Ascagne wrote:
Quote:
We all have enough on our plate to worry about what every second person might or might not really think of a now defunct diagnosis (Aspergers).
It's more insidious that what people think about a diagnosis - whatever Lanza had on the long run. It's what ideas people have when they witness the kind of comportment that Lanza seems to have had his whole life. Knowing that the person has a syndrome or whatever is secondary to that.
Let's quote this tweet from someone who had been a comrade of the killer :
Quote:
Adam Lanza has been a weird kid since we were 5 years old. As horrible as this was, I can't say I am surprised... Burn in hell, Adam.
As far as we know, before he became a mass murderer, this person had not done harm to comrades. But he was the "weird kid". The way that the students describe him is interesting. You can see that this one infers from his comportment the potentiality of the disaster. The reasons he gives are not very reasonable for making this assumption. Of course, we don't know Adam Lanza like these persons do. But... I would understand if we knew that the boy had already harmed, menaced his peers, or whatever. But it seems that this comrade draws his conclusions from "symptoms" that are different of that. It's strange : you have articles entitled "a deeply disturbed kid" that depict symptoms that are quite usual and benign for those who know autism or personality "disorders". The "I can't say I am surprised" shows that the anxiety people who could be described more or less like the
pre-killings Adam Lanza can have about their perception by society is somewhat legitimate.
It would be interesting to have more detailed testimonies about what people thought of him before. When I read some of these, I infer that the boy was "fidgety"
because he was quiet and because of his social "weirdness" (from a normal guy's point of view) and maybe because of his high intelligence, and I can't but tell myself that people could see me the same way, depending of my state (in my social mode, for example, when because I'm tired/anxious or whatever my "symptoms" are more apparent - in my "I'm in my family or alone at home mode", one would deem me crazy, but in an altogether sense - because I'm happy, I sing alone, I can be myself...). People remain quite (or very) prejudiced against mental differences and "oddities", and sadly, this kind of tragic events reinforces them in their views.
Yes; this is what frightens me deeply. Though the worst-case scenario would be some kind of organized backlash-- rounding us all up and locking us away, forcing us to accept antipsychotic treatment regardless of history-- those things are unlikely.
Shunning, fearing, ostracizing-- even lynching-- someone who fits the profile?? Outbreaks of violence against "the wierd kid" regardless of what that person has or has not done, simply out of fear?? Authorities tacitly sanctioning that kind of behavior??
Those were day to day facts of life when I was a child-- and will be again. I won't go so far as to say I ever feared lynching...
...but there were times that I feared to walk down a public street alone, as I knew that plenty of kids would happily throw rocks and whatever else they could get their hands on and that any adult who happened to witness the incident would quietly turn a blind eye unless I attempted to defend myself in any way.
I spent a lot of time in the woods, a lot of time alone in my room. I was fearful and good at making myself small. I learned not to speak, even if I had something to say, because to draw attention to myself was to risk a beating. I would suggest the same skills be taught to any spectrum child now. I was, later, very angry for the life I lived because I came to believe that I could have had something else-- and I would suggest that all spectrum children be taught not to resent the way they must live, but to act normal when out in public and to revel in solitude the rest of the time.
That's what we did before, back in Dr Grandin's day. Aspies from her generation fared better; there was a reason why. They blamed only themselves for their difficulties and learned to enjoy solitude, to enjoy what they had rather than to long for what they did not. They learned to conform well on the surface, to be happy to be able to do so, and to be happy to have the privilege of taking the mask off when alone.
And not to resent what they could not have.
_________________
"Alas, our dried voices when we whisper together are quiet and meaningless, as wind in dry grass, or rats' feet over broken glass in our dry cellar." --TS Eliot, "The Hollow Men"
17 Dec 2012, 8:57 pm
