people in their leadership, promoted “cause and cure” thinking about autism, has not represented the interests of autistic people, and continually paints autism as a tragedy. I speak best in verse, so please consider jumping over to Raven’s Wing Poetry and reading my open letter (poem) to Autism Speaks. Oh yeah — and please share. :)

-Nicole

Originally posted on Raven's Wing Poetry:

after Michael Stipe

Listen: I have a voice. It is my own.
I did not install you as a little charm box
to hang in the back of my throat
and chime discordant when I send
wind from my sails up to the world

to produce sound – nor did
I rip a little patch of my soul from
the cathedral of strings inside my neck
and give it to you to own and
sound as you please.

View original 608 more words

Listen to my Appearance on “The Poetic Travels on the Autism Highway” Radio Show

If you missed this past Saturday’s episode of the Poetic Travels on the Autism Hwy radio show where I was a guest, have no fear! The show, hosted by Kelly Green and Erik Estabrook, is available as an archived broadcast for your listening pleasure. We spoke about autism, poetry, creativity, activism, and a host of other topics (yes, even the J. Cole incident). You can visit their show on Blog Talk Radio and listen at:

http://www.blogtalkradio.com/erikevision/2013/07/27/poetic-travels-on-the-autism-highway

I had a great time talking with the hosts and sharing my poetry, which included three selections from Novena (remixed): “Icarus”, “Meridians”, and “You Don’t See It”. I also read “Tribe”, which appeared in We’ve Been Here All Along: Autistic Over 35 Speak Out in Poetry and Prose. And don’t forget: Novena (remixed) is available August 14! More information about the new book is at my other blog, Raven’s Wing Poetry.

-Nicole

On July 27, I’m a Guest on the Poetic Travels on the Autism Hwy Radio Show

Autism HwyOn July 27, I will be a guest on the Poetic Travels on the Autism Hwy radio show, hosted on Blog Talk Radio by Kelly Green and Erik Estabrook. I will be discussing my poetry, how autism relates to my work, and performing some of my poems (including three from my upcoming chapbook, Novena (remixed)).

The show is scheduled for 4:00 PM Eastern/1:00 PM Pacific Time. The link below will take you directly to the broadcast:

http://www.blogtalkradio.com/erikevision/2013/07/27/poetic-travels-on-the-autism-highway

I am honored to be a guest on their brand new show, of which this is the second broadcast. Tune in on July 27! You won’t want to miss it.

-Nicole

Aside

I Am Here, Where Are You? Blogging, Autism, and Phatic Communication

Last month, Leah Kelley of 30 Days of Autism reposted my poem “Code” on her blog as well as our online exchange. It is a very rewarding experience when we can reach out to each other. This is probably one of my favorite things about blogging is the ability for echolocation — or as Susan Brackney, author of the “Lost Soul Companion” puts it, phatic communication, giving an example of how birds tweet to each other. We autistics who blog begin by saying “I am here, where are you?” and that was certainly one of the reasons for which I started Woman With Aspegers.

What else do we have to say? Listen to our language.

Thank you Leah for reposting the poem, which appears here.

Aspie Poem: Code

Dear H: for those of us to whom words
sometimes do not easily run, saunter, or even
amble: we speak in code. We think in code. We
construct our languages painstakingly
like little Tolkiens, separated by time, distance, and space:
but the Hobbits and the Elves ain’t got
nothing on us. We have the dexterity
of pictures, objects, or even
moving film to send messages to world,

(more…)

We’ve Been Here All Along: Autistics Over 35 Speak Out in Poetry and Prose

Two of my poems, “You Don’t See It” and “Tribe”, were published in We’ve Been Here All Along: Autistics Over 35 Speak Out in Poetry and Prose. The anthology, edited and published earlier this fall by Rachel Cohen-Rottenberg (also the creator and webmaster of Autism and Empathy), features writings by twenty-two autistics speaking about, as Rachel put it in the description on her website, “issues as growing up without a diagnosis and coming to understand themselves in adulthood through the lens of autism”.

“You Don’t See It” is probably my best statement about what having Asperger Syndrome is like. “Tribe” (unpublished until this anthology) is a statement of pride, a recognition of how autistics throughout history have shaped and colored our world. And I am the frizzy-haired little girl on the upper right corner of the cover.

I am 36 years old and on the younger end of the age group in which the contributors are, but I share some things in common with some of the other contributors: late in life diagnosis. When I was growing up, the conventional wisdom was mostly that girls weren’t autistic and autism wasn’t that well-known…so the “gifted and weird” or “difficult” labels were slapped on me. Couple that with Asperger Syndrome not being an official diagnosis until 1994, the year I graduated high school. I went undiagnosed until age 34.

I have not had a chance to read except a small portion of the book, but from what I have read you will find intelligent, beautiful, eloquent, glaringly truthful, and sometimes painful writing, all from autistic writers. I strongly recommend reading the anthology and what we have to say about autism…from the perspective of the autistics themselves.

-Nicole

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