Musings

Autistic Teacher. Out or Not?

Today I had a nice short conversation with my Assistant Principal. Today was our Parent Teacher Conferences, and she was curious how they were going. At one point she asked me if I had told my parents about me being autistic.

At first I didn’t realize she meant my student’s parents. My response was a simple, yes, of course my parents know. They had me diagnosed when I was a child. It was just after I answered that I saw the look in her face. No, sorry. I have been open about it with the students, but not advertised to the parents.

I mean I wear a pin on my lanyard that says “I am Autistic.” They may have seen it, but I have not said anything to them. She asked me why. She has apparently been one of my supporters, without me knowing.

For context, I came out to the entire school staff about a week ago. I have had a group of people that knew for a while that could help support me. But I was asked to make a speech promoting Pink Shirt Day. During my speech I talked about how important the event was to me (even if it 2 months late). I talked about being bullied as a child for being autistic, and how that bullying still affects me today.

I think some of my coworkers clued in as to why I don’t join the many morale building activities at the local bars or the major school dress event for teachers each year. It’s too loud and too overwhelming.

My AP told me it is important to hear my story. It echoed a message I got on one of my posts a few months ago. But I have to be honest, it’s not the easiest thing to bring up.

At my old school I was open about being autistic. This is why some of my current coworkers know. They worked with me then. I had brought both Pink shirt day, and Blue shirt day to that school. I am certain neither has survived without me there.

Blue shirt day is April 2nd. It is now called World Autism Day. I set it up to help introduce neurodivergence to the children. The school was fine about it. But a co-worker there took offense. He was certain that the students would start to diagnose each other and that it would cause segregation and bullying.

I can understand his concerns. But if it is handled properly, with an external example, there should be no problem. I told him to use me as an example. He did not teach about autism, even if the school and I asked. I was the head of his department. The school was holding a charity event to raise money for an orphanage that cared for autistic children. He refused to acknowledge it.

After that he began to act aggressive to me. He knew about my autism, and it made him dislike me more. He used this knowledge to have me removed from my position as department head. And he used to spread rumors about me to the team I had. Some of them have joined me at my new school.

When I joined my current school, I opened up about my autism to my grade level lead. I was advised to not make it public. Parents might use it as a reason to request a different teacher for their child. So I didn’t. I was interviewed by the school magazine on my experience with neurodivergent students. However, I was still scared to talk about my own diagnosis.

After 3 years at this school, I began to open up about it again. But I still have doubts. Angry co-workers or parents may try to use the information about me. They could turn me into a scapegoat. It may already be happening with a parent. I don’t know.

I just want to be a positive role model for other autistic kids. Show them that we can overcome our sensitivities, and our hurdles. It is difficult, but not impossible. But some individuals will intentionally complicate things for us. They add to our regular struggles.

So the question opens up, for my next school I go to. Do I remain open about my Autism, or try to hide it again?

I want to write…

I find writing very therapedic. I love writing, as most Autists do. But often times I just can’t do it. I will sit down with a great idea in front of my computer, and then something will interrupt me. Once I am interrupted, my brain doesn’t reset to work mode.

Tonight I opened my novel, Gateways, I was about to start writing ideas for chapter 5. As soon as the file loaded, my wife sat down beside me. She wanted to talk about our current Job hunt. I understand that, and I love my wife. So we talked about the future for a few minutes. maybe 5. and she left me to continue my writing.

It was gone. all my thoughts on the chapter had now been released to the wild. I sat there trying to focus, and I found I was no longer even in the mood to work on that book. So I opened up my New Valarians book. I started to make notes on Chapter 7 of that book, and it was not time to tuck my daughter in.

I love reading to my daughter, and tucking her in. It is one of my daily highlights. But when I sat back down, and stared at the book pages… nothing. Those thoughts had flown the coop. And I no longer felt the urge to work on that book.

So I sat staring at my screen, and drank my tea. and I thought I would share my notes on Autism and Writing.

Written Communication Over Verbal Communication.

Many Autists prefer to communicate through writing. There are a few reasons for this, but it starts with our difficulty with verbal communication.

When we speak to a person, there is an unwritten rule about the proper pace. How much time needs to be between each speaker. Too long, and the one speaker gets bored or thinks you are not listening. Too short, and you are too eager, or you are not listening, because you border on interrupting. Both are often labeled as rude. Also if an autist, like myself is talking and we get interrupted, we loose our thought process. We stumble, as we had our words laid out in our mind before speaking. When we write, we can take our time to plan out what we want to say. We can take our time, and not be interrupted.

Clarity is also an issue. When we want to communicate something, there is often a lot of details we want made clear. We want there to be no chance of misunderstanding, and so a lot of written messages are long. We cannot get that clarity when we speak. Allistic (neurotypical people) often ask questions to clarify. Once we have been asked a question, often times we have to spend time searching up the information in our brain to find the answer. Because of course the questions asked are not the questions we thought would be asked. Also the pause to find the best possible answer can be often seen as not knowing the answer. Thus it seems like we are deferring to the wisdom of the allistic person. Even if our information is more up to date, or correct.

I love writing. But I do not enjoy texting. I used to enjoy texting, back when it was simple. But nowadays, no. I will often times use voice to text, and then spend 15 minutes editing the text. You see when you communicate by text, there are now rules to texting.

