The Discovery, Part 2

Of course I had to run more of my experiments and so I followed up with drawing a simple smiley face. I laid the paper next to Jacob with pen and walked away. This time I would really be given a surprise. I came back and he had outdone me. He did not simply imitate. The face he had drawn had detail. It had hair and some sort of glasses. I lovingly scolded, "You stinker! You know how to draw!" Prior to the discovery he had shown no interest in drawing whatsoever. Or he simply did not wish to show us. His sole creative accomplishment had been but a single sheet of construction paper, covered with blue scribbles. I proudly labeled it "BLUE" and had mounted it above his crib. But now, crayons and paper were being used with wild abandon. We would need to buy reams of paper just to keep up with his newfound passion.


What Jacob would then draw after those glorious moments of the discovery was more than astounding. Jacob instinctually understood perspective from the beginning. Houses, igloos, and churches are all equally drawn with depth and precision. Images flow onto the paper effortlessly and with no planning or speculation. At first his artistic fascinations primarily consist of inanimate objects such as buildingsand trains. Later he would begin to draw people and animals, depicting them from his unique perspective. His caricatures are full of personality and express a wide range of human emotions. I see my son in these drawings, his passion pouring out of a black stub of a crayon. With the same flourish of his small hands he is able to draw a powerful locomotive or show awareness of the social intricacies of a birthday party.


Jacob still hides himself. It is quite often difficult for anyone to get physically near him as he draws. There are times he will rip up a creation as soon as it is finished, as though to disallow any attention to his talents. If he does not shred them, he crumples them into paperballs, which he tosses haphazardly over his shoulder onto the floor. I lovingly rush in to save them, smoothing out wrinkles and mending any tears with tape. Sometimes he catches me and glares with disapproval.


Then there are the glorious times when Jacob willingly shares himself with me. Through his art we are able to have wordless conversations. What he is unable to express through words, he is able to draw. When he wanted to go strawberry picking, for example, he did not use words to convey his wishes. He drew them instead. He carefully laid out a series of pictures upon my kitchen floor. A drawing of a strawberry, a church we would see within view of the strawberry field, and a basket, clearly told a story of his desire. In comparison, words would not have given me such a rich portrait of Jacob's world. And a beautifulworld it is, complete with giant pocked strawberries and the majestic pillars of a beloved church.


Discovery can sometimes come on the heels of despair. On the day that my son was diagnosed I could only focus upon the limitations the autism label would bestow. I was half convinced that Jacob was a walking checklist of aberrant behaviors, or that he could be defined by a lack of skills he was thought to never master. I felt the weight of hopelessness, wondering if I could ever hope to reach my son. Yet something told me I could find him beyond the confines of any label. I sought to find the boy I knew, the boy I wanted and needed to love. A simple circle became a symbol of hope. He drew a circle and let me in.

Thank you Nancy, mother of nearly ten year old Jacob for the conclusion of this story!

JulieB