So THIS is their reason for cruelty?

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i talk formally anyway. when i lose it i break down and lose speech.

I work with a guy who is like this (who I believe is probably on the spectrum, though I doubt he realizes it). I know that he is not meaning to project an air of arrogance when he talks, yet that is how he comes off.

I try to cut him a lot of slack (as I have many of his tendencies as well), but I can tell you that he is extraordinarily frustrating to work with. His formal language is almost incomprehensible unless you really know what you are listening for.

This thread has been extremely helpful to me! I now understand why I do what I habitually do and why folks react to it the way that they habitually do. I have always felt that during an argument, people tend to be more incensed if I don't match their level of agitation. My mode of operation tends to be speaking very carefully and precisely, while they respond viscerally (unless I am so overwhelmed that I can't speak at all). It now seems that instead of a calming effect, my approach just adds another insult. Oh great...

I have to really concentrate to "dumb down" my speech patterns. Like many here it seems I spent my time reading more than most people and I like the structure in language.

They called me "the professor" at school which I kinda liked because it sounded like they were complimenting me until it was explained they were mocking me.

Not only do I speak "formally" to adversaries (i.e., "superiors" at various workplaces who've proven, time and again, to be my *inferiors*, in actuality), but my speech takes on a more refined, clipped tone. Since moving back to CT from Chicago (where South Siders really DID sound like the comedians in that old Saturday Night Live "Superfans" skit - daa Bearsssss!), I've noticed how slovenly many folks' speech patterns are here. "T" is often pronounced as "d," or dropped entirely - as in the case of the CT town of New Britain, which is locally pronounced "Noo Brih'In."

I refuse to sound low-class and uneducated, so I enunciate words correctly. My mom always did, as well, and people - including her own ignorant siblings, whom I abhor - hated her for it, accusing her of "putting on airs." Sorry, but I'm not an uncultured hick, and neither was Mom. I try to emulate Katharine Hepburn, who hailed from Connecticut and enunciated deliberately and delightfully. Now, if only I had a lovely, posh British accent...


As a sort of case in point, though not specifically related to pronunciation: a co-worker took me to task the other day over the spelling of a gym member's name. I'd pointed out that it was spelled incorrectly on a form (the gym member herself wasn't the person who'd filled it out).
"How do you know?"
"Because it's generally not spelled that way. It needs an 'e' at the end."
Bemused and flabbergasted, my co-worker then argued with me over the spelling of my own name - "Well, Erika is supposed to be spelled E-R-I-*C*-A!"
"It's often spelled that way, yes, but not in Scandinavia, where my relatives hail from."
"ScandiWHAT? What the hell is 'Scandinavia?!'" I really thought he was kidding. I therefore explained to him where Scandinavia's located and the countries involved, which was greeted with a blank stare. Then, somehow, we got onto the subject of Holland; I pointed out that that country's NOT part of Scandinavia (...), and that the area is more properly called The Netherlands.
"You're just making s**t up, now!"


O, MFG. I only wish I were kidding. And this young man is a college graduate.

Do yourself a favor - *don't*.

hehe thanks. And that Scandinavia story is amazing.

There's a joke: Q: how do Americans learn geography?
A: by starting a war

That's what happens when you come from a part of the world that has stayed out of every global conflict. Utter cluelessness. But really. He ought to know better. I guess if he ever has an autistic child and somebody sends him the "You're In Holland" parable (I got it sent about 5 times after my daughter's diagnosis) he just won't get it.

It's strange but I've picked up a bit of this after years of living with my borderline-spectrum husband. The angrier he gets, the more formal his speech gets. Big words, lack of contractions, monotone. It's a very drastic change with him. Yet it usually works well for him, he has enough social skills to use it to his advantage to intimidate and/or confuse your average idiot, often to where he gets his way. He explained to me early on that he does it when upset or agitated and it's one of my major clues that he is upset, it's much easier for me to notice than facial expressions.

As we've gotten older he's learned to turn off this "monotone mode" as he named it, and save it for when he truly needs to get up in someone's face. Him consciously controlling it at home however, actually created arguments, since I'd got used to that major indicator, so it seemed to him like I'd become less sensitive to his feelings, when actually I'd been unable to read his body language all along.

