My So-Called Disorder: We Know We're Different Long Before We Know We're Autistic

It’s interesting to me how, before I ever knew I was autistic, I knew that something was going on that made me feel different. I told more than one person that, aside from family and a few close friends, I was “the most solitary person you’d ever willingly associate with—and that few willingly do.” I told several people that I had to learn to operate my hard to operate personality. I remember as a teenager and young adult watching all the socially successful teenagers and young adults, (including some really questionable ones), and realizing that that life was never going to be mine. I remember how much I appreciated the Togolese custom of avoiding eye contact during important conversations or when speaking to an important or elderly person. I remember watching various outgoing people meet me for the first time with gusto and then begin to pull back, spotting something odd despite my best attempts at gregarious charm. I remember a hundred times being told to smile, even when I was happy, and actually practicing a toothy smile in front of the mirror without success. I remember thinking there was a bit of magic in my ability make sense of complicated cases or to spot things in documents that others had trouble seeing. I remember when I learned it was more politic not to talk so much about Chuck Berry.

Peter O’Neil is the author of My So-Called Disorder: Autism, Exploding Trucks, and the Big Daddy of Rock and Roll.

Neurodiversity in the Legal Community: Why Autistic and Otherwise Neurodivergent People Bring Value

I thank the Washington State Association for Justice for publishing my article on the value of Neurodiversity in the legal community.  You can read it by clicking HERE. It's a followup to an article I wrote 20 years ago in which I compared my skill working product liability cases to the Seattle artist James Washington, Jr., who carved stone and who once said "If you love a thing, it will give up its secrets to you.

Washington worked mostly in stone, which he tapped and scraped until he found what he felt was always inside--usually something from nature that was also very spiritual.

I told my readers to return again and again to the documents and evidence of their cases until the case gave up its secrets. I told them to think like artists, intuitively. Now I realize I was teaching them to think like an autistic person.

 Peter O’Neil is the author of My So-Called Disorder: Autism, Exploding Trucks, and the Big Daddy of Rock and Roll.

  

My So-Called Disorder: Pipe Cleaner Man

   

Everything on the cover of my book, My So-Called Disorder, has significance to me and to my story. Take for instance, "pipe cleaner man." He shows up on the front cover, upper right.  He shows up in the book in Chapter 36, where I talk about creatively autistic solutions I've come up with on the job. We represented a man who was crushed under the roll bar of his tractor. An earlier model of the roll bar (like the one in my pictures) would have prevented his death. We were taking the deposition of a scene witness, and I was prepared.

At a deposition of the responding EMT, the company’s attorney asked the firefighter to illustrate how our client was pinned beneath the roll-bar. When the firefighter said he wasn’t a good artist, I pulled out the tractor model. No slouch, the company attorney pulled out a wooden artist’s mannequin with moveable limbs—but the EMT struggled to recreate the scene because the mannequin was way too big for the model tractor. That’s when I revealed “Pipe-Cleaner Man,” a tiny figure I had made from pipe-cleaners and dressed in colored masking tape. I even fattened him up to the size of our client’s deceased husband. The EMT bent him into exact position beneath the tractor roll-bar and we took a photo. Pipe-Cleaner Man still gets a chuckle out of the few of us who remember.

Pipe Cleaner Man, now 25 years older, is not as limber or as colorful as he once was, but he's still a thing of beauty to me. (And his early demise would have been prevented if he had the roll bar shown on the model, designed specifically to prevent crush injuries.)

My So-Called Disorder: Accommodations are not a Charitable Gift to Autistic People

Thank you to The Seattle Times for publishing my op-ed, called My So-Called Disorder Made Me A Better Attorney. You can read it HERE.

Peter O’Neil is the author of My So-Called Disorder: Autism, Exploding Trucks, and the Big Daddy of Rock and Roll.