Maybe There’s More to It Than Talk
February 22, 2008 by Kristina Chew, PhD
Filed under Health
Just a few days ago I noted to Jim that having a child who, like Charlie, does not talk much is entirely different from what I would have imagined things to be like. Had someone told me ten years ago, twenty years ago, that I’d be the mother of a child like Charlie, I think I would have just not have known what to think. How, I would have thought, can anyone be without speech, language, talking, the ability to read and write and express thoughts and hopes and wants and wishes in words?
Charlie is not non-verbal, but talking is only one way that he communicates, and probably not the main way for him. Just as crucial are his body language, his facial expressions, the tone and pitch of his voice, the particular phrases and sorts of melodies that he says/sings/uses. We don’t have rousing discussions of politics ’round the dinner table but I have a quite good sense and understanding of what Charlie is telling me and, at times, what he might be thinking (as much as anyone can know what another person is thinking).
I’ve been reflecting how much Charlie is able to tell us—through the language that he has, through his other ways and means—in reading about Carly Fleischman, the 13-year-old Canadian girl who has autism, and who communicates by writing on her laptop; one excerpt, from an exchange between Carly and reporter Carly Weeks:
I am a girl with autism that learned how to spell and is now able to tell people what I think Its not like I built a thousand houses in new Orleans or found a way for people who don’t have food get food I think the only thing I can say is don’t give up your inner voice will find its way out Mine did
I’ve learned a lot from reading what Tito Rajarshi Mukhopadhyay and DJ Savarese have written. We’ve tried to teach Charlie to type; so far, he has not been interested—-keeping in mind that Charlie just learned how to use the computer mouse last year; all in good time. The great lesson of life with Charlie has been to learn to communicate with him in the ways that he has more ready access to, even as we seek, gently, to give him words wo that he might tell us he’s excited or hungry, tired, happy.
Sure it’s a cliché, but Charlie reminds me that language has its limits, that you can say all the words in the world and still not make any sense, not get your point across. The voice — in whatever way, shape, or for — will out.
hi again, Ryan stopped his baby talk and was silent for about 2 years. he wouldnt say mama or dada or anything at all suddenly. but i knew he could understand me. i could see it in his eyes and in his reactions. for instance, “breakfast is ready” would bring him running. so i devised a game to see how well he could understand.
i started off with animal sounds “if you dont kiss me i will bark like a dog” he would rush to kiss me. i used “sqawk like a chicken” “crow like a rooster” “neigh like a horse” and various others. if he didnt do as i suggested “pick up those socks” or “come here” or whatever i would threaten to make these animal noises and actually make them for periods of time till he complied.
“pick up your socks or i will moo like a cow”
then i started to mix it up a bit by saying “give me a kiss or i will crow like a dog” he looked at me sideways and smiled. he was very surprised and also amused.
when Ryan was 3 we moved out to my dads ranch and he had some chickens, so i guess that is what made me say “kiss me or i will lay an egg like a hen” one morning. Ryans first words in two years were, “do it”.