On the surface, this may seem like a self-pitying, whining, woe-is-me tome, a forty-year-old loser with no lucrative career, income, or a decent amount of money who is still supported by his mother and doesn't know how to drive a car, which is almost literal retardation in Southern California, where I live. This article may seem at first glance a mere rambling by someone who blames the world and everyone in it for all his troubles and failures.
Though some people will think as such after reading this, I feel that would be an incorrect description. This is not intended to be self-pitying, whining, or woe-is-me, nor is it intended to coerce anyone into feeling sorry for me. This is intended as a person with a disability - Asperger's Syndrome - describing his sufferings and struggles with a world that he feels he does not in, and his ostracism from it; a world that, in his view, clearly seems to exclude him from the milestones that it has to offer.
I believe that I can write about this disability and the experiences that go along with it, because the person describing his sufferings and struggles in the world due to this condition is me.
Before continuing, a definition of Asperger's Syndrome is certainly in order
A high-functioning form of autism that negatively affects social interaction. As part of the autism spectrum, characteristics of this disorder include difficulty making friends, obsession with different topics and subjects, not understanding that other people have beliefs and opinions different than one's own, saying inappropriate things without realizing it, and in my case, talking to myself and reacting badly when I feel others are unnecessarily picking on me or treating me like a lesser being.
Putting it differently, “Aspies” are generally seen as a little strange. Sometimes they are seen by others as extremely strange. As one of the 20 million people with Asperger's worldwide, I am definitely no exception. Bullied in elementary and junior high school, ostracized in high school, and after a reprieve with modest social success in college (and even then I was rejected and ostracized by a number of people), rejected in the workforce, my experiences with this condition has definitely rendered me as an “odd aspie out”.
What I was unaware of throughout my life, until much later on, was that in the world of children and adolescence, different equals bad. Different equals dorky. Different equals derision. Different equals social rejection, and in many ways I was as different as one could get. AS - short for Asperger's - is often called a “Geek Syndrome”, because of people, children and adults, acting so different from the social norm, and having excessive knowledge and obsession with different things. That certainly described me growing up. In my youth, and into my young adult years, I had obsessions ranging from Robin Hood, the Peanuts gang (I was an absolute Peanuts freak), and maps as a little kid , to baseball and baseball caps as a young teenager, to college football, UCLA sports and athletic gear, and Las Vegas as an adult. This was not seen as normal to many people, and these obsessions, and AS trait, helped contribute to my ostracism and rejection.
Being an African-American youth with Asperger's, it was extremely tough trying to fit in and being accepted by my black peers, especially since I had lived in an almost all-white rural area until age nine, when I moved into a predominantly low-income minority area. From kindergarten through third grade, I had exactly one black classmate in those four years. From fourth grade on, it was a completely different story. It did not take long before I was essentially rejected by the other black kids at the schools I attended, especially the boys.
One may ask why the black kids, as a whole, rejected me so. Let me count the reasons
First, I was one of the best students in my grade and in my classes. School came easily to me in the elementary and junior high years, and I was fairly enthusiastic about it. I consistently got top grades and awards; I particularly remember winning an essay award from the Daughters of the American Revolution in fifth grade. Unfortunately, among most of the black youth there, school success was not seen as socially “cool”; it is often still not seen as such. Being smart was - and largely still is - seen as a “white” thing among most black kids in the inner city. That made me a target for ridicule and bullying.
Second, part of the black inner city youth culture dictated that your “coolness” factor depended on how well you brawled and threw fisticuffs; how tough you were, which is also still the case. As for me, I didn't like to fight, because I was scared of getting into trouble and wanted to be in the good graces of teachers and others. I often cried when I was hit or picked on, so when I was “tested” in that aspect, I failed miserably. I became a “mark”. In the eyes of the black kids at large, I was “scary”. I was also “goofy” - that was a common taunt. Not to mention, pardon the expression, a “faggot” in their eyes; I was called that as well.
