An Unusual Start to a New Year!

This New Year’s Eve was quite memorable for me.  In fact, it was the first year my plans were not completely lame or totally revolving around family.  I ended up hanging out with my best friend *Justin*!  Our lives have taken us on different directions, but we have sustained those bonds of friendship even after we stopped having too much in common.  Actually, I renounce that last sentence.  We have A LOT in common beneath the superficial differences.  We appreciate each other’s struggles and the symbiosis from those days of yore.

Justin set me up on my first blind date when I was far too shy to even talk to a woman.  He also asked a beautiful woman out to the junior prom on my behalf.  (She said yes and actually showed up during a time when a woman seemed more likely to jump out a two story window than stand there to accept my invitation.)  Justin was never meant to go to college, but had the intellectual prowess to see my abilities when so-called “intelligent” individuals failed to show the same mercy.  I would like to believe this courtesy was returned with favors, such as advocating to his girlfriend’s family after she unsymbolically dumped him (a well-meaning attempt that promptly resulted in an angry phone call from the young woman’s father and the threat of legal action.)  Without a doubt, I was excited when he called to announce an unexpected visit for New Year’s Eve and Day.

Our adventures took us to a restaurant called, “The PC Paddock.”  It is that rare place where everybody knows your name and I am exonerated from draconian consequences if I dare to say something really weird once in a blue moon.  I brought a blind date who also had Asperger’s in an attempt to finally heed my friend’s advice of pursuing other young women with the same condition.  But it did not take long to realize we were not the best match considering I don’t smoke pot on a regular basis.  (Please note this does not make me better than her.  Just different with dissimilar interests.)

We took the party over to a sklozy, (I mean…cozy) nook of a bar across from Vassar College.  The place was inundated with plenty of my high school peers who did not display malice, but at the same time never really accepted me during most of my childhood.  But I was accepted that night as all of us belted out Karaoke tunes regardless of any innate singing talent.  The night for me was particularly poignant because I do not believe in letting go…ever!  The act of letting go is perhaps the Practice of the Devil…

Over the years, I have learned to overcome the worst of my Asperger’s syndrome by putting issues on a backburner, compromising, and “backing off.”  But letting go has always been an elusive thing and I do not believe in it.  It took at least a few years to get to the point of “putting things on a backburner” as far as high school is concerned.  There were other peers who were unable to let go of their high school nostalgia shortly after graduating and even visited their old teachers from time to time.  But I attempted to prolong the dance far longer than anyone else.  College did not immediately embrace me with acceptance so it made sense to go backwards.  Sometimes it IS necessary to take a micro-step backwards before we can even think about taking a much larger step forwards.  I felt like acceptance has finally been granted amongst the majority of my high school peers and closure has finally arrived.

Our night ended in the most ordinary and banal of ways.  We sat in my house the last half-hour of 2011 consuming beers and watching Dick Clark host his 40th show.  In our relentlessly-changing, youth-obsessed culture…it is refreshing whenever there are some celebrities who may not have Asperger’s, but display the AS trait of refusing to stop even when some composite doofuses in the public are encouraging them to sit down.  And finally, let 2012 show more mercy for the Asperger’s population and all those affected by abuse!

The Mythology of Bullying

(Article for Adam Feinstein’s  Awares International Online Autism Conference)

I have always been a huge fan of mythology!  I believed in fantastical beings like Santa Claus long after my neurotypical peers naturally moved on to priorities like “girls, sports, and MTV.”  Growing up was a sloth-like process and I continued the nonsensical dance far longer than was appropriate.  But it feels good to celebrate nonsense and we are all guilty of this guilty pleasure to some extent.  How many of us passionately hold onto the urban legend that a Munchkin hanged himself during the Great Depression-era filming of “The Wizard of Oz?” because there is a faint image of something swinging behind the scenery.  But there is a form of mythology that is absolutely deadly and hopefully we will let go of its remnants soon enough.  This is the mythology of…bullying.

These myths were strengthened because I was part of the last generation when Asperger’s syndrome was unrecognized by mainstream society as a legitimate disability and was treated as a genuine character flaw.  Being extremely weird and occasionally acting like a jerk was not seen as a condition deserving of mercy. The brutality of being tormented and/or taken advantage of was viewed as a self-inflicted consequence created by the victim himself.  My mother eventually had to take me out of a fifth grade class because I had a teacher who told her, “It has been my experience that if a child is being bullied in my class, it is usually something he is doing to create it himself.”  This anecdote pales in comparison to others.  Alex Plank, the founder of a popular web page called:  www.wrongplanet.net had his grade school principal take him into a room during recess where he was staring into the faces of classmates.  Each classmate had to say at least one thing that annoyed them about Alex.  These well-meaning, medieval tactics did nothing beyond creating a cache of haunting memories and scars.  Furthermore, bullying was viewed as character-building when common sense should tell us that nothing about constant abuse builds anything beyond a lasting trauma.  And there was nothing character-building about what happened to me at age seventeen.

