“Though we used different signed languages, these Chinese Deaf people and I could make ourselves understood; and though we came from different countries, our mutual Deaf culture held us together. By the end of the evening we’d talked about Deaf life in China, and about Chinese politics.” I nodded. “You couldn’t do that in China,” he said. “No hearing person could. So who’s disabled then?”
Cece has actually spoken four times in her life, and every time the words were appropriate to the situation. When Cece was three, Betsy gave her a cookie; she pushed it back at her, saying, “You eat it, Mommy.” Jeff and Betsy exchanged glances and waited for their world to change. Cece said nothing more for a year. Then one day Betsy stood up to turn off the TV, and Cece said, “I want my TV.” At school, three years later, she turned on the lights and said, “Who left the lights on?” Then one day a puppeteer visited Cece’s class; when he asked, “Hey, kids! What color is the curtain?” Cece responded, “It’s purple.” The capacity to formulate and deliver these sentences suggests a tantalizing lucidity below the silence.
我突然想起小时候听到的一个笑话,说是一个小孩子一直不开口说话,家人都以为他哑巴,直到有一天吃饭的时候他说:菜太咸了。家人都惊了,问他之前怎么都不说话,他说之前没有什么好抱怨的。
我现在感觉这不是个笑话,这小孩是不是自闭症…
A study conducted at Yale found that in adults with autism or Asperger’s, the region of the brain activated during face processing corresponded to the region activated in nonautistic subjects during object processing. Autistic people with fixations, however, may recognize those in the area where most people register faces. So one autistic boy had the same region in his brain light up for his mother as for a teacup. But he was enthralled by Japanese Digimon characters, and when he saw those, the area where most of us process our intimate connections suddenly flashed on.
妈妈 = 茶杯,数码宝贝 = 亲密,这妈得多难过