If You Want Your Autistic Child To Drive, Try This One Life Hack
It worked for me.
One of my favorite activities in life is driving. I love hitting the open road and feeling like an American pioneer discovering unconquered land. The thrill of hitting my cruising speed and coasting along cornfields, hills, valleys, mountains, lakes, and the plains excites me. I may have missed my calling in life as a truck driver.
But driving was never a given for me. As many autistic individuals know, driving can be an arduous activity because it involves executive functioning, blocking out certain sensory stimuli, dealing with a lot of surprises, reading the expressions of other driver’s faces (like a wave to “go ahead”), and the need to make split-second decisions that can have life-altering consequences.
(But there’s an important caveat that comes with listing these difficulties where I would be very irresponsible if I didn’t point this out: Australia is making autistic individuals retake their driving tests just because they are autistic. I call BS. This discriminatory policy should be immediately repealed in the land down under and not be allowed to spread anywhere. Just because some autistics may struggle with driving does not mean we should all be pigeonholed and given greater scrutiny, and it does not mean those who drive are better than those who do not. If someone has demonstrated their ability to drive, they should be on the road, period! Geez, I thought neurotypicals were not supposed to be the black-and-white thinkers.)
As mentioned earlier, before you got to my parenthetical paragraphical rant, I struggled with many driving-related challenges. I have tremendous difficulties with multitasking and paying attention to more than one thing in front of me at a time, which is a must in driving. If I run late somewhere, I scream and curse inside, with my blood pressure shooting higher and higher towards the Andromeda Galaxy, but I have to remain calm on the outside as a driver. If I am in a novel situation, such as driving in a new state with different road configurations and signs I am not used to, I have to figure it out quickly because Jesus ain’t taking no wheel: It’s just me. No one else will figure it out but me, the driver.
I had two things going for me around age fifteen: I HATED appearing “different” from my peers, and not driving surely would have exacerbated those feelings — so I was highly motivated. And secondly, I am convinced that had it not been for driving go-karts as a kid, I would have never gotten behind the wheel of a car. It just would not have happened.
Desensitization
The place was called Fideland, and our family would go there on summer vacations. It does not exist anymore, which is sad because I have many wonderful nostalgic memories from this fun park.
I was about ten or eleven the first time I went there. My dad said…”Let’s drive around the track.” Immediately, I was scared. Those things are LOUD! “Nah, it’s not like driving in a car. You won’t get hurt”, my dad reassured me. It was a little fib, perhaps, but it worked. I put the helmet on, and wow, the blast of that motor was something! But then, once I started driving around the track, I liked it. The noise immediately blended into the background. And I wanted to do it again. And again. And again. And again. And again.
After this, I started playing video games like Road Blasters and Hard Drivin’ to simulate the driving experience. As many of us who grew up in the Gen X era and were hooked on these games know, crashes happen way more often in the games than in real life.
So, my dad had unknowingly desensitized me to driving before my first driver’s education class. Because the go-kart seemed like “practice,” and it felt like I was actually driving a vehicle, which I was, it was much less intimidating to imagine getting myself behind the wheel of a two-thousand-pound vehicle. Mind you, at age fifteen, I was not necessarily that aware of the difference between a go-kart and a car. I just knew they were both motorized, and I had practice with one, not the other.
I am independent today because I had this early exposure. I could not wait to be a driver because, in my mind, I had “driven” other things before. I am convinced that I would have been sidelined without the early exposure. Without this early desensitization, my other struggles associated with driving and everything else in my life would have convinced me that I could not have done it. My stubbornness would have matched the resolve of those trying to get me to drive; I would not have even tried. End of story.
I do not pretend that this strategy would work for everyone. But it worked for me, and I believe it would work for some autistic people.
Desensitization is not always a wise strategy; this advice should not be generalized across the board. Applied Behavioral Analysis (ABA) often uses desensitization, and the vast majority of autistic people condemn the practice of ABA. Desensitization worked in my case because the activity was the reward itself — or the reward was the activity, whichever you prefer. It was intrinsically motivating.
To the awesome parents: I know you’re the unsung heroes here. Keep doing what you’re doing. Sometimes, it’s about finding that ‘go-kart moment’ — something small that sparks a significant change.
And to my fellow spectrum travelers: We’ve got this. And remember that it is okay if you’re not into driving. Not all of us can drive, and it is not a sign of weakness to admit that this may be an activity to stay away from. My first cousin on the spectrum does not drive but can still lead a mostly independent life.
So, let’s keep rolling at our own pace, in our own fashion. The world is a pretty cool place with us in it, don’t you think? 🚗💨🌟
