and tell those people, Leave Mia alone. She wants to be alone today.
Mia gets mad every time I have to say it. It doesn’t make me mad though. I don’t mind. I’m a good helper. And a good friend.
Finally Mia yells at me except I’m so surprised she’s yelling at me that I don’t even know what she says.
Emma comes into my Personal Space. Caitlin. Um. Listen. You’re really annoying Mia. You have to stop telling people to leave her alone.
But she wants to be alone. She said so. I’m HELPING her.
Emma sighs. You don’t Get It. Mia doesn’t really want everyone to leave her alone.
Then why did she say that?
I guess she didn’t want to hurt your feelings.
Why would that hurt my feelings?
Emma sighs again. She wants YOU to leave her alone. Only you.
Why?
Emma looks at the floor. Well . . . because . . . she thinks you’re . . . different.
I think Emma is the one who doesn’t Get It.
When we’re in music Rachel throws up so Emma takes her to the school nurse. The teacher is busy trying to get someone to clean up the puke and everyone is saying, Ew! P-U! so I go over to Mia and ask her, Why do you want me to leave you alone?
Mia and the girls around her giggle. Okay. Um. Because you’re . . . special.
Thank you, I say.
More giggles.
I mean, Mia says, you’re the kind of special that’s a little weird.
Weird?
Mia crosses her arms and breathes out LOUD. Your behavior? You know?
What do you mean? I ask.
She rolls her eyes. Your behavior is . . . well . . . disturbing.
Disturbing? My behavior is disturbing? The school shooter’s behavior was disturbing. I start shaking my hands because that word is too scary and I can barely breathe.
She looks at my hands that are shaking faster and faster. Yes. Disturbing.
I am NOT disturbing!
You’re disturbing us right now, one of the girls says. The rest of them start laughing.
Guys, guys! another girl says. Stop it! Stop laughing! She’s autistic. Like William H.
My hands are shaking really fast now. I am NOT autistic!
Some of the girls laugh.
William doesn’t talk. Can you HEAR ME TALKING?
Okay but—
William eats DIRT and SCREAMS when he gets mad! I AM NOT AUTISTIC! I am breathing hard and I want to jump out of my skin but I grit my teeth and shake my hands harder and turn and run away and I hear screaming and I don’t know if it’s music class or Mia or me.
I am sitting in Mrs. Brook’s room staring at the table. I thought special was good, I mutter.
We’re all special in different ways, she says. Special IS good.
Not if it’s disturbing. How come she called me disturbing? And guess what? She disturbs me!
I can feel Mrs. Brook nodding even though I don’t Look At The Person.
Besides, I tell her, I’m NOT autistic. William H. is autistic.
Caitlin, she says. Did you know that William is very good at soccer? And that he can play the piano? And that he’s my friend?
No. I knew that he had Mrs. Brook time but I didn’t know they were friends.
I like William, Mrs. Brook says. And I can’t play the piano at all or play soccer. We all have different talents—
I know, I say .
But Mrs. Brook talks right on top of my words —and just because we’re better at some things than William doesn’t mean we’re any better than he is.
I didn’t say that.
But it sounds like that’s what you meant.
I nod and sigh. It is what I meant.
Do you see how it’s not fair for you to—
Yes, I say. It’s my turn to talk on top of her words now. I Get It. William H. even remembers to smile a lot more than I do so there are several things he’s better at than me. I sigh again. But I’m still not like him. Not exactly. I Look At The Person. Am I?
We all fall on the spectrum of behavior somewhere. She puts one hand on one side of the table and her other grips the far side. Here’s the spectrum, she says. It’s a line and we’re all on it. Some of us are farther along the line than others.
I know from art class that a spectrum is
Mia gets mad every time I have to say it. It doesn’t make me mad though. I don’t mind. I’m a good helper. And a good friend.
Finally Mia yells at me except I’m so surprised she’s yelling at me that I don’t even know what she says.
Emma comes into my Personal Space. Caitlin. Um. Listen. You’re really annoying Mia. You have to stop telling people to leave her alone.
But she wants to be alone. She said so. I’m HELPING her.
Emma sighs. You don’t Get It. Mia doesn’t really want everyone to leave her alone.
Then why did she say that?
I guess she didn’t want to hurt your feelings.
Why would that hurt my feelings?
Emma sighs again. She wants YOU to leave her alone. Only you.
Why?
Emma looks at the floor. Well . . . because . . . she thinks you’re . . . different.
I think Emma is the one who doesn’t Get It.
When we’re in music Rachel throws up so Emma takes her to the school nurse. The teacher is busy trying to get someone to clean up the puke and everyone is saying, Ew! P-U! so I go over to Mia and ask her, Why do you want me to leave you alone?
Mia and the girls around her giggle. Okay. Um. Because you’re . . . special.
Thank you, I say.
More giggles.
I mean, Mia says, you’re the kind of special that’s a little weird.
Weird?
Mia crosses her arms and breathes out LOUD. Your behavior? You know?
What do you mean? I ask.
She rolls her eyes. Your behavior is . . . well . . . disturbing.
Disturbing? My behavior is disturbing? The school shooter’s behavior was disturbing. I start shaking my hands because that word is too scary and I can barely breathe.
She looks at my hands that are shaking faster and faster. Yes. Disturbing.
I am NOT disturbing!
You’re disturbing us right now, one of the girls says. The rest of them start laughing.
Guys, guys! another girl says. Stop it! Stop laughing! She’s autistic. Like William H.
My hands are shaking really fast now. I am NOT autistic!
Some of the girls laugh.
William doesn’t talk. Can you HEAR ME TALKING?
Okay but—
William eats DIRT and SCREAMS when he gets mad! I AM NOT AUTISTIC! I am breathing hard and I want to jump out of my skin but I grit my teeth and shake my hands harder and turn and run away and I hear screaming and I don’t know if it’s music class or Mia or me.
I am sitting in Mrs. Brook’s room staring at the table. I thought special was good, I mutter.
We’re all special in different ways, she says. Special IS good.
Not if it’s disturbing. How come she called me disturbing? And guess what? She disturbs me!
I can feel Mrs. Brook nodding even though I don’t Look At The Person.
Besides, I tell her, I’m NOT autistic. William H. is autistic.
Caitlin, she says. Did you know that William is very good at soccer? And that he can play the piano? And that he’s my friend?
No. I knew that he had Mrs. Brook time but I didn’t know they were friends.
I like William, Mrs. Brook says. And I can’t play the piano at all or play soccer. We all have different talents—
I know, I say .
But Mrs. Brook talks right on top of my words —and just because we’re better at some things than William doesn’t mean we’re any better than he is.
I didn’t say that.
But it sounds like that’s what you meant.
I nod and sigh. It is what I meant.
Do you see how it’s not fair for you to—
Yes, I say. It’s my turn to talk on top of her words now. I Get It. William H. even remembers to smile a lot more than I do so there are several things he’s better at than me. I sigh again. But I’m still not like him. Not exactly. I Look At The Person. Am I?
We all fall on the spectrum of behavior somewhere. She puts one hand on one side of the table and her other grips the far side. Here’s the spectrum, she says. It’s a line and we’re all on it. Some of us are farther along the line than others.
I know from art class that a spectrum is
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