As for me, I was raised by relatively uneducated people, even though I read a lot I tended to mimic what I heard, I never picked up formal speech. I shut down and often can barely speak at all when truly upset. But I think the formal speech has rubbed off on me a little bit, and sometimes, when I'm really lucky, I manage to use it to hide when I'm only slightly nervous or intimidated.

There are many situations where it's better to risk coming off as lofty or arrogant, than to have to back down because you can't speak properly. I'm actually a bit jealous of Aspies who have this trait naturally.

What's that?

The "You're In Holland" parable is something that appeared in a magazine at one time about raising a child with autism. Now it's circulating in various forms around the internet and when friends and relatives stumble across it, they forward it to whoever they know who is raising an autistic child.

The parable goes like this (condensed version):

A couple is arranging their vacation. They would like to go to Italy. They want to see all the beautiful museums, visit the Vatican, buy high fashion clothes in Milan and so on. They have everything planned for Italy. They have clothes appropriate for the weather there. They have guidebooks that describe everything about Italy. They have a vacation itinerary and reservations in a nice hotel in Rome. They get on the plane. But it doesn't take them to Italy. Instead it takes them to Holland. They know nothing about Holland because it isn't anybody's vacation destination. None of the guidebooks or clothes they have packed are appropriate. They have no hotel reservations and no idea what they are supposed to do. But here they are and they must accept that they are in Holland, not Italy. Which, after considerable anger about their lost hotel reservations and changed plans, they do. Parents assume they will be "going to Italy" (raising an NT child, which is what they prepare for). Some wind up "going to Holland" (raising a child they were utterly unprepared for and have no clue what to do with but they must muddle through and figure it out, and it's just a different place, not a bad place).

As this parable has circulated around the internet it has picked up some snarky and angry parental comebacks. Some parents say "I would LOVE to be in Holland. But this isn't Holland. This is Chechnya" and other things like that. It's a parable that has taken on a life of its own but unless you are a parent of an AS child you are unlikely to have come across it.

Wow, that's an interesting take on it...

I can say that, as a child harboring all sorts of fantasies about what I'd "be" when I grew up, I never anticipated ending up in "Holland" as an adult...living with my dad (because I can't afford rent anywhere), without savings, underemployed, alone, nearly friendless, with no prospects for either relationships or viable career paths. "Accept" isn't a word that normally holds any weight or finds a place in my personal vocabulary, but I guess it's about time that I came to terms with my life here in "Holland," and learned how to make the best of it...

My favorite snarky comeback to that is the one where you land in Baghdad and survive the initial battles only to realize that you're in the middle of a never ending war. When that came up on the Autism Speaks board, I realized why some people think it's perfectly fine to kill auties. We started a war in their lives, we ruined their fantasies about having a high IQ genius child who will go to Harvard and start a hedge fund and make them rich, we crushed all of their dreams about what their child would be, and we deserve to PAY, because we ruined everything.

The American middle class seems to have a never ending fantasy world ready made for their child to be slotted into upon birth, and if the child won't fit, force them or discard them. My mother grew up poor, and her only wish was that I not become a violent criminal. I succeeded. It seems that back in the mid 1970s when my mom was pregnant, it was less common for a pregnant woman to spend bed rest fantasizing about having this genius child who would make lots of money and buy her a mansion and a Bentley and generally make her rich, famous, and respected. Back then everybody was concerned about not having their kid turn out to be a stoner or cult follower.

Today people desperately want a perfect kid, and to have that kid bring them money and fame. Look at the Heenes, who hid their 6 year old in an attic and pretended that he was flying away on a balloon so they could land a TV show. People set such high expectations that having an aspie is a MAJOR letdown. Then the anger builds. "You'll be perfect if I have to kill you to get you there!" The future then becomes ABA, chelation, HBOT tubes, vitamin treatments, and on and on. They throw everything at it that they can, and when THAT doesn't work, they kill him. Their egos will NOT accept imperfection.