I understand now that they were trying to teach me how to be tough and to defend myself, to "toughen up". My Asperger's, however, wouldn't let me see it that way. In my mind, they were doing nothing buy bullying and abusing me, which ultimately contributed to me feeling ostracized, rejected, and alienated from the black community at large. It helped gravitate me toward the white kids that much more. It is apparent that this episode scarred me and left a lasting impression of the negative kind, as I still remember it over thirty years later.
I need to emphasize that it was not all of my cousins and relatives that treated me like this - the youngest daughter of this particular uncle was like an older sister to me. Plus, in fairness, they had no idea about my AS. No one did in those days. Since they are family, I do have love and respect for them today in that context. However, although they likely did not realize it, and would probably deny it, I feel that they saw me as a bit a "goofy mark", like many other blacks I knew, and it helped create a stain in me that I am still struggling with.
I also need to make clear that not all of the African-American kids I knew and grew up with were abusive and bullying to me. There were a few black kids that were nice and friendly to me and treated me well, including a group of sisters around my age who lived upstairs from me during my grade school years.
Unfortunately, those seemed to be the exception. The vast majority of the African-American kids I knew as a child were abusive bullies who rejected and ostracized me because I was different from them and "acted white". Ironically, their actions drove me toward the white kids that much more.
My experiences as a child has made it clear that Asperger's Syndrome, to me, was a curse. In some ways it continues to be.
I have often thought that if I wasn't an "aspie", I would likely be married with a couple of kids (no more than two, though), probably around ten years old by now. I would be owning my own home in a nice roomy suburb somewhere outside of Los Angeles, or at least renting a nice three or four bedroom duplex. My career would be on solid, if not spectacularly fulfilling, ground, as I would be a teacher and a baseball or a softball coach at a middle school or a high school somewhere, making at least $50,000 a year.
In a nutshell, if it was not for the fact that I have Asperger's Syndrome and thus socially disabled, I would generally be enjoying the "American Dream", complete with a nice, large SUV or a van to drive around in, taking the wife and kids to vacations and places like Disneyland and UCLA football pre-game tailgates at the Rose Bowl in Pasadena.
There are some people, who while otherwise sympathetic to my struggles and frustrations of this disability, say that I need to rise above it.
They will say that I need to move on from all of the bullying and abuse heaped upon me all those years ago. They will say, "Tough times don't last, but tough people do", and that I "need to take responsibility for myself and for my actions", which does make a point, in the sense that I have made mistakes in my life that has cost me. I am not trying to deny that or paint myself as the perfect person or helpless victim.
If I were an NT - a neurotypical person who did not have AS or any other type of disabilities, rising above being mistreated and taking responsibility for myself, more than I already have, would be much easier to do.
I believe, however, that to ask an "aspie" to simply rise above his shortcomings and his scars from abuse and social alienation is akin to asking a paraplegic in a wheelchair to simply get up and walk. Even those people without Asperger's who have been bullied, ostracized, and rejected as youngsters, like I was, oftentimes never "get over" such humiliations. Some remain adversely affected and unhappy, if not outright bitter. The reason? It is simply too difficult to just "get over" such bad memories and to "move on"..
They can never forget, and often cannot forgive. To be perfectly honest, this describes me.
I do realize, however, that I have to count my blessings. I have a family that supports and accepts me, Asperger's and all, plus a few close friends. If not for them, I'd possibly be a homeless panhandler on the street, if not dead in a ditch somewhere.
Maybe someday, with their help and love, I can learn to forgive those who trespassed against me as a kid, if not forget. That would certainly be a step toward a complete healing. Perhaps one day me and other "aspies" will be understood and accepted for who they are, rather than be judged for what they are not. That is certainly something that keeps me going.
