Poor executive function is another problem that many autistic people have. I could never understand how my older brother could sit down and do his homework or another assignment for hours at a time - for me, it’s hard to find a balance between obsession and lack of interest. A case in point: maths was very difficult for me in high school, but last year I basically relearned everything I’d struggled with and got further than before within a couple of weeks. There’s nothing particularly difficult about it, or any concepts that I was stuck at for long. People’s advice about how I needed to “apply myself” or something similar just didn’t work. Watching other people studying was like concentration porn. How do they do that? My parents were actually quite involved and I was coached in physics by a friend. It always seemed like I almost understood every module, but couldn’t quite wrap my head around it. In the end I just passed, even though my parents were at the point of paying me to study - that just made it worse. No matter how hard I worked, I was still lazy and couldn’t reach that state of flow, even though I cared about it, wanted to do well and knew I had natural ability in the area. I could even help other people concentrate, but it just didn’t work for me. Socially it was the same - I didn’t have many friends, even though I wanted to connect with people. I hung out with the weirdest kids, who were also the most accepting. I was a bit of an outlier in the nerd group, partly because I didn’t have their drive. I was so frustrated that I was looking for ways to move out of the house. When I left the school, I didn’t bother giving my photo for the yearbook. Someone drew a caricature of me and submitted it, which was not flattering at all - but it did highlight what other people thought of me.
I managed to pass my A levels, but not well enough to go to a good university, so against my school’s advice I decided to join a ship and do voluntary work for a couple of years. To be honest, there was a real sense in which I was literally wanting to go to the other side of the world, away from everyone I knew. It was amazing - I don’t know whether actual group homes for autistic people would have helped any more. Most of the ship’s crew was second language English speaking, so everybody adopted a simplified and straightforward dialect. We came from over 35 countries and travelled to others, so people were clear about what they expected from each other. If someone was offended, they told you that you had shocked their culture and that this would be a better way to act. They didn’t expect you to just know this stuff. There were written rules about what you could and couldn’t do, including socially. Nobody could date for the first year on board, so you could ignore that whole dynamic when interacting with the opposite sex. If you did want to date, there were specific ways to show interest and you don’t directly confront the other person or rely on hints. Asia is often a nicer place to be autistic too - in some places eye contact is even considered rude. In any case, cultural norms for dealing with other crew members and locals were explained to us. How close should you stand to someone while speaking to them? How should you initiate conversation? How do you make small talk and ask someone questions about their life? What are people likely to find offensive? It didn’t matter if you were a bit awkward - so was everyone, and we were all learning from each other.
Possibly best of all, nobody got paid for their work, including the captain and the rest of the senior staff. We were all on a level to a certain degree and there was a limited amount that your boss could do to make you work. There would be a budget for a team outing once in a while, but otherwise your boss couldn’t really punish you for doing something wrong or reward you for doing it right. This is amazing for building intrinsic motivation. Sometimes I’d work extra to support my colleagues, or help to unload shipping containers of books or food on my day off. I was known for studying a lot, because I didn’t have to and I was doing it for my own benefit in the moment (not because my parents wanted me to do it or because of some reward in the future).
It’s an interesting contrast with the ABA reinforcement techniques. In the ABA video, the child does a task and receives a reward (a sweet, a hug, clearing the table and doing something different etc.). It’s the same as the way I’d been taught all my life, although with added punishments if I did things wrong. None of this helped at all, and if anything it made things worse. On the ship, I learned to find enjoyment in the activity itself. Interestingly enough, this has been backed up by research since I left the ship. Incentivising a child’s behaviour reduces intrinsic motivation, and reinforcing the benefits of the activity itself increases it and provides better results than traditional rewards.
Since then I’ve retaken high school and am 2/3 of the way through my masters, while holding a job and doing my share in the home (which can all be a problem, and would have been a problem without my experience on the ship). This is one place where there can be real differences between people with low and high executive function, and giving people the right skills to understand and use their brain has significant benefits for them and the people around them. I’m not less autistic, but I am able to do things that were impossible for me before. Some of it is just growing up, but there’s also a sense where I’ve learned to stop trying so hard and accept the fact that I’ve got the stamina of a 7 year old, and learn to work with that.