A TPGA community member recently asked us what we thought of the McSweeney’s post An Open Letter To Anyone Who Has Experienced My Son’s Meltdown, which is (obviously) written from a parent’s perspective. Well, we were mostly sad. McSweeney’s is typically a delight, but we consider the letter to be yet another example of How The Progressive Media Sells Out Autistic People. So we asked Maxfield Sparrow, an autistic writer, to come up with an autistic perspective version.

We hope you’ll find Maxfield’s letter useful, and will leave copies atop the keyboards or devices of those who need to read it.


An Open Letter from an Autistic Child in Meltdown, Written by an Autistic Adult Who Still Melts Down From Time to Time

To Anyone Who Is Concerned,

Thank you for being concerned; it means you care about me and my family. But I notice you don’t understand what is happening, so I wanted to let you know why I am doing these things that got you concerned.

I am probably…

  1.  Being loud (or possibly WAY too quiet).
  2.  Trying to hide.
  3.  Running away.
  4.  Moving in ways that look unfamiliar to you.
  5.  Moving in ways that you don’t understand.

I am not…

  1.  Misbehaving.
  2.  Trying to bother you.
  3.  Spoiled.
  4.  Badly brought up.
  5.  Criminal.

I am Autistic and that means I…

  1.  Struggle getting my needs met.
  2.  Feel overwhelmed by too much sensory or emotional input.
  3.  Feel powerless in a frightening and chaotic world.
  4.  Have a hard time with emotional self-regulation and self-care.
  5.  Need your understanding and accommodation.

I wish you wouldn’t judge me or my parents harshly right now because…

  1.  I am having a really hard time and will need lots of recovery time afterward.
  2.  Meltdowns are painful and embarrassing for me, even if you can’t see that.
  3.  My parents are good people who are trying to help me the best they know how.
  4.  You have no idea how hard I do try and how much I do succeed every day.
  5.  We all tried to avoid this and are all feeling really bad that I got this stressed anyway.

You can best help me by…

  1.  Not staring at me or my family; we feel bad enough already.
  2.  Not touching me; I’m already coping with so much and your touch is too much.
  3.  Not making nasty comments to us or to other people in our hearing.
  4.  Helping me and my family safely move to a more private place if possible.
  5.  Being compassionate with us all for the rough time we’re having.

If you want to help prevent this from happening again…

  1.  Learn to recognize my signs of stress and help me get out of difficult situations.
  2.  Don’t think of stress-prevention as “coddling” me but rather as necessary care.
  3.  Let me take new situations at my own pace, even when it feels painfully slow to you.
  4.  Don’t over-expose me to stress, thinking I will “just get used to it” that way.
  5.  Be willing to change sounds and lights or number of people to help me feel safer.

If I ask a lot of questions…

  1.  I’m not trying to pester you; please listen to me, even if it’s the same question repeatedly.
  2.  It’s even more important to listen when it is the same question repeatedly.
  3.  My questions are to help me understand the world and feel safe. Help me with that.
  4.  Many questions can mean I’m eager but can also be a sign of stress; learn to discern.
  5.  Feeling ignored when I ask questions can build up to a meltdown level of stress.

When I melt down or otherwise struggle to regulate myself at your event…

  1.  It doesn’t mean I don’t love you. I can love you tons and still not be able to keep control.
  2.  It doesn’t mean I didn’t want to come. I can get overwhelmed doing things I really like.
  3.  It doesn’t mean I’m not grateful to be there. Meltdown is just so big it takes over for a bit.
  4.  It doesn’t mean I don’t want to come back. Maybe when there are fewer people?
  5.  I didn’t mean to ruin your event. Try not to make me or my family feel bad about it.

You might think I am old enough to be able to control “this kind of behavior,” but…

  1.  My nervous system is developing on a different timetable from other people my age.
  2.  A meltdown is like a seizure or vomiting: willpower and discipline will not prevent it.
  3.  If I am a teen or adult, please don’t call me a child or kid because I still meltdown.
  4.  I feel terrible during and for a long time after a meltdown; if I could stop them, I would.
  5.  Being able to do something else “beyond my years” doesn’t change my nervous system.

When people judge me and my family because I have meltdowns, I feel…

  1.  Like a burden (and that is a horrible feeling I hope you never experience).
  2.  Ashamed because of who I am and things outside my control.
  3.  Frightened that I might be a bad person who hurts others.
  4.  Sad and angry that I struggle with a world that is so difficult and unforgiving.
  5.  Like no one understands how hard I am trying to be a good, grown-up person.

Thank you for listening to me and trying to be more understanding, accepting, and helpful. I know you are afraid you will do or say something wrong, but the fact that you feel that way is a good sign. It means you are trying to be kind and helpful and your intentions will go a long way. Along with your heart-felt intention to do the right thing, learn more about autism—especially through reading the words of Autistic people who live this reality every day of our lives. The more  you know, the more confident you will be the next time you see and hear someone having a meltdown.

Above all, assume best intentions and strongest efforts on my part and on the part of my family, friends, and others who are with me. Follow my lead and, when I am too stressed out to help you help me, follow the lead of those who know me best. When you help me cope with a meltdown and when you help create an environment that helps me avoid meltdowns, you are helping to build a kinder, gentler world that has room for everyone, no matter what kind of nervous system they have. That is a great thing you are doing and you should be pleased that you are part of something so grand and loving.

  1.  Thank you for recognizing my value,
  2.  Thank you for being a person of value,
  3.  Thank you for caring about Autistic people,
  4.  Thank you for caring about me,
  5.  Thank you,

A bewildered and completely stressed-out Autistic who will hopefully be feeling much better soon.