As a senior in high school, I was a victim of what we now call cyber bullying.  It was flattering when a female classmate contacted me even though I had never met her before.  We continued communicating throughout the summer and I even met her at a local diner.  I persisted even after she severed contact with me for absolutely no reason.  My energy toward “Liz West” peaked when she claimed a man had raped her over the summer and resulted in an aborted pregnancy.  It took six months to finally learn that “Liz West” was a figment of someone’s imagination.  A group of students had created an online hoax and even went to the extremes of finding a young woman from a neighboring school district to meet me at the diner.  There was a human face to associate with the online persona and I had absolutely no idea that I was being bullied for those six months.  I thought they were my good friends.  Scars do not heal and this incident happened to me twelve years ago.  We are only now starting to grasp the magnitude of this deadly crisis.

The great American poet, Maya Angelou once said, “When you know better…you do better.” This should hopefully tell us something….

The Halloween that Almost Wasn’t…but Just Barely Was!

It was a Halloween none of the little kiddies will ever forget and has earned its place in a lifetime of permanent memories unless the ravages of Alzheimer’s Disease someday take it’s toll.  A snow day on what should have always been deemed as a national holiday?  A nostalgic, winter wonderland landscape?  Even with the childlike qualities of my Asperger’s syndrome, the magic was a little less potent for me as an adult.  But Halloween is still MY Christmas.  My self-proclaimed, Asperger’s Independence Day.  It is the only day someone like me may go out in public looking extremely weird, but pale in comparison to the rest of the world.  For just one magical day.

I refer to this freakish, autumn snowstorm as “Snow Leaf:  The Sequel.”  Of course, I am referring to the last time something of this magnitude happened when I was only five years old.  My memories of that event exist in the form of a few lit candles to counter the power loss and the rest is obscured by a childlike haze.  This event occurred later in the season and is much more memorable.

I looked out my front door on the morning of Sunday, October 30th and stared directly into the landscape of Tim Burton’s  “The Nightmare Before Christmas.”  The dark side of this blizzard could create an even darker reality for us all!  If there is a chance of such a wintry scene before Halloween…perhaps the retailers will feel more justified in breaking out the Holiday merchandise by the beginning of September.  God help us all or unite with me to create a petition making it illegal to advertise the Holiday paraphrenalia before November 1st!

The freak storm came at a very inconvenient time in my life!  (As if there is such a thing as a convenient time for a blizzard unless you are a gimlet-eyed schoolboy gazing at the saturated night sky on Sunday night with an uncompleted book report languishing on his desk.)  I was supposed to attend a Benefit for the Maplebrook School in Amenia, NY where they were featuring my book as one of the Silent Auction prizes.  For some reason, they had the Benefit anyway as at least one foot of snow fell on humanity.  It also threatened to interfere with the mother of all Holidays.

The older I become and the more I advance in my career…the more I am forced to let go.  I do not believe in letting go, but acknowledge sometimes there is absolutely no choice.  The other choice is a path toward doom.  I acknowledged that in order to complete my book in 2010, I would have to give up my marathon cards that start in early December.  The two weeks devoted to this obsession were put to much better use on two book chapters.  Life and consequences do not always work with my most potent obsessions.

The one obsession I cannot and will never let go of, however, is Halloween.  No matter how relentless it becomes to keep up with life, I shall constantly make time for carving Jack O’Lanterns and even visiting a few “understanding” houses for Trick-or-Treating.  This year was an extremely close call, however.  The time spent shoveling snow and powering up generators created a profound exhaustion.  I also had business with Anderson Center for Autism that could not have waited until after Halloween.  But in the end, I held on just as I hope to do for the rest of my life.

My mother berated me for wanting to carve four Jack O’Lanterns and this was the first time in my life I agreed it would be too much to stay up all night to accomplish this task.  In the end, I compromised on carving just two, but only had time for ONE.  But it was one amazing scene of a witch meant to look like Marilyn Monroe in that “Seven Year Itch” scene on the subway.  It was a Jack O’Lantern that was praised by the neighborhood and Halloween has been saved.  We should avoid letting go when possible, but I will always teach my peers to find the compromise….

Just when I thought the night could not have been any better with more last-minute closure, I managed to squeeze in my only major scare that day in a world where kids are desensitized to the most grotesque Halloween costumes.  I walked in the dark to the house of a high school acquaintance/friend in a remote area where they had never entertained any Trick O’Treater….EVER.  Panic set in amongst the family when I knocked on the door to say hello.  “This has never happened before and we have no candy!!  What are we going to do…?!”

