Be Different: Adventures of a Free-Range Aspergian With Practical Advice for Aspergians, Misfits, Families & Teachers by John Elder Robison Read Free Book Online Page B
Authors: John Elder Robison
Tags: Self-Help
because I think it results in conversation that’s shallow and contrived as people trade fake compliments and false smiles. Some of my relatives act like that, and it aggravates me to no end because I can’t ever trust what they are saying. How can I tell if they really mean something, or if they just made it up for the sake of conversation?
Then there’s the matter of “polite” clothing.…
Nowadays, when I go somewhere, I try to find out how people will be dressed before I go there so that I can put on appropriate clothes
. In my antisocial days, dress didn’t matter, because I was an outcast everywhere. Now, when I join social groups, I realize it’s a lot easier to fit in if I’m dressed in a style that’s at least generally compatible with that of the other people. Also, I never go out in public in my underwear.
That simplified code of manners may not seem like much, but it transformed my social life. Today people invite me to events and parties and then invite me back again. Given my social standing in high school, that’s something to be proud of. And I accomplish it all with a minimum of posturing and false behavior, and just a little compromise of efficiency.
When I first began studying manners, as a teenager, I assumed they were nothing more than a code of behavior written by and for self-serving adults. From my perspective, therefore, they were pretty much useless. Now, years later, I understand that manners are a code of behavior that makes life smoother and better for all of us. There are times when I am inconvenienced, like when I hold a door for ten people, but at other times I am paid back when strangers do the same for me. I can’t always foresee how kindness and consideration will pay off, but they usually do. I believe that because of my manners, strangers observe me and make subconscious decisions to be nice, justas other strangers in earlier years had observed and rejected me as an ill-mannered child. When I act politely, I build a reserve of goodwill in others. That reserve allows those people to cut me some slack when I do something annoying.
And believe me, I’m no paragon of well-mannered manhood. To be honest, I’m often rude and sloppy. But I am a thousand percent better than I was before I set out to be polite, and the effect it’s had on my social life has been phenomenal.
A Reason to Care
B y the time I entered high school I was sold on the logical and sensible parts of manners and behavior, but I had some problems accepting why I should do some of the bigger behavioral things, like staying enrolled in school.
In tenth grade I knew kids like me were supposed to graduate from high school and go to college. I loved computers and electronics, so I naturally imagined myself becoming an engineer. Yet even with that dream secured, it was difficult for me to see a clear path from high school through college to professional engineerhood in my head. There were just too many problems. My home life was awful, with a drunken father and a mentally ill mother. And Ididn’t seem to be able to focus on what my teachers wanted. Class sucked, so I spent my days in the school Audio Visual Center instead. I even skipped classes to be there. When they threw me out, I hung out downtown. And why shouldn’t I? After all, the Hungry U and Augie’s Newsstand were far more interesting than the school library. I skipped whole days of school to do that.
When I skipped school, I got a chance to spend more time with the musicians I had started meeting through my budding skill with electronics. Some kids learned to play instruments; I taught myself to fix them. The more of a failure I became in school, the more rewarding that work became.
The problem was partly me and partly the school itself. When I did go to class, I never had it together. I hadn’t even begun my homework; and I didn’t pay attention on tests. No one from the school ever stepped up to get me back on track, so I continued on a
Then there’s the matter of “polite” clothing.…
Nowadays, when I go somewhere, I try to find out how people will be dressed before I go there so that I can put on appropriate clothes
. In my antisocial days, dress didn’t matter, because I was an outcast everywhere. Now, when I join social groups, I realize it’s a lot easier to fit in if I’m dressed in a style that’s at least generally compatible with that of the other people. Also, I never go out in public in my underwear.
That simplified code of manners may not seem like much, but it transformed my social life. Today people invite me to events and parties and then invite me back again. Given my social standing in high school, that’s something to be proud of. And I accomplish it all with a minimum of posturing and false behavior, and just a little compromise of efficiency.
When I first began studying manners, as a teenager, I assumed they were nothing more than a code of behavior written by and for self-serving adults. From my perspective, therefore, they were pretty much useless. Now, years later, I understand that manners are a code of behavior that makes life smoother and better for all of us. There are times when I am inconvenienced, like when I hold a door for ten people, but at other times I am paid back when strangers do the same for me. I can’t always foresee how kindness and consideration will pay off, but they usually do. I believe that because of my manners, strangers observe me and make subconscious decisions to be nice, justas other strangers in earlier years had observed and rejected me as an ill-mannered child. When I act politely, I build a reserve of goodwill in others. That reserve allows those people to cut me some slack when I do something annoying.
And believe me, I’m no paragon of well-mannered manhood. To be honest, I’m often rude and sloppy. But I am a thousand percent better than I was before I set out to be polite, and the effect it’s had on my social life has been phenomenal.
A Reason to Care
B y the time I entered high school I was sold on the logical and sensible parts of manners and behavior, but I had some problems accepting why I should do some of the bigger behavioral things, like staying enrolled in school.
In tenth grade I knew kids like me were supposed to graduate from high school and go to college. I loved computers and electronics, so I naturally imagined myself becoming an engineer. Yet even with that dream secured, it was difficult for me to see a clear path from high school through college to professional engineerhood in my head. There were just too many problems. My home life was awful, with a drunken father and a mentally ill mother. And Ididn’t seem to be able to focus on what my teachers wanted. Class sucked, so I spent my days in the school Audio Visual Center instead. I even skipped classes to be there. When they threw me out, I hung out downtown. And why shouldn’t I? After all, the Hungry U and Augie’s Newsstand were far more interesting than the school library. I skipped whole days of school to do that.
When I skipped school, I got a chance to spend more time with the musicians I had started meeting through my budding skill with electronics. Some kids learned to play instruments; I taught myself to fix them. The more of a failure I became in school, the more rewarding that work became.
The problem was partly me and partly the school itself. When I did go to class, I never had it together. I hadn’t even begun my homework; and I didn’t pay attention on tests. No one from the school ever stepped up to get me back on track, so I continued on a
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