No Hablo Social Skills
Autism and Social Skills as a Second Language
Once upon a time (roughly 15 years ago!) I was a young, puckish college student majoring in both Physics and Secondary Education. Not only was I “just” double-majoring, but I actually completed dual degree programs to get a B.S. for Physics and a B.A. for education, so I was busy busy indeed.
In the state where I was attending college, initial teaching licensure requirements there meant that I had to take a linguistics course. The logic, ostensibly, is that since communication is such an important part of education and every teacher is a teacher of literacy, it would actually be important to know both the science and the art behind language. I scarcely use linguistics knowledge in the classroom directly, but overall the class was pretty interesting and valuable. This famously culminated in the prof exclaiming “Sean, you would have made an excellent English major!” Sorry to let Professor KP down, but I am writing this, so I guess that counts for something?
Anyway, one of the topics that we covered in the class was language development. Generally speaking, from birth until five-ish, babies and children are in a language acquisition phase. They don’t need to be “taught” their native language(s), just plop your babies in a language-rich environment where they’re exposed to it, and, BAM! They start speaking the language too. This seemingly magic ability to just absorb gibberish, recognize it as patterned language, and accurately create vocalizations that match the patterns and rules of the language doesn’t last forever though. After roughly five or so years of age, the language acquisition part of the brain powers off, operating under the assumption that by that point you’re on the path of being a native speaker in one or more languages and that it’s job is done.
And yes, you may notice I’ve used both singular and plural forms of “language” here, because this actually works regardless of how many different languages you’re immersed in at this phase. If you’re a baby with English-speaking parents, but a Swahili-speaking au pair that only speaks to you in Swahili all day, chances are you will simultaneously acquire both English and Swahili, recognize which language is which, and eventually fluently speak them both. You will be bilingual.
“But Sean,” you’re saying, “What do you mean I lose language acquisition after the pre-school years??? So many high schools in America teach foreign languages like Spanish or French!”
It’s certainly true that you can learn a foreign language in high school, but there’s some subtle but important differences. Languages learned later in life use different parts of the brain for acquisition and are learned through cognition. When I learned Spanish in high school, I learned it the same way I learned any other subject in high school, like Physics or Calculus or American History. This is vastly different than primary language acquisition, which you just sort of absorb.
I’m very glad I had the opportunity to learn Spanish in high school1 . Truthfully, I use my knowledge of the Spanish language nearly daily. Since I am teaching in the 21st Century, in a suburb of a city with a large Latino population, I get numerous students who are either bilingual Spanish/English or speak Spanish as their primary tongue and are English Language Learners(ELL). Being able to communicate with these students in a language other than English is a gift. But I’m no fool; I know my Spanish skills would never, ever cause me to be confused as a native Spanish speaker. In fact, while my Hispanic students appreciate that I can speak Spanish, they of course have a laugh at my strong Gringo accent. But just as my ELL students at times feel like a fish out of water because they lack the understanding of the English language’s subtleties that a native language speaker would possess, I also lack ability to effortly converse in fluent Spanish (I never will be able to roll those “r”s!)
Sometimes, I think being autistic is kind of like that. I like to fancy myself as a pretty bright guy. I say this not to boast, only to point out that I have an ability to observe and learn from social encounters, a privilege that other autistic folks, particularly those with intellectual impairment, do not possess.
As a high-masking autistic, you slowly learn “rules” for neurotypical conversation. You become observant, and pick up on subtleties, and through hypervigilance and observance become better at neurotypical conversation over time.
But this doesn’t come effortlessly. Just as I am constantly thinking while having a conversation in Spanish, translating in my head from my native language to Spanish for each word that needs to come next, so I am constantly thinking in neurotypical social situations. Just as conversing in Spanish requires that ability to translate, so too am I constantly “translating” from my autistic thoughts and tendencies and way of processing into neurotypical social skills and conversation.
I think this metaphor is quite apt, and is helpful for several reasons. First, if you’re a neurotypical person who is reading this, I hope this impresses upon you the cognitive load required of me, and autistics more generally, to converse and socialize in group settings.
Second, I hope you recognize the possibilities of miscommunication and are aware enough to respond with grace. There are many words in the English language that sound very similar in both English and Spanish, called cognates. When you hear the word "telefono” in Spanish, you don’t have to think very hard to know that it means “telephone” in English. But the abundance of these cognates leads us into a false sense of security. If you’re ever feeling embarrassed and speaking Spanish, don’t ever say you’re “embarazada”, or you’ll soon become more embarassed; embarazada means pregnant! I think sometimes that social skills and non verbal communications are filled with these “false cognates” as well; facial expressions and gestures and tone of voice that are quite similar but convey different ideas. Many times, I think I’m saying and intonating exactly right, only to deeply upset or offend someone. And the abundance of digital communication via text message and memes makes this both easier and harder!
And if you’re, ahem, like me, perhaps this metaphor will make it easier for you to feel self-compassion. Do you beat yourself up that you don’t remember all of that foreign language you learned in high school? No? Then don’t beat yourself up for a social slip-up either. Your native language is not “normal”, and your ability to communicate socially doesn’t have to feel effortless. Because it’s not effortless. Cut your self some slack!
Me gusta ardillas cubierta en chocolate! Adios!
Shoutout, by the way, to Mrs Gayle Yost even though she’ll never read this. Outside of my STEM class, she was the most impactful teacher I had, and Spanish with her was the most impactful class I had in high school! (She may have even taught us all the Spanish curse words on my final day of senior year, which has come in handy numerous times, as a listener!)