Tag Archives: hyperlexia

Reading

Most writers love to read. After all, reading was what prompted us to want to be writers – we had read something we enjoyed so much that we decided to try our hand at it. Reading can evoke deep emotion and provide a wonderful escape. One of my favorite quotes (by Virginia Woolf) concerns the love of reading:

“I have sometimes dreamt that when the day of judgment dawns . . . the Almighty will turn to Peter and will say . . . when He sees us coming with our books under our arms, ‘Look, these need no reward. We have nothing to give them. They have loved reading.'”

And so I was understandably ecstatic when my son, diagnosed with autism at age three, began reading six months later. I soon learned that it was called hyperlexia and that supposedly he did not comprehend what he read. But a lot of it he did comprehend. He started off by putting his wooden letter blocks together to form words (“w-o-l-f” when he wanted to watch Disney’s Peter and the Wolf) and “w-a-l-m-a-r-t” when a trip to Wal-Mart was mentioned). He would read the words printed on his PECS cue cards and respond accordingly. Then he progressed to reading words that his teachers, therapists, and I would write for him when PECS was not enough (“First finish work. Then play outside,” and “First dinner. Then more Lion King.”) Soon I noticed him reading Dr. Seuss and Disney books on the couch, and he was reading in his mind because I saw his eyes move across the pages. He was four. By the time he was six years old he was tested to be reading at fifth grade level, yet his speech was still largely echolalic.

I was just glad he was reading. Now, Nigel reads National Geographic issues cover to cover. (I walked into my office one night to find him with several issues spread out all over the floor and asked what he was doing. His response: “I’m just hanging out reading Nat Geos.” I love how he came up with the abbreviation himself.) He reads truckloads of books on science, history, wars, different cultures, natural disasters – many types of non-fiction. Alas, very little fiction, which is my favorite.

The only fiction Nigel will read is a book that’s been turned into a movie (like Jumanji or The Secret of NIMH). He did read The Cricket in Times Square (if there’s a movie of that, he hasn’t seen it), but it had animals in it, and he loves animals. He wishes they could talk. (And clean out their own litter boxes.)

I wrote this post because I had noticed several incoming searches for “reading and autistic teens.”  What do they like to read? The bottom line is that it depends on the teen’s cognitive level and their individual interests. Some still like to read the books they read as young children for the comfort and familiarity they offer. Many autistic teens like books about animals, fiction or non-fiction. Some, like Nigel, love history, geography, and movies. Some might be more inclined towards math and computers. Some might even like to read instruction manuals or the backs of cereal boxes. If they’re reading, it’s all good.

Assessing Development

Development sometimes seems so elusive and immeasurable. When you’re with your child every day, it is often difficult to see any development. For me, it becomes more apparent when Nigel returns after visiting his father for seven weeks every summer. It is then that I notice changes in development. Some are subtle, such as a slight increase in speech, and some are more obvious, such as being two inches taller. Every year Nigel progresses, whether it is obvious or not.

I keep a file (several, actually) of his school records, IEP reports, and my own writing describing his development over the years. I have been looking through the files this week and am enjoying reading about his development, marveling at how far he has come. This is an excerpt from ‘Nigel at Six:’

I had intended to start writing this sooner. Pictures are not enough to remember these early years. Videos help immensely, but they do not capture thoughts and dreams, concerns and hopes.

All people change and grow, but I think I will spend my entire life learning about Nigel. Who is this little boy? Part genius, part tough, all loving. He has been with Child Development Center for two years now, and I can communicate with him levels above how I did when he started. He is a wondrous person, a gentle soul. Trusting, yet fearful of new situations. I can’t explain to him why he needs to sit at the table in restaurants and stay near me in the grocery store. Of course, I must remind myself that it has gotten better. He understands more of what I tell him, but too often I don’t  think of what to tell him until it is too late. Last time we tried to eat in a restaurant, he went up to some other patrons at their table, got right in their faces and proclaimed, “Balto!” because he had watched that video earlier in the day.

He is starting to use pronouns now, usually at home where he is comfortable, although he confuses which one to use when, “I” for “you” and vice versa. We are still hearing nonsensical words, words he uses when he’s trying to imitate a line from a video and he doesn’t know what was actually said. For example, in The Lion King when Simba tells Zazu “Hurry!” in an urgent voice, because he needed help. Nigel thought it was said in an angry voice, so whenever he’s angry, he yells, “Urr-reee!” and has for about two years now. Or he would say, also in anger, “It’s my gun, you’ve got no right to take it!” from the Swiss Family Robinson. Fortunately that was short-lived. Another good one was from the Scooby-Doo video. When Aidan split his chin open, we had to go to the doctor for stitches, and the regular doctor had just moved to a new location. So we got to the new office and were just about to walk in the front door when Nigel stopped and said, “I don’t like it,” as Shaggy had said when they were about to go into a haunted house. Nigel had used the phrase in perfect context as a way to indicate his fear about a new situation.

He’s even come up with some phrases on his own, emerging spontaneous, non-echolalic speech, which is wonderful. When I got back from a three-day trip to Paris, he emptied my backpack and filled it with his own shoes and clothes, put it on and walked around the room saying, “Nigel go to Paris. Nigel is tripping [meaning, going on a trip].” He has learned in school to comment whenever someone participates by saying, “Good catching,” “Good throwing,” “Good drawing,” “Good sitting down,” and when he can’t describe something specifically, he says, “Good job in doing,” which I love.

And the boy who taught himself to read at three and a half is sounding out words he doesn’t even know. Yes, it’s hyperlexia, but at least he shows cognitive strength in that. Unfortunately, he seems to have difficulty with holding pens – even fat ones – and trying to write. He is very resistant. He loves to watch other people write, but he freaks out if I try to put my hand over his to get him to do it. It’s a shame, because I think that once he learns to write, that will liberate him to no end.