An Adult with Autism Reflects on Her Love of Museums

 Allison Shefcyk is a research assistant at the University of Connecticut's AJ Pappanikou Center and a person with Autism. She holds a BA in history from Mount Holyoke College and has done archaeological fieldwork in Jamestown, Virginia.

            I cannot say for certain when my love affair of museums began. Was it the time that the animatronic dinosaurs came to the local children’s museum? Or was it the ancient Egyptian room in the back of the Yale Peabody, with a mummy sarcophagus on display? Either way, I was hooked from the beginning. Museums were a natural fit for a child with Autism who was socially awkward and usually started off conversations with openers such as ‘Who is your favorite Mayan king?’.

            I’ll be the first to admit that the museum is not the first thought that most parents of children with Autism probably have when it comes to finding outlets and resources. Most of what is out there is either associated with more traditional social contexts (schools, peer groups) or entertainment venues (movie theaters, live theater).  Yet, public education for individuals with Autism in terms of a museum context is rarely addressed at all.

            For me, it is truly a shame, as museums have been incredibly important resources for me as both a child and an adult. It was tough for me to form friendships growing up, because conversations were very tough for me to follow and initiate. To this day, I still marvel at children’s conversations amongst themselves and adults, because my experience of the world was so different from theirs. However, the museum served as a welcome refuge in which I could engage with other children in the history summer camp, or see a hieroglyph-covered object similar to ones I had seen in a book about Ancient Egypt.

            As I grew older, I began to notice discrepancies in the way my peers with disabilities and other children were viewed. I noticed that we were placed further and further away from mainstream classrooms and had fewer chances to interact with the rest of the class. Although I managed to get out of special education classrooms by the seventh grade, I still felt that I was not considered equal with my neurotypical peers.

            We still did museum trips, with those to the Metropolitan Museum of Art being my particular favorite. For just one day, it did not matter that I was not considered a full peer in my age group, or that not all of my teachers could see anything past the label of Autism. At the Met, everyone got the same lesson, enjoyed the same exhibits and did so together. I felt like I could be valued as a whole student and human being within the halls of the museum.

            To this day, I still value museums highly as a personal educational tool and recreational point. However, for me, they have taken on a new social role as well. After doing archaeological fieldwork in the southern United States, I now volunteer in the educational department of the Harvard Peabody Museum of Archaeology. 

            At our last family event, one of my activities was to teach a hopscotch game to visitors. At first, I was nervous. Sure, children are absolutely adorable, but what if I had problems interacting with them because I had difficulties grasping their point of view? I watched the museum educator model the activity for a while before I was given full rein of the game. Children of all ages, from toddlers to teens, streamed in constantly. As I explained the rules and invited them to play, I initially took the role of an observer. Then, I noticed as they were having fun, they began to get creative. They added new rules and challenged their friends to increasingly challenging hopscotch tournaments. I found myself encouraging the kids, cheering them on and engaging them.

            One little girl, perhaps 7 or 8, approached me after playing. She explained that recess was not fun for her, because a number of girls had secret games of hopscotch in which only their immediate friends knew the rules. Her father explained to me that these girls were popular girls that dominated the school social scene. Getting down to the girl’s level, I offered some advice: “You can take this game to school with you, and teach them something new.”

            The museum environment of the 21^st should not be taken as an exclusionary environment. Rather, I believe it has the full potential of being a fully inclusive educational environment in which anyone can participate. You don’t have to be of a specific background to enter a museum’s doors: the only requirement is a desire to learn from the scientific and cultural wonders that the world has to offer.

Autism Awareness Month: Time for Your Annual Museum Visit!?

Autism Awareness Day is April 2, and Autism Awareness Month is April. 

These events just so happen to coincide with a new announcement from the CDC that autism prevalence is not 1:110 or even 1:80, but actually closer to 1:50 -- or possibly higher.

That's a lot of potential museum visitors, especially if you count in siblings, parents, grandparents, and support staff (aides, for example).

And if the museum experience is a hit the first time, you can bet you'll get return business.