You cannot make a large text, it is rude. You have to use simple words, because if you use real words it may offend the other person and be seen as patronizing them. CAPS CHANGE THE MESSAGE. So if you accidentally lock the caps on, you have to go back and rewrite it. Emojis are used to show feeling, and many other things. I liked it when there was just 5 emojis; ๐Ÿ™‚ ๐Ÿ˜€ ๐Ÿ˜› ๐Ÿ˜ฆ @-}–

When I send text to people now I have to spend 5 minutes just scrolling through the emoji list. I’m asking myself which one is the correct one to use… I don’t know. If I put a flower, does it mean, I want you to have a happy day, or does it mean romantic feelings? Why do we even have an eggplant? and Flags? birthday cake? streamers? dogs? cats? soccer balls? Why can’t we just use words for these things?

When I am writing my novels, or my blogs, I do not need to use emojis. I can relish in the joy of real words. It is a blessing. It helps me de-clog my mind. However, sometimes, as is often the case in here, I feel it is unstructured.

It takes a lot of energy to structure my thoughts into comprehensible writings. Then to go back and add details can bean added hurdle. That’s kind of why lately I feel more like I am just rambling on my blog, but it brings peace to my mind and helps me sleep.

So that is where I am off to now.

Maybe this weekend I can get some writing on my books done.

Memoires – My First Time in Japan

Every Monday I go to a Men’s group. This group meets for coffee, and we discuss life through the context of the Bible. I have shared a lot of stories about my life with these guys. One of them the other day recommended I start putting some of the stories of my life and adventures down.

Now, I have put several childhood experiences relating to Autism down here. I, however, realized I have not spent much time on my wanderings. So Here I go.

My first Trip to Japan.

I used to live in Korea. Several places in South Korea. In 2001, I was living in Pusan, the second biggest city. While there, I discovered there was a ferry from Pusan Harbor to Hakata, Japan. There were 2 options actually, the Hydrofoil took 3 hours, and the Cargo ship was an overnight experience. They were the same price. I decided I would go, by using the Hydrofoil.

I went on the internet and reserved a hotel. The Green Hotel, if I remember correctly. and I pulled money from the ATM near the harbor. I got on the hydrofoil just after lunch, and the speed of the boat was great. I have always loved the feel of the ocean. About an hour in, I realized I didn’t exchange any money from Won to Yen. I went to the store on the boat to ask if they did money exchanges.

The store told me no. They however did give me some advice. There is an ATM in the Harbor. And if that didn’t work, there was an international Hotel that did international exchanges. So I was happy, and went back to enjoy my trip and watch the ocean bounce by under us.

When we arrived at the Harbor I walked around. The thing I always enjoyed about going to new places is walking around. I put my headphones on and went looking for the ATM. Found it. “Great” I thought and put my card in, or tried to.

It was at this moment I made a discovery. The domestic Bank Cards from Korea had their embossed numbering offset from the rest of the world. The card would not physically go into the machine. I tried many different times. (This would come back to haunt me in later trips as well).

So I only have the money I pulled from my bank back in Pusan. I decide, ok, I need to find that international Hotel. I headed back to the harbor and grabbed one of the area street maps from the information desk. Then I started walking. The map was bilingual, so I could read it. But my direction sense is not great in new places.

I walked through some beautiful shopping plazas, and along a river, and I really enjoyed the walk. However, I got lost. Some older women saw me looking at the map and came up to help. They spoke no English. The map was bilingual, so I pointed where I wanted to go and they helped me get there.

I finally got to the international hotel, and walked in. I went straight to the information desk inside. They happily informed me that they did convert money from the major international currencies. The Euro and the US Dollar were used as examples. They did not accept Korean Won.

So I was in Japan for the first time, and I had no money. There was no hydrofoil leaving until the next day. However, my ticket was for Sunday, the day after. I couldn’t check into my hotel or even buy myself a snack. I instead decide to just walk around and sight see. So I put my headphones back on and did exactly that.

When it was near dusk, I found myself at Hakata Train station, and I sat down. An older gentleman came up to me and asked if I was ok in English. I told him what was happening and that I was just going to rest there on a bench for the night. He sat down. He was a retired English teacher who had come here to get something. He told me that someone had stolen his car (Turned out to be his bicycle). So he was stuck too. He was too far from home to walk, and wouldn’t be able to get a cab home at this hour. We sat and talked for a bit.

When the sun went down, we were joined by a young lady. She had to wait for the morning train home. She had just returned to Japan from abroad and didn’t have hotel money. So the three of us sat and talked for a bit.

I know so far 3 random people meeting that can speak together in Japan is odd, but it gets odder. About 30 minutes after sunset, a group of homeless men appeared. Or maybe they were just drunks. They came out from somewhere and approached us. My 2 new Japanese friends translated our situation. The men pooled their money together and went to a 7-Eleven nearby. When they returned they had Sake for all of us, and some finger foods. We sat up until close to Mid-night with these guys, drinking and eating and sharing stories. This was the first and last time I had sake. I am not a drinker. However, I felt it would be rude to turn it away. They were buying me food and drink to share with everyone. They were honestly just trying to be kind.

The girl and I fell asleep against a large rock. Nobody bothered us.

When I woke up, she headed into the station for her morning train home. The teacher and the drunk men were gone. So I got up and headed back to the Harbor. There, I asked the ticketing agent if I would be able to exchange my ticket for an earlier boat back to Korea. They happily exchanged it for me.

When I returned to Korea, I went to a Lotteria (Korean Burger Joint) right away and ate. After that, I went home to sleep the rest of the day away.

This first trip, despite not being what I had planned made me fall in love with Japan. Everyone I met there was so kind. (Yes, even the money exchange, who could not sell me Yen was polite.)


I was just looking through my old photo albums, and unfortunately the photos are all corrupted. I will check my back up drive later and see if there are any on there.

Anyways, I will periodically tell you all about some of my other adventures traveling around Asia. I hope you enjoyed going down Memory Lane with me.