The Body Language of Machines
by Chris Damon-Cronmiller
Not too long ago- it must have been just this last week- I was navigating through that nightmarish intersection between Beacon Street and Newton Center when a realization hit me. I realized something that would prove to be an invaluable insight in how I deal with the daily problems of this world.
I was diagnosed with high functioning autism when I was three years old, and I have been autistic for as long as I can remember. I no longer have many of the quirks that distinguished me in my elementary and middle school years. For instance, I am much more flexible now, less easily overwhelmed, completely tolerant to loud noises, able to walk on wood chips, etc. As a result I can almost pass off as a neurotypical to those who do not know me well. However, there is still one major quirk that I possess right now that really sets me apart from those neurotypicals. I cannot drive cars.
Well, I tried during high school, but the efforts of my family and I proved to be useless. I knew the rules of the road- after all, how could I not if I managed to do fine on a bicycle for what, 10 years? Something was wrong, though. Whenever I got behind the wheel, I was always on edge. I was in a contraption that completely closed me off from the rest of the world, and I could not help but feel trapped. I no longer had the ability to perceive where other objects, let alone other drivers were. On top of that, my countless years of observing other’s faces for cues did not help me either, for whenever I came across another driver, their face was almost completely blocked off by the same type of device that enclosed mine. Often, the devices that I was planted in were large and cumbersome, and I never knew which direction to move it, especially if I was driving backwards. I was completely lost. Countless sessions with an intense instructor did not help in the end. Normal sessions with the Brookline Driving School did not help in the end. I failed the road test twice in the end. Something in my reasoning was definitely missing, but I did not know what.
My parents and I were talking for a bit a few weeks ago, and then we came up with a possible solution. Since I do so well on a bicycle but so horribly with a car, perhaps what I needed was the missing link between the two. Shortly after our talk, I bought, with a lot of the money coming from my parents, a Vespa. For those of you who do not know what a Vespa is, it is a brand of medium to large sized scooters that can go pretty much anywhere except highways and limited access roads (though the larger varieties can do so to a limited extent)- and can travel at roughly the same speed as a car. Mine, for instance, has a top speed of 50mph and still has the smallest possible engine size. All of this talk brings me back to what I realized just this past week. I finally understood what was missing all of those times I was trying to drive a car. All of those times in a car I was trying, in vain, to continue reading the body language of the fellow drivers who shared the road with me. I understood that I had to instead focus on the body language of not the drivers concealed within planes of metal and glass, but of the machines themselves.
I now understand that machines have their own separate form of body language that is, in a sense, almost as complex as the one that people use. The slightest change in speed, the slightest change in position, can make all the difference in the world for another driver. Over the course of the past 3 weeks or so in which I have had my Vespa, I have been able to observe some of the signals that machines send through their “bodies.” I learned to plant myself past an intersection if I want to make a left turn, so other drivers are clear of my intentions. I learned the importance of driving cautiously but firmly at the same time should I find myself coming out of an intersection with numerous drivers wanting to go different places at once. I learned about the cars’ sign of annoyance or anger- the honk- and how it can actually come in handy when looking (or hearing) for cues from other drivers on what to do when situations get complicated. I learned about the significance of the flicking of the high beams, and how it is both an okay for others to proceed past them or as a means of signaling one’s presence. There are many more subtle signals that I am sure are out there, but I will have to find out for myself what exactly they are.
What I have learned while driving around on my Vespa is something I am sure will greatly benefit others with autism. I am well aware that driving is extraordinarily difficult for anyone with autism. In fact, a good number never get a license ever in their lives. On the other hand, a good number, like myself, are struggling and are looking for some magical secret to driving. I may not be able to drive yet, but due to my experience on the roads, I know I am one step closer to acquiring a driver’s license. I want to conclude by sending a message to anyone else who is reading this who is autistic, or know someone who is autistic and is struggling with the same problem that I ran into a couple of years ago. You have time, no matter the circumstances, and are in no rush to acquire a driver’s license. Until then, branch out, spend more time on a bicycle, or do what I did and get a motorized scooter. I strongly recommend the latter choice, since it will allow you to get used to car speeds while at the same time allowing you to perceive the road fully. Spend some time studying cars’ body languages, and you will quickly feel much more confident on the road. Until you get a driver’s license, settle for a motorcycle license- it will allow you to drive a scooter, and the process is very simple, for all you have to do is take the permit test, schedule a two day safety training course with a road test and you are in the clear. That is what I will do this summer (hopefully I will pass the road test), and, hey, there is nothing wrong with having a motorcycle license for a little while! So long as you are safe, that is.
July 15, 2010
Posted in: AS Community & Culture, AS Information & Support, Life, Testimonials
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Lost in the Groove Blog — Long Ass-Day - July 21, 2010
[...] activity is really erratic, but every once in a blue moon something interesting comes up. The Body Language of Machines is a really interesting analysis of something I, like most people, take for granted: the ability to [...]
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