Free-Falling to End Bullying and Create Compassion

On Tuesday, August 9, 2011 I had the honor of crossing something off my “Bucket List” a lot earlier than expected.  It was my decision to deliberately jump out of a “mechanically-sound” plane at the rate of 100 miles an hour at a height of 13,000 feet.  Thanks to the expertise of the staff at Skydive the Ranch in Gardiner, NY…I gently glided into the arms of the community waiting for me down below.

It is easy to brag about one’s intentions to go skydiving.  All it takes is a phone call to a skydiving facility and constant Facebook postings reminding people of the looming day.  But the trick is to not flake out or make it almost impossible to cancel one’s jump without facing consequences.  I chose to publicize my jump to the community as well as the media and accept a $2,500 grant from Anderson Center for Autism to sponsor my event.  But there was something else driving me to keep the date aside from fear of being digitally “tarred and feathered” as a coward on Facebook.

Like so many schoolchildren of various abilities, I experienced too many nights of staring at the bedroom ceiling wondering if the day coming up would be worse than the day that just past.  Most of the eccentricities “provoking” the abuse revolved around a case of Asperger’s syndrome, which is the mildest and most misunderstood form of Asperger’s syndrome.  During my many speeches to middle school students, I remind my audience that I have not changed too much.  I am still as “weird” as the day is long.  Also, most of my life has revolved around failures.  My life has dramatically changed and people are much more likely to request an autograph these days than accuse me of being a psychopath.  But it took nearly three decades as well as a published book with Penguin Group (USA) to see things dramatically change.  I will work tirelessly to ensure that someone will not have to go through these extremes in order to experience better days.

My jump was widely publicized as an anti-bullying event revolving around my campaign, “Someday Has to Be Today.”  I wanted to do something that rages against the well-meaning, public service announcement encouraging young people to just hang in there and that things will get better.  Our intentions should be to create mercy in the present because only two more years of abuse seems like a lifetime for the average child.

You are probably asking yourself the question that everybody wants to know.  What does skydiving have to do with bullying?  The answer is simple:  Absolutely nothing.  And this, my friends, is the whole point!  The chances of getting killed in a skydiving accident are 1 out of 150,000 and only 24 people have been killed this year worldwide.  The statistics revolving around bullying are grimmer with many more than 24 individuals giving up hope in the worst way possible.  With these realities in mind…it was relatively easy to jump off the face of the earth as opposed to going back to those precarious middle school years.

As human beings, our natural instincts of self-preservation prevent us from stepping out of a plane with nothing between us and the ground over thirteen thousand feet below –  except a parachute that will hopefully deploy as soon as you pull the ripcord.  Various scenarios enter one’s mind that probably won’t happen, but could.  The tandem instructor could accidentally hit the back of his head on the edge of the plane and fall to the ground unconscious with me chained to his back.  I frantically fumble to find the ripcord, as the ground that once seemed so far away is growing more visible by the second.  There is also the fear of hitting a bird with such deadly force that its beak burrows into my brain.  But I just repeat the rare statistics and know there is absolutely no turning back.  The large door to the plane opens and the panic begins.  A flying plane is not supposed to have any open orifices!!  The man in front of you yells out a sickly-dry, “See ya!” and jumps out of the plane.  Skydiving takes what is natural and turns it upside down, which is the ultimate catalyst for fear.

It is difficult to describe the sensation of skydiving mainly because it is indescribable.  But it is the closest one will ever come to shaking hands with the heavens.  It feels like you are flying as opposed to plummeting at over 100 miles per hour with enough composure to make amusing (but appropriate) hand gestures in front of the camera.  I also mouthed, “I love this!” to the camera man who was also falling with me and the tandem instructor.  The chute opened as I shot upwards like a torpedo from the shock of deployment.  Seconds later, I was floating toward the ground for a soft landing while helping the instructor steer the parachute.  Or maybe he was steering it.  I don’t remember all the details except a feeling of comfort and knowing everything would be all right.

I appreciated all the families and bullying victims who came out to give a voice to their anguish.  It took an exorbitant amount of courage to tell your personal stories for the sake   Keep checking YouTube for my skydiving video in October by typing “Jesse Saperstein” on the search engine.  Always remember there is an enormous difference between having to fight a little harder for a chance compared to not having much of a fighting chance.  My jump and prior accomplishments occurred not from heroism, but when others took the time to understand there is more to me than meets the eye.  Always remember that when you take another look at misunderstood individuals…you may give them the power to fly.  Furthermore, I am not suggesting you also jump out of a plane unless you have your mother’s permission, which you probably won’t.  But try to find your own unique way to become heroic and give others the chance to do the same.

The Power of Two Voices United in the Battle for Understanding.

