('The A Word' is a drama currently on the BBC based on a family whose son receives a diagnosis of autism.)
I like 'The A Word'. I wasn't sure I would. It's always a risk watching programmes about issues which are close to home.
I like the kid. My heart warms to him as he walks along that road with his chosen object of the day and his music. I've read criticism of the music thing, on the grounds that all fictional folk with autism have to have a 'thing', like rainman. But it makes sense to me that he would relate to language in that way. Harry's early use of language was all about learning and reciting songs and TV programmes.
I also love the way the dad relates to him through music. The received wisdom is that to build relationship you start by doing what they love to do (even if you don't know why they love to do it.) Although I once tried to get on an imaginary DLR train with Harry and was told to 'get the next one.'
I love the scenery and the grandad shouting at the top of the mountain and the allergy-mum, and I want to know what's going to happen next.
Still, having said all that, I didn't sleep too well after watching the first episode, thinking back to when Harry got his diagnosis (actually, the referral for the diagnosis, an actual diagnosis takes about a year).
The feeling in your stomach when the quirks and characteristics- and struggles- of your funny, charming child raise eyebrows in professionals, and become a list of symptoms. The realisation that these struggles are not going away any time soon.
With the suggestion that your child may be autistic comes a swift reevaluation of everything you hoped, even assumed, might be in your child's future: friends, relationships, a job, independence.
And no matter how annoying the mum may be, I recognised the disbelief, the denial, the 'I'll fix it all' attitude.
In time, the list of symptoms morphed back into my little boy. And the 'label' becomes a handy way to explain to the world why he struggles as he does, and usually gets him a bit more patience and compassion. But it took time to get to that place. In the crisis, the best friends to have around were not the ones who pointed out all the positives of diagnosis but the ones who recognised the heartbreak, with a packet of tissues and an 'I'm sorry.'
I'm glad the BBC have made a sensitive, engaging drama around this subject. I'm glad it's giving people a forum to talk about their own experiences.
I came across this interview with Christopher Eccleston, (the grandad in the show) by a lad with aspergers and a love of Doctor Who. I loved that Christopher Eccleston was the Northern Doctor. All planets have a north.
