A new perspective on Amanda Knox?

Amanda Knox has been all over the news in the past few days since she was acquitted on murder charges in Italy. I read an article yesterday that I couldn’t stop thinking about. Written several months ago and prior to all of the latest breaking news in her case, the author ponders the possibility that Amanda might have Asperger Syndrome, a high-functioning form of Autism.

The author of the article takes you through the journey of some of Amanda’s less socially appropriate behavior and analyzes it with the filter of Aspergers. Some of the points made are compelling, but obviously it is not possible to draw a conclusion since she has not been professionally evaluated for such a diagnosis.

Now, I’m not here to discuss her guilt or innocence, so please don’t start yelling at your computer screen or angrily typing in the comments.

What got to me about the article were the questions raised in my mind about what Aspergers can look like for a teenager or young adult, especially one who is involved in or near a criminal act.

To be honest, the thought of how easily a high-functioning kid on the spectrum could get themselves into major, big time trouble with the law puts a nauseating knot in my stomach. There is always a scary and ever present potential for my boys and those like them to get into big trouble by complete accident, mistake, or misunderstanding.

You may recall about a month ago I shared the story of a young boy with autism who was handcuffed following a meltdown he had on a bus. Some of you reacted very strongly after reading that post.

Even now, with some things that have happened with my boys at school, I can see how easily something minor can escalate quickly. Trying to get to the core truth of an incident is like pulling teeth, and nothing is ever absolute because of the communication and processing difficulties they have in sharing pertinent information. Question marks always remain after conversations like that. I shudder to think about this in the context of a police interrogation. Dear God, I pray that we never have to experience that.

Agree or disagree with the conjecture about Amanda Knox, this article reaffirmed to me that there will always be lots of work to do to help prepare my children for a successful adulthood.

I encourage you to read the article and then comment below.     

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Telling the truth is hard (revisited)

A few months ago I wrote a post entitled, “Telling the truth is hard.” The next day I followed it up with, “Telling the truth is hard (continued).” Well, another issue cropped up shortly after those posts, so I thought it would be good to share an update with you now that some of the dust has settled.

In case you haven’t had a chance to read the old posts yet, I’ll bring you up to speed:

Monkey was having lots of trouble with honesty. It came to a head when he (1) stole money from me and lied about it, and (2) stole food and lied about it (you can read about how we dealt specifically with this issue HERE).

About a week after these incidents, I learned that he had stolen a toy from a child at school. It took us almost 2 more weeks to figure out the details of what happened and who the toy belonged to, much less return it to its rightful owner with an apology letter and sacrificial gift. (He did not like having to give up something of his to this other child! Can you say mean mom lesson?) 

Monkey said something before that I thought would be good to repeat now before we move along with the latest chapter.

When asked the question, “Why do you think it’s okay to lie,” he answered, “I don’t have the right equipment.” I was fairly astonished by his comment at the time and thought it was very profound.

The stolen toy incident spurred yet another in-depth conversation about honesty with both me and his dad. Monkey hates having these kinds of conversations. It’s hard for him to focus and stay engaged (much less stay somewhat still), and he gets very uncomfortable with having to talk about anything for more than a couple of minutes. It causes him stress, which makes it exceedingly difficult to have a meaningful conversation that could yield any sort of positive result.   

Some of the things he said were truly interesting and I thought I would share the highlights of what he told us as we pressed him for information about the incident.

Telling the truth is hard (continued)

Yesterday I told you about the problems I’ve had in the past couple of days with Monkey not telling the truth. I ended the post with his letters of apology for stealing money and then lying about it. Let’s continue the story, shall we?

After he gave me the fourth version of the apology letter, I decided I should just be okay with it. I was still unhappy with the series of events and knew his efforts weren’t ideal. But, what is ideal for him? Were my expectations too high? After all, his brain is different. It’s hard to know what he is thinking and how he processes information. He had completed the exercise, and I saw that he was still struggling with his feelings of upset at the situation. I would rather him take those feelings out on paper, so I respected his efforts and determined he was done. He was visibly relieved.

I ran him back through the process. He had been untruthful. He had confessed to both me and his Dad. He had written a letter of apology. Now he needed to ask for forgiveness through prayer. I helped him pray and then we cuddled in the chair together. He was still sad about not being able to play with his electronics and also losing his magnet. I just needed the hug from him. It can be trying to keep yourself together and maintain a serene attitude when you certainly don’t feel like being calm. I was tired from the whole ordeal but felt grateful that he allowed me to silently cuddle with him for a few minutes. I think it made both of us feel better.   

When Titan got home from work, we talked about what happened. I asked Monkey to bring out the book I had him read during quiet time and give it to his Dad. Titan flipped through the pages, gleaning an overview of the story and then asked Monkey to tell him what the story was about. I have to say, we were blown away by his summary. It was detailed and he was able to answer each of the questions we asked him. This in and of itself is a huge moment of progress for him, and we knew it. Comprehension is an area of struggle for him, so we were proud to see that he had not only read the story, but he could also talk about it successfully. We ended the day feeling better about the whole situation, feeling a sense of resolution by the time he went to bed that night.

The next day I woke up and came out to the kitchen. I saw both boys waiting for me with strange looks on their faces. The look on my face must have changed because Monkey immediately said, “He ate a granola bar,” referring to his brother. My mommy radar was on high alert and I knew that was a bunch of malarkey. The one good thing about Monkey’s dishonesty (if there is such a thing) is his age. He is young enough that he almost always has a “tell” when he is lying. It makes my job easier when he unhesitatingly blames his brother for something, because 99% of the time I know the exact opposite is the truth.

Telling the truth is hard

It’s conferences week so we have a different school schedule. Changes in routine are almost always a recipe for disaster. At some point I knew a behavioral episode was bound to happen. And it did. I expect things like this, but never know exactly how they will occur. Sometimes I’m pleasantly surprised when there’s been a change in routine and don’t see any transitional issues in either kid. I guess we weren’t so lucky this week. This time the issue is telling the truth.

Monkey lied. It’s not the first time and I know it won’t be the last. But, then he stole. And, then he lied some more. Now, a day later? It seems to be chronic. I mean, aren’t kids on the spectrum supposed to be truth-tellers? High-functioning adults on the spectrum are sometimes considered blunt or rude to neurotypicals because they tell it like it is. There is no euphemistic filter. If the truth hurts, suck it up. It’s the truth and they’re going to tell you all about it. Well, we have quite the opposite here. The lying is becoming pathological and it’s unacceptable from anyone, much less an 8-year old.

Things really escalated yesterday when I left the room for a moment. As I was coming back into the room, I heard the thudding of fast-moving feet on the floor. It was Monkey and he had a guilty look on his face.