ATYPICAL: My chance meeting with a remarkable young man with Asperger’s

By Nancy Alspaugh-Jackson

This past summer, I accompanied my husband Read to his college reunion at the beautiful campus of Hobart and Williams Smith Colleges. While visiting the campus bookstore, I found a book written a autographed by a remarkable young man, Hobart graduate Jesse Saperstein, class of  2004. After reading the book in two sittings, I reached out to Jesse, who lives in Pleasant Valley, N.Y., via email and heard back from him right away. In addition to graduating cum laude from college, and writing a published book, this young man hiked the entire Appalachian Trail and raised 20,000 dollars for pediatric AIDS and Camp TLC where he has worked as a volunteer counselor. He told me of his next project, an anti-bullying campaign featuring a video in which he skydives as as demonstration of what is possible when individuals of various abilities are allowed to shine when society chooses to give them a chance.

I have asked Jesse to write a few paragraphs as our Let’s ACT Today! guest contributor.  And here it is below….

A Plea for Mercy, Understanding, and Acceptance from those Living with High-Functioning Autism

It is not everyday that I receive an e-mail from a beautiful and accomplished producer from Los Angeles who wishes to give me an opportunity to make a greater difference.  When we first began communicating via e-mail, Nancy told me there are no accidents in life and fate allowed our dissimilar universes to overlap.  I tend to agree and there is one similarity that binds us.  We are both affected by the autism spectrum.  I live with Asperger’s syndrome and Nancy experiences it through her amazing son, Wyatt.  Nancy; her husband Read, and their amazing child will ultimately become the veritable tripod propelling themselves through a nonsensical universe of obstacles. Their journey will be a roller coaster of euphoria; pain; hope; alleged false hope; and occasionally anger.  But that is all right because no parent or individual with autism should be forced to accept the unacceptable.  Embrace the fight with the Alspaugh-Jackson family and ask the rest of society to examine my plea for mercy.  I will attempt to inhabit the voices of so many of my peers who are not blessed with such a large venue to be heard.

Having Asperger’s syndrome is not an excuse to engage in behavior that is genuinely inappropriate and fighting for equality also means having to accept consequences for genuine wrongs.  We need you to tell us what we are doing wrong and give us the tools to correct it.  But punishment is grossly ineffective without the opportunity for redemption.  As a child, it was more common for me to be condemned for the bizarre or inappropriate behavior from four years ago as opposed to the leaps and bounds forged over the past few months.  More important than correcting inappropriate behavior is teaching my peers how to look into the mirror once in a while to give to themselves what will not always come from someone else.

Judging someone with Asperger’s syndrome on a first impression will always be a path toward doom.  Mercy shall never flourish unless we “impress” upon society there is more to those on the autism spectrum than meets the eye.  Those deficiencies that need to be corrected may germinate into successes when society chooses to take another look.  Weakness could turn into a strength under the right circumstances if an individual wants it badly enough.  I learned that I could not accept my tendency to blurt out inappropriate comments or grossly overstep boundaries.  It was impossible to “let go” of the brutal realities that were created and the threat of legal consequences for my future.  Therefore, I decided to work in a funeral home for a while where only four phrases would not offend people.  “Hello, goodbye, I am sorry for your loss, the bathroom is around the corner to the left.”  I trained myself to walk on eggshells laced with poison and became a valuable employee because I wanted it badly enough.  Never underestimate the power of “want” or the opportunity for someone with autism to justify a “chance.”

Many of us are incapable of letting go, which is one of the prominent characteristics of Asperger’s syndrome. I actually do not believe in ever letting go in the way you believe I should.  “Letting go” is found in those endeavors where you are unrestrained by the anguish forged by a lifetime of intolerance.  On August 9, 2011 I was able to let go while falling off the face of the earth at over one hundred miles per hour.  Literally.  I went skydiving in front of my entire community to try and end bullying.  My associates and I are in the process of turning the footage into a YouTube video that will be promoted to the nation by the end of September.  I will elaborate on this endeavor in a future blog entry.  In the meantime, we have a lot to look forward to in the near future.

People often marvel at the successes I have achieved since graduating college that would be considered outstanding even for someone without a social disability.  This happened not because of maturity, but due to one simple reality.  Society eventually showed me I had something to fight for and would reciprocate just a little bit when I made the effort.  But as I stated in my skydiving video…nobody should have to publish a book or jump out of a perfectly safe airplane to enjoy a fraction of the respect that is finally coming from mainstream society.  Fight with me to ensure this will not be the case for current and future generations of individuals who live with autism.  Let’s make the 2011-2012 school year one filled with mercy.  Wyatt and our peers may have to fight a little harder for a chance…but they will have more than a “fighting chance” to radiate their brilliance.