But are "awareness" events really the right way to attract and keep a new audience?  My guess is that the answer is NO.  Those once-a-year visits may be a nice way to create positive PR for a few days, but they create the suggestion that people with autism should visit JUST ONCE A YEAR.

If you, like the Lincoln Children's Museum or the Please Touch Museum in Philadelphia, are planning a once-a-year "welcome" to families with autistic members, what will you do if your visitors have a positive experience?  How will you continue to welcome those families the next day, when "autism awareness" is no longer the focus?

One-off events are a lovely gesture, and are genuinely appreciated by families with autistic members.  But they are just one step toward true inclusion.  Let's start generating ideas and programs that make autistic individuals welcome, not just on April 2, but year round.

4 Truths About Autism That May Help Open Museum Doors

What are people with autism really like?  All too often, the media portrays people with autism as emotionless beings with Spock-like logic and an utter lack of humor or imagination.  Fortunately for those of us who love people with autism, this is very, very rarely the case.  UNfortunately, however, our children are the victims of the images created for them by television, blogs, and other media sources.

Yes, people with autism have imaginations!

If you're worried that you'll be unable to engage or relate to kids, teens, or adults with autism in your museum setting, maybe a few truths will alleviate your concerns.

Truth #1.  People with autism do, in fact, have emotions.  Not only do they have emotions, but they may have very strong emotions.  People with autism feel love, anxiety, excitement, jealousy, and all the other range of emotions that other people feel.  So why the myth?  Often, people with autism either express their feelings differently or have a hard time naming their emotions.  So, for example, they might say "I feel sad" when they are actually anxious, or appear to be angry when they are actually excited (and loud). These are the kids who actually respond emotionally to fine art, live animals, and scientific discoveries.  Should these people spend time in museums?  Of course!

Truth #2: People with autism do, in fact, have imaginations.  In a very odd display of cognitive dissonance, the media portrays people with autism, on the one hand, as having no imaginations and then names people like Albert Einstein and Bill Gates as very likely being autistic.  Obviously, you can't have both.  And the reality is that most people with autism have imaginations -- and some have extraordinary imaginations, capable of seeing the world in brand new ways.  Should these people be exposed to museums?  You bet!

Truth #3: People with autism do, in fact, engage with and care about other human beings.  Most people with autism find it difficult to communicate using typical prosody (melodic speech), and they may have social communication differences that make them appear antisocial.  For example, they may not look you directly in the eye; they may want to talk only about their personal areas of interest; or they may even turn away during a conversation.  In a typically developing person, those actions are "signals," suggesting a lack of interest and caring.  In a person with autism, however, they are simply mannerisms -- and may have little or nothing to do with the person's real interest in or engagement with the person with whom they are interacting.  Should these people spend time in your galleries or programs?  Absolutely!

Truth #4: People with autism do, in fact, understand and build on what they learn.  The media seems to split people with autism into two categories: the brilliant, misunderstood genius/savant, and the severely challenged person who cannot speak or bear to listen to ordinary ambient sounds.  In fact, though, most people with autism fall somewhere in the middle - just like everyone else.  Most people with autism are of at least average intelligence, and many are truly fascinated by museum content.  Some go on to build careers based on their museum experiences with archaeology, paleontology, engineering, history, or art.  Should such folks be fully included in museums?  Without a doubt.

Knowing what you now know about autism, perhaps you'll be more comfortable with the idea of providing simple supports to access.  You might even decide to say "yes" to a participant who openly acknowledges his autism spectrum diagnosis.  In fact -- who knows? -- you may even discover that some of your best volunteers and employees have symptoms that are not unlike (or may even be) those associated with autism!

What's Your Museum Planning for Autism Awareness Day or Month?

April is Autism Awareness Month, and April 21 is "Autism Awareness Day."  Many museums are planning special inclusive or "autism only" events, programs, and presentations.  The Philadelphia Zoo's 14th annual Autism Awareness Event has already been announced, and you can see details online. 

Does your museum have plans for an April event?  Please share it, either by commenting here or by sending me a note at lisa@lisajorudy.com.  I plan to put together as complete a list of planned events as possible!