Poem for World Autism Acceptance Day 2013

It's World Autism Acceptance Day 2013, and as anyone who has children or other family members rather further along the spectrum than is deemed 'normal', once the white coats have their foot in the door, it can be hard to close it again.  When my two autists were small, I always felt torn between wanting to further the understanding of this often debilitating condition, and a longing for privacy which at one point made me consider doing a bunk with all of my kids and hiding out in the middle of Dartmoor.  

One of the studies we became involved in concerned the molecular genetics of autism.  This involved hours of videotaped face-to-face interviews and tests over quite a few years.  (Apparently I achieved the highest ever score on word recognition, but was really rather unimpressive when it came to spatial awareness, though I reckon my prowess in the former category was down to studying Latin to A-level, rather than an indication of innate savant capabilities.)

 Anyhow, this is a poem I wrote a few years ago about the study, when I had to travel to Oxford for a MEG scan. 

The Molecular Genetics of Autism

for J and S

The White Coats know everything

and today they will explain

the hidden mysteries of my brain

so they strip me of all metal,

tape electrodes to my skin,

then they clamp me in a scanner

in a windowless white box

with lead-lined door.

The scanner will illuminate

the wiring in my head. One day

autism will be dead,

the minds of everyone so perfect

they will glide in punts through Oxford

sipping Pimms.

But the scanner’s wires are crossed.

It can’t unveil the wicked fairy

who bestowed those christening gifts,

it fails to break the wheel

that spun the damaged threads

and I leave with straw and silver seeds

still filling up my head. 

Outside

a vixen prints herself on drifting mist

and disappears

© Deborah Harvey 2010, 2013