Keep your feet on the ground, and stop reaching for other people.

Thursday afternoon when I went to pick Joseph up from dance class, I noticed the teacher had left the door to the classroom open, so I peeked around the corner hoping I could watch without him seeing me. Unfortunately what I first saw was the class waiting with hula hoops for props, and him going up to various little girls and trapping them in his hula hoop! Thankfully, not with him in it too, but it was bad enough as is. The girls were understandably getting annoyed. One of the teachers stopped him, and then they lined up and did their entire recital piece to the music.

I half-expected him to stand and stare into space, or flap his hands, but I was amazed and then touched as I saw him do every move with a huge smile on his face. Even when he saw me, he smiled even bigger, looking into my eyes, and didn't miss a step. I was so affected by the sight of him performing that I got tears in my eyes. I couldn't believe how well he was doing! Pretty amazing for a person who didn't speak in sentences until age five.

Then, of course, I got busted crying by the receptionist, and then the teacher came over after the dance and said, "Are you crying because you hate me and my school? I just have to check." I assured her that, no, I was just overwhelmed at how far he has come, in life and in dance. I'm not saying that he's a dance prodigy, but he's only been taking dance since March.


Also, this is his first-ever activity that is geared towards NT children, as all of his after-school activities, sadly, have consisted of various therapies up until now. Even horse therapy, which was supposed to be fun too, had a purpose. (And he didn't like doing it, but that's a story for another day.) But dance is for his pure enjoyment. And he's thriving! He graduated from speech therapy in February, after having done it for over six years, and upon hearing the news, he said, "I want to learn tap dancing now."

I guess he chose that because I was a dancer my whole childhood and have told him about it, or maybe it was because he saw Sam on iCarly tap dance. Maybe it was because I showed him a clip of Jerry the cartoon mouse dancing with Gene Kelly. All I know is, I did not push him into this, so I feel good about the fact that it is his choice. Besides, you can't make this child do anything he doesn't want to.

Which brings me back to hula hooping the girls. I heaped on the praise for the dancing first, and he beamed. But then I had to say, when we got to the car, that I had seen him bothering them, and that grabbing someone with a hula hoop falls under the category of not keeping your hands to yourself. You have to specify these things, because he is so literal, if you tell him not to touch people he will say, "I didn't, the hula hoop did." And all he said was, "It was so funny!' I could not convince him that it was the wrong thing to do because, thanks to the autism, he has almost no empathy. His current doctor says it will come with maturity. Meanwhile, he makes enemies at school because he won't stop grabbing people, and can't understand that they have feelings too. It's bad enough that he already gets bullied because of his immaturity and stimming, but technically, he also is a bully himself.

Our first doctor explained that autism is the gap between his delays and the things he excels at. I don't know if he will ever be the best of the best at dance, but he is showing promise. Over the weekend I met an actual savant for the first time. She is in her fifties or sixties, and is the rehearsal accompanist for a musical theater production I auditioned for. (I find out tonight if I got a part.) Anyway, she just sat there, expressionless, except when she was robotically directing the high school boys who were setting up her piano on the stage. Then she was able to play perfectly whatever music was set in front of her with no questions, immediately for each singer. She even played some standards people asked for without providing music. My mom told me who she was and that she lives in a group home since her dad just died (small town). I wonder what would have become of this lady if they had had the same types of early intervention programs in the 40s and 50s that we have now. She might have been performing at Carnegie Hall on Saturday, instead of playing for community theater. I hope to see Joseph land somewhere in between someday.