Asperger’s Autism and the World of Work — Dwell or Fail?
A story about a tiresome and even destructive quest on finding a job.
I wanted to write about this delicate matter for ages.
Fellow Writer Tori Morales inspired me with her article “Defining Autism — Why Do We Only Focus on the Negatives?” The headline asks the question.
“I feel like I’m not useful for anything.”
We tend to focus on the negative because we’re predominantly confronted with it. Remember your last job interview? Even non-Aspies feel uncomfortable when it comes to creating the perfect first impression, solving assessment tests, and enduring intense questioning. How’s the Aspie supposed to perform in such an environment? Some feel highly uncomfortable when working in groups, seemingly appear insecure, aren’t bold enough… The list is long. The result is: “I feel like I’m not useful for anything.”
Of course, there are greatly gifted and talented Aspies out there. They appear on TV, get interviewed about hardships they’ve encountered in their life and how they overcame them. There are movies about AS, most with a happy end. There are tons of books and biographies. I’m not trying to diminish the achievements of neuro-atypical people out there, because they also went down a rocky road and had to prove themselves. However, our society wants to hear about successful people, for many still don’t see that failing is a vital step to learning and improving. They prefer not to hear about the many anti-heroes who never had a chance to excel.
Moreover, who would willingly share their failures and setbacks in a book, or even on TV for everyone to see?
I do.
Dare to share — The following is my personal experience, with a career-related focus.
In school, I was a good student. Sadly, my interest and motivation to learn would quickly drift off, from algebra to “bird singing in tree with repeating pattern, soothes brain, will listen to bird now.” I graduated okay-ish, decided to spend a few weeks brushing up my English skills, and applied to an English university. Upon being admitted, I studied Psychology via distance education. Study fees seeing a steep rise put an end to my studies after two years, so I waved the BSc. goodbye and left with a CertHE in Social Sciences instead. Which German employers didn’t know anything about (same for this weird “Bachelor” thingy), and thus my studies were worthless here.
I applied anyway. I wished for having what everyone had. A task filling the day with purpose. Mondays giving the creeps, as they marked the beginning of a workweek. An income to achieve independence. Just leading a normal life, right? However, all I got was a well-sorted arrangement of rejection letters.
With enthusiasm, my advisor told me about a program just for cases like me.
Inevitably, I had to register with the Agency of Employment (AoE). I let my advisor know that I had special requirements and wasn’t likely to succeed, should they place me in the first vacancy that came along. With enthusiasm, my advisor told me about a program just for cases like me: People who couldn’t work full time or experienced difficulties in finding a job due to health reasons. People who needed more attention and an individual approach, evaluation of their skills and weaknesses to support them at their best. Depending on this evaluation’s result, I could begin vocational training. Oh my gosh, how exciting! I was thrilled.
I had to participate in several skill and knowledge assessments, psychological assessments and training programs at external facilities.
After returning the forms, months passed without reaction by AoE. I eventually received a letter confirming I was transferred to their rehabilitation section. The letter was dated a month before it got posted. This marked the beginning of delay, misinformation and even more delay. If I had known what was about to come my way, I would have backed off: The whole thing would take years. Alas, AoE’s goal wasn’t to find a suitable vocational training program and workplace, it wasn’t about supporting me to find a job so I could move away from living on benefits. It was to keep me out of unemployment statistics, and lastly, to find something they could justify their refusal being my fault.
First, I had to participate in an assessment to determine my education level, fields of interest, and other skills. The assessment was followed by a report and unfortunately missed information that was key to the supervisor’s decision. I was to repeat the assessment. And again. Because every report following an assessment was missing an ever so slightly, but vital detail my advisor required to decide if I was permitted for the job training program.
Tori Morales writes: “We are seen as disordered. We have Autism Spectrum Disorder.”
That’s right. One of AoE’s consultants attested me “a severe mental disorder” without ever meeting me in person. Judging only from what was on my record. This created an utterly wrong impression for everyone else I had to deal with and led to utterly wrong conclusions.
Although I was wasted and gutted, I stuck with it, for I had a goal.
After the skills tests, it was psychological assessments. Those reports now suggested I wasn’t mentally resilient enough to successfully complete the job training. I was devastated. Now what? My AoE advisor calmed me down: “You still have a chance. We just have to make sure you can cope with the workload, and then you’ll be fine.”
Yeah, right.
Next came training programs at external facilities — these being the most invasive and outrageous. Although I was wasted and gutted, I kept going. For I had a goal. I was determined to succeed and deserve vocational training.
But one day, I was fed up with coloring in sketches and inserting missing words in short stories. I announced my withdrawal and walked out on them. Angered by my apparent impudence, the supervisors put the following on my record:
- Lack of aptitude for their program since I didn’t make eye contact with the supervisors.
- Refusal to prepare meals and eat with the other participants (Author’s note: I let them know I wouldn’t participate in this group activity before the program started, they were okay with it).
- A note that I urgently ought to improve my unhealthy attitude towards meals (Author’s note: I love food! I just don’t want to sit among a group of youngsters enjoying their own cacophony while I am eating!).
- A recommendation to transfer me to a sheltered workshop for severely disabled persons.
Needless to say, from this day on, I withdrew from the Agency of Employment’s rehabilitation program. My overall condition had deteriorated massively anyway, it took me months to recover.
Tori Morales: “We may function differently, but we function.”
Even if I don’t really like the concept of “functioning”, the above statement is still a fact. If we want to be part of society and try hard to do so, we have to function at least in some ways as they do. If we don’t have to morph ourselves into something we just are not, if there is no attempt to make us fit into a scheme and expect us to get along fine, experiences like the one in this article could be avoided.
I’m just trying to say: Dear society, something is wrong with the way you handle us. Please hear us out so we can make it better. Together.
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Note: Some elements in this article refer to programs, institutions, and the situation specifically in Germany.
