Natural Language Acquisition on the Autism Spectrum Book

"Mrs. Carter, I know of a woman who is quite different in her approach to kids like your son. You may want to just visit her clinic and see how it feels as a next step in caring for Ben.” I walked into Marge’s clinic and the sun came out. The place was covered in color: layers and layers of lycra hang from the ceiling, swings and platforms, slides and huge pillows everywhere. Mirrors and TV monitors, rooms of toys and kids running all around with smiling adults who appear to be having such fun.

As a family, we had exhausted every mode of therapy for our boy with autism and in the process, had exhausted him, our resources, and ourselves. Ben was frustrated, angry and bottled up tight as a drum. I scheduled a visit with Marge for Ben. He walked into “Marge’s” and the magic began to bloom from his insides out.

I asked Marge early on, “Is there any way you can make him stop that blasted movie talk? He is making me nuts!” Marge grinned and, with a twinkle in her eye, said, “That boy is brilliant and he is talking to you!” From the depths of my heart, I had no idea what she was talking about—and did I just hear a professional say my son was brilliant? I have heard them say retarded, stunted, slow like molasses, autistic, speech delayed and disabled, but this woman is grinning at me, winking at Ben, and calling him brilliant.

A few sessions pass with Marge and Brilliant Ben. I truly had no clue what they were doing together, but I do know that Ben ran down the hall, up the steps and down another hall as fast as he could to get to “Marge’s,” and he did not want anyone to interrupt them when they were together.

In a few short sessions, a change comes over Benjamin the Brilliant: for the very first time in his young life, he made a human connection! Marge owned a knowledge of Ben that captivated him, propelled him to therapy, settled him, and inspired him. Marge was magical with Ben and he could not get enough of her. As the mama, I ask myself, “What on earth are they doing in there?” It was loud, it was messy, a lot of banging and singing and bouncing and most of all, it was a whole lot of fun for that kid. Marge was laughing and my Ben was shining and grinning and changing.

We found a very mysterious help in this woman when brilliant Ben met his friend and teacher, “Marge’s.” Our life as a family was about to improve drastically. If I had known that we would find Marge, I would not have cried so long and so hard and so often all those previous years! Brilliant Ben—she called my Ben ‘brilliant’—imagine: brilliant.

Read on. You will discover the mystery.

L.C., Parent