What happens when you’re no longer cute?
June 19, 2007 by Kristina Chew, PhD
Filed under Health
The truth as I see it (and everyone has there own truth) is that when you are no longer cute nobody wants you on any side of any autism argument.
was a comment by Larry on the post Truths About Autism—-a comment that rings true for me indeed. When my 10-year-old 4th grade son Charlie was younger, how often did someone say phrases ranging from “he’s still not getting that program” to “it was a rough day,” only to quickly add, “but he’s so cute!”
I never knew what to say in return. There were too many half-formed but fully felt thoughts running through my head including “is that the only nice thing you can say?” and “thank you, but can we talk about some other ways to teach him this skill?” As The Onion satirically suggests in Endangered Species List Edited To Fit Poster, being “cute”—panda bear cute—can really pull at the heartstrings of potential donors (”it’s not like anyone is going to be inspired to protect wildlife by a photo of a nearly extinct medicinal leech. You go with what is going to bring in the dollars”).
The cute factor will only get anyone so far. I appreciate knowing that people think Charlie is a good-looking kid; it means even more when they can realize how much he can do, and how much he understands.
Well written!
Guess what? When it comes right down to it, wherever you go there you are. The important question is, how do we prepare our children to handle it? In other words, “Now what?” becomes a real next step.
I work hard to assist my aut son to be truly in touch with where he is, no matter where that is. Allowing him to pause in his experience long enough to let the present moment sink in. To actually feel the present moment, to see it in its fullness, to hold it in its awareness and therby come to know and understand himeself better.
If we are not careful, certain clouded moments/issues can stretch out and become most of our kids’ lives.
Kristina, Charlie will always be a looker
Livewell!
Let’s start a new foundation to fund educational programs and (especially) adult services. Let’s use our still-cute kids as poster-kids to get the money from folks (”Help Him Be Independent!Isn’t She Cute? Now Give Us All Your Money!”)
I noticed Autism Speaks is using a good bit of “cute factor” on those little video snips on their website. Even those “feed starving kids” places use this tactic. The “Won’t someone think of teh CHILDREN?” scheme for having people part with their savings.
Another dimension of the cute factor is that such flattery can be used to distract parents. As in “Oh, Mrs. Smith, she’s such a cute kid, we all adore her. [Sotto voce:]It looks like we won’t be able to fund speech therapy for her this year, but [back to enthusiastic volume:] she’s so cute and all the teachers love her, I’m sure she’ll get plenty of chances to practice conversation anyway…”
When you’re no longer cute, you’re either ignored or hated.
My “child” is now four inches taller than I am and (gasp) shaves. ‘Cute’ doesn’t quite cut it. I think he’s adorable, of course.
I think I remember posting about the ‘cute factor’ way back. I worry about when Patrick’s behaviour won’t be classified as “cute” when he’s no longer a cute little boy. When he gets older and how he looks no longer quite matches up with who he is. I know I’m not saying that right. *sigh*
I resent how people dote on my handsome son. My husband has noticed that professionals are willing to go the extra mile for him because he’s so attractive. He’d be surrounded by the teacher aides and come home smelling like perfume. Only one place it worked against him but I think they would have mistreated him anyways.
The general public, however is the opposite. They see him as “able” and completely freak out when he presents differently than they expect.
The girl I met last night isn’t physically cute anymore – not at twelve – but she is lovely. And deserving of assistance and accommodations, regardless of what she looks like.
OK a bit off topic but does anyone else suspect that the “John from Cincinnati” character is autistic – and very cute?
When you’re an adult and still “cute” people treat you like a child, often much the same way they’d treat about a 5th grader (that’s what I get anyway). This is in spite of how many times you show them the ID that says yes, you ARE 24, demonstrate yes, you ARE intellectually capable, et cetera.
And cute doesn’t actually GET anything anyway, just condescension in my experience.
Well, in my son’s case we were able to get more attention, services and quicker replies. Professionals would muscle us into appointments years quicker than others. People would interact more and in a positive way with him.
When you’re ugly, people assign negative qualities to those same traits. It’s always amazing to me how people can assign different reasons and judgements on identical behavior based on their looks (including age, sex, race and stature).
Of course, like you say in terms of condescension (and other predatory behaviors), cute can attract negative attention too.
It seems a bit ironic that I posted yesterday on the study about autistic children and stereotypes—–who’s stereotyping who, one could ask.
“And cute doesn’t actually GET anything anyway, just condescension in my experience.”
Yah I look younger than I am, which gives me that “sweet and innocent” look. Combined with the fact that I don’t talk much because I don’t want to shock people (or just typically prefer to stay out of arguments), they’re either really shocked when I speak my mind or apoligize for behavior I don’t even pay attention to because they presume innocent-me is offended.
What really annoys me is that when articles discuss autistic people, and the person happens to have an attractive appearance, the author has to point this out. Do that expect us to not be attractive? Apparently they don’t have a clue that autism does not alter the way one appears physically.
Well I certainly was not born yesterday and I understand enough of the culture of journalism that both Brian Deer and David Kirby operate within and several years ago to imagine what a fictional journalist might write of me.
“Larry has a striking if unsettling appearance as he rocks in his typists chair, leaving me the alternative seat, which he warns me may collapse underneath me at any moment.
I know that Larry does not approve of drawing any conclusions from a persons physical appearance or mannerisms but I feel I would be letting my readers down if I did not say something of the way he makes me feel uncomfortable and an alien in his world. He talks emphatically and insistently hardly giving me a chance to pose my necessary questions, and those dark glasses of his preclude any possibility of eye contact even if he were to condescend to looking in my direction as I struggle with my notes to present any realistic picture of how it all appears.
“So what are you going to write about me? ” he asks as I complete my enquiries. “Not another sob story and appeal for funds for the NAS, none of which will ever benefit me” he complains loudly.”
That based in part on a composite of what journalists have written about me and others, and there is a warning for Benet Middleton of the NAS if ever there was one, (if he ever gets to read this)
I was reminded of this when I updated my folky faux article for my most recent blog
http://laurentius-rex.blogspot.com/2007/06/reality-of-my-autism.html
The only time I will ever look cute again is if Hollywood gives me a makeover
scene: Waiting in line at market w/aut son. Unusually long line for this time of day(misjudgement on my part) .
son: “Starts to flap hands, jump in place and vocalize”
dad: (Initiating redirection techniques and wondering if this pound of sugar is worth it).
scene: People in line begin to give us the ‘look(s)’
Lady 1: (Standing ahead of us) How old is your son?
dad: (growls to myself) He’s 8.
Lady 1: (Again, gives us the ‘look’)
dad: (Having seen that look before and trying to get the hell out of the market before I have a full scale meltdown on my hands) My son has autism (gives her an info card about autism *never leave home without them*).
son: (About to blow his lid)
Lady 1: Please go ahead of me.
dad: Thats really nice of you.
scene: Make it through checkout avoiding possible meltdown( Much positive praise to my son. He did a great job calming himself considering the long line).
dad: (leaving the store w/son)
Lady1: Sir
dad: Yes, can I help you with the card?
Lady 1: No help with the card. Just wanted you to know that you have a very cute son.
dad:
scene fades to black