I think I just fell in love.
Feb. 3rd, 2019 06:14 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sciatrixI got home from my writing retreat in Galveston today to find out that Roomie M and T were raptly watching The Good Doctor, which is a show focusing on a young autistic surgical resident named Shaun Murphy developing his medical career--and this time, they know he's autistic. Like. The writers know, and there's got to be someone on the spectrum on the writing staff, but clearly not everyone on it, but... they are trying very hard. I think Shaun rings truer to me than any character since Abed from Community.
There were a lot of things I was enjoying about the show, but here is the moment where I just fell, uncontrollably and unreservedly, in love:
Shaun walks into a corridor and spots a young man fighting with several people trying to restrain him, flailing uncontrollably, and notices: the young man is nonverbal, overwhelmed, and the more people who try to touch him or shout, the harder he pushes back.
Shaun says "you're scaring him" and is ignored (and probably not heard). He says louder "You're scaring him." and