How to Employ an Individual with Asperger’s

When I was an undergrad at Boston University, I took a course in the department of sociology in “medical administration.”  I was compelled to understand the social context of medical practice, for whatever reason.  I remember little of the course itself.  There was a very attractive older woman sitting next to me who amused herself by “adopting” me, which she thought gave her a right to criticize my then overweight figure and poor clothes.

I remember more about her than I do about the professor, a wacky guy the university had seen fit to import from New Zealand.  He had published a couple of relevant papers down there, but was still pretty new to the American health care system.  He told us that New Zealand had lots of sheep and was a big wool producer.  He talked about this great wool magnate who had this neat wool mill — a big one — and how it was he actually became quite wealthy. This was someone who knew about the tremendously loud machines that were used to process the wool.  The wool mill owner decided to hire only deaf people.  They asked for little; generally, they had problems finding jobs.  They were really happy and thankful to be able to work, so they worked hard.  They did not have any kind of a problem with the very loud machines.

That struck me so much then that I remember the story now, 50 years later.  Even then, I already felt that I would be in some kind of a management position as a physician and could do something that clever, becoming as rich and powerful as that New Zealand guy.  The professor had said something about Americans not thinking that way. The opportunity has not really presented itself.

Probably the closest I ever came was when I was running the day treatment center at the Veterans Affairs Medical Center in Oklahoma.  I had a lot of schizophrenic gentlemen who were not rich in social skills, but many of whom liked computers better than people.  Certainly, they related to computers better than they related to people.  I tried to get them computers, maybe even a little training.

It is harder to deal with invisible handicaps than it is to deal with visible ones.  The person who taught me the most about this was my own Mother-of-Blessed-Memory, who always asked me how to explain my brother’s disorder, his Asperger’s syndrome, to other people.

I watched the movie “Rain Man“ when my brother was still alive.  You can watch some of the links for an idea of how Asperger’s is portrayed.  Because of the magnitude of the celebrities involved, I suppose for many people it is the way they see Asperger’s in their mind’s eye, even now. The excerpts shown in the story show Tom Cruise taking his brother – Asperger’s brother — to Vegas.  He uses the “savant” side of this “idiot savant” to attack the tables and win some money.

My husband and I took Harry, my Brother-of-Blessed-Memory, to Las Vegas. There were no great table winnings and no fascination with multiple TV screen sports betting rooms – as we had hoped.  There was a lot of time in his hotel room eating the pizza we had sent out to get him.

As noted by the above information from the Autism Society, “idiot savant” is the archaic word for Asperger’s.  They are not stupid, but they are socially inept.  Generally, they have marvelous kinds of gifts, like calculation or music or any one of a number of others.  Some also call it high functioning autism. My Brother-of-Blessed-Memory had a menial job as an in house courier at a financial management company.  It hurt his feet to cover all the building with his cart.  He was not allowed to wear sneakers.  Buying him shoes was a job and a half for my Mother-of-Blessed-Memory, but she did it.  I thought less of both the workplace and my parents because Harry’s feet always hurt.  Mother-of-Blessed-Memory said they needed his salary, and they probably did.  They found a job for him where little or no social interaction was required.  He had to knock on doors, say hello, and deliver envelopes of various sizes.  I thought he was a sort of martyr.

CNN’s “Top Story” recently ran a story about a German company who only employ folks with an Asperger’s diagnosis to do software testing.  The owner got the idea after experience with someone in his own family, deciding that this population was an ideal match for that type of work.  He put together a company and hired job coaches to help with customer services.  I’m sure there are now many people who are probably happier at work than my brother ever was. I wonder why my New Zealander professor thought, even then, that Americans do not think like this.  My guess, if this is true, is that the profit motive outstrips the desire to help people find fulfillment at work.  When I think of such considerations, I sometimes feel like a cock-eyed optimist or an out of touch idealist.  In putting capitalism or greed or whatever Americans are doing first, we have somehow overstrained humanitarian ideals of maintaining a life that is maximized in quality and longevity.

I can speak only of medical care, the field I know best.  I have heard of a few “employ the handicapped” programs.  I have never heard about them helping the workers feel important or competent, or about giving them jobs that are suited to their “specialness.”  It’s got me thinking — maybe this is a problem for the American Natural Health Initiative.