Review: “Be Different”

Be Different: Adventures of a Free-Range Aspergian is a book I wish I had gotten when I was a bewildered teen with undiagnosed Aspergers. In this book, writer John Elder Robison (“Look Me In The Eye”) writes what is essentially the Missing Manual for people with Aspergers trying to make sense of the ‘nypical’ world.

While its advice is mostly aimed at younger people, many of the experiences Robison relates in his stories echo my own, almost eerily. His style of writing is breezy and laid back, alternating cringe making things with insightful and often humorous stories. If there was any doubt that people with Aspergers sometimes feel like we live on the ‘wrong planet’, Robison is right there with us. He explains how the Aspergian quirks stand out in a sometimes confusing and conflicting world; and does so in a way that makes sense to those of us who have many of the same sensitivities. I itched along with his description of annoying clothing tags. I understood his bewilderment in parties where other boys could talk to girls, but he could not. And I truly understood his thrilling discovery of the dancing lights in the amplifier tubes. (I was the same way with stereo equipment.) And I felt the same shift in focus in large groups- apprehension and fear when I did not have a task to do in a large crowd- confidence and ease when I did.

It was his thoughts on focus that really grabbed my attention- it is the same tool I use to cope with this often overwhelming and noisy (and noisome) world. It is how I manage to navigate sensory overloading stores like Bed, Bath, and Beyond, Best Buy, and those unfortunate super-duper mega-whomp grocery store ‘upgrades’ like Kroger’s. It is how I navigate the roaring scrum of lobbyists, press, and visitors at committee meetings. Focus and concentration (and scripting and practice) made me a successful saleswoman at Circuit City, and those skills continue in my current job.

As a female, I had my own rocky shoals of manners and comportment to navigate- girls were more heavily inculcated to behave and fit in than boys were. It was not easy. For me, books were much more interesting than gossip and boys were. My parents tried to get me to conform, but I held my own in totally rejecting ‘girly’ things as a kid. It wasn’t because I hated being a girl (I was rather indifferent, to be honest), it was because many ‘girly’ things- clothing especially- are scratchy, awkward, sticky, smelly, itchy, and achingly uncomfortable- from the lotions and potions (and disgusting foundation, lipstick and hair-spray) to the hateful panty-hose, shoes and skirts. To this day, I refuse to wear ‘drag’ unless I have to- and treat the occasion like a masquerade dress-up. Of course, I caught flaming hell for this as a kid- but I insisted on wearing pants even under skirts, and took my punishment stoically. (I got paddled only once- and was so traumatized that my parents had a word with the school staff, and I was left alone after that. I went to a different school the following year.) Still, my relatives tried- and failed- to turn me into a ‘proper lady’. I came to dread visits with my grandmother and aunts- they always had to try to ‘fix me up’, but I had my own way of doing things, which worked for me. I did learn how to ‘grin and bear it’ while around them- but the second I was out of their influence, the drag and the makeup came off, the hair was cleansed of its goop and put back into its ponytail, and I was back behind a book in my t-shirt and jeans.

I really liked how Robison turned his ‘special interests’- a trait that many Aspies, including myself- have, into a lucrative career. He was a high school dropout, I am a military tech-school graduate. I had to learn my electronics trade in the military, because my parents refused to indulge my curiosity about it when I lived at home. They wanted me to be a ‘normal’ female- interested in boys, marriage and motherhood. I wanted to be a scientist like Mr. Spock. I skipped the whole marriage and motherhood thing and worked my way into my own particular niche. Like Robison, my grades in school did not reflect the depth of my actual knowledge, but my demonstrated competency did. I learned how to learn- taught myself computers, and turned that hobby into my living. My knowledge acquisition skills are impressive- I suck up information like a sponge. Now I am indulging another special interest- electronic music- and might someday turn that hobby into a secondary living. Because my own social life echoed Robison’s, I had plenty of time to devour books and study arcane and esoteric things- both literally and figuratively. I expect that many successful long-time occultists like myself share Asperger traits of curiosity, intense focus, pattern-discovery and in-depth analysis. Same with science fiction fans- it’s a pastime that requires a lot of intense, solitary mental processing, something that people in the ‘nypical’ world do not do.

Robison’s description of how his homework assignments got sidetracked by larking off on tangents echoes my own experiences. I’d often come to the classroom armed with TONS of in-depth knowledge and background on what I was studying, but would still get a low grade because I forgot to write the paper.

Folks like us have our niches and special interests- and we do quite well. I have several that I keep up with, and having them enables me to take a break from one and refresh myself with another. And, in our own way, we make the world a better place for the rest of everyone. Writer Steve Silberman has said that it was probably the Aspergian qualities of the earliest geeks that helped get us out of the caves and into improved circumstances. Our ancient Aspie ancestors probably were the ones on the periphery who were knapping the spear-heads and axes and testing them while everyone else gabbed around the fire. It was that geeky single mindedness that led to improvements in all sorts of things- tools, transportation, sanitation, agriculture, writing… And it’s still happening. There’s someone right this moment huddled over a computer coding the next killer app, or designing the next gotta have gadget you’ll carry with you next year.

One thing that he didn’t get deeply into was our various ways of comforting ourselves. Ritual/habits are one- doing certain things the same way all the time (being a ‘regular’ is rather gratifying, to be honest). Another is ‘stimming’, small gestures or routines that calm us when the world gets overwhelming. I liked drumming my fingers or feet as a kid, but my habit irritated my parents and they stopped it. They also shamed me out of walking on my tiptoes and the drill team and military ‘corrected’ my gait. When I am stressed today, I tuck my thumb under my fingers and squeeze it. And I find a lot of comfort in music that has fat, filthy bass and strong rhythms. I also enjoy losing myself in complex melodies and sounds. It’s made me into something of an audiophile.

But the biggest takeaway from this book is something I’ve experienced myself- the transition from the bullied misfit and oddball child to the gifted eccentric adult. My tastes have only deepened as I’ve matured, but outsiders’ perceptions have shifted from the negative outcast-geek to the suddenly cool-and-sought after techie. My love of Star Trek and science fiction went from being a subject for taunting to being warmly enjoyed- especially by the ‘new’ fans of the 2009 film. The shifting of perception as one becomes an adult can be a plus, and it is encouraging to see Robison echo my own experience. It really does get better- in many ways. Maturity lends perspective and experience, and our habit of deeply studying perplexing things can help make us understand our ‘wrong planet’ that much better.

I do still find myself having to explain things to people- and sadly, my own family still does not ‘get’ me, but the pluses of having this incredible mind outweigh the minuses. I would refuse any ‘cure’- and am thankful that the greater world is beginning to see people like us as assets, rather than disabled and pitiable. Robison’s book is both a keeper and a giver.