I think the first time I watched Gone with the Wind I was somewhere around the age of 10 and the reason I remember the movie is not because of the movie itself or even some of its famous and oft-quoted lines. I remember watching the movie on the couch in our family room of my childhood home with a Madame Alexander Scarlett O’Hara doll in her white dress with a green ribbon and her dark hair and her green eyes. I sat her on the back of the couch as I watched the movie and, at the time, was far more interested in the doll than the movie itself. Still, to this day, I do recall some key moments and, of course, some of the more famous lines, including the phrase, I do declare. As I grew older, that phrase lost some of its southern properness and took on a bit of irony after Carol Burnett encapsulated Scarlett O’Hara her now-famous parody sketch in a gown made from the green velvet draperies complete with the curtain rod through the shoulders.
Today, as I considered the focus for this post, that phrase, I do declare, kept coming to mind as I thought about all of the different declarations my teenagers make in the course of each day, some serious and deep, others, far more comic (maybe even more than they intended). And, the thing about an autistic or neurodivergent brain is we don’t always consider what we’re saying even after we’ve declared it. Sure, we declare something awesome and mean it. We declare something truly awful—food, a movie, the smells wafting from a kitchen—and mean it. When we declare our love and you don’t have to doubt it.
More often than not, the neurodivergent brain tends to operate without the typical filters neurotypical folks use in the course of conversations. So, when we declare something, you can take those words pretty much at face value. This has been true since our girls were young; they don’t couch things in niceties and when they tell someone they have a large backside (yes, this happened when one of my girls was about 9), they aren’t being mean; instead, they are making a factual observation. It may not always come across that way, but that truly is how it is intended (how it’s received, well, that’s always a whole other story, right?).
Perhaps one of my most favorite recent anecdotes was relayed to me by my husband. Our youngest has been volunteering with a weekly program put on for elderly individuals in our local community at the church where my husband currently works. During her first visit she was quite thrilled because she got to assist in handing out prizes participants won while playing Bingo. On that day, she declared things quite a lot of fun. She has since returned for other programs, including musical entertainment as well as a recent technology-focused presentation: Tips for Phones & Devices. At the end of the lecture my teen turned to my husband and apparently announced, Well, that was underwhelming.
I laugh each time I think about this anecdote and I wasn’t even there. By no means did our girl intend any insult and my husband admitted her words pretty much captured what several people were thinking, including himself. The information was helpful, but the way it was presented was not as engaging as it could be because it was pretty much impossible to follow without better visuals. I’m not sure how many times I’ve been guilty of similar declarations over the years.
But the bigger picture of the way these young women’s minds work is to realize they are keen observers of the world and the people in it. They offer new and different perspectives for others to consider. They each experience empathy on such deep levels, and they are also fiercely loyal once you enter their circle of trust. It’s one of the reasons I do my best to heed their words when they are directed at me, especially the ones that might feel a bit critical or “rude” (a word used sometimes to describe autistics and the way they speak).
Long before now and long before diagnoses, we have relied on the idea of assigning positive intent, not just for our kids, but for the world at large. It changes how we see others. And, so, while we may laugh at moments like my teen’s underwhelming comment, we embrace their heartfelt declarations, the ones they share about things they love, about the people they love and admire, about how ridiculous racism and injustice is based on a person’s beliefs, way of life, or the color of their skin. I love the hearts of these two amazing young women; and, so, where Scarlett O’Hara announced, I do declare, I was surprised that you’d turn out to be such a noble character, I would have to say about these two teenagers: I do declare, I’m not surprised you have turned out to be of such noble character. In other words, I am not underwhelmed by who you are becoming, my lovelies.