Bristles. Scrubbers. Brushes. Anything with hundreds to thousands of small flexible sticks to run across your skin. The tickling sensation from a cacophony of tendrils swiftly dancing across an arm, back and forth like a pendulum.
The shouting ceased, the stomping discontinued, the nerves eased... for now. This was not my first interaction with someone on the Autism Spectrum, but it was my first time working with this individual. A mantra often used in the Autism Community, “If you’ve met one person with Autism, you’ve met one person with Autism.” This momentary realization and slight understanding of someone’s needs became an everlasting thought when continuing to work in this new position.
That was seven years ago. Much has changed in my life, many people came and went, others lingered around on the outskirts, but the constant has always been my job. Seven years is a long time to work somewhere. It’s obviously not as impressive as that one Aunt or Uncle who’s been plugging away in the same position for a remarkable amount of time, but small victories are still victories.
Now we are looking toward 30… a little over two years away. Retrospective thought reminds me that I’ve spent the majority of my young adulthood with many of the same people. The numerous people, many of whom grew and matured before my very eyes, engaging in the multifarious activities and memories, helped me learn more about myself in the process. It would be unwise for me to think I didn’t do the same for them. Unwise, untrue, and undeniable.
You help others when you help yourself, but the times when you’re not sure who’s helping who when, those are the moments you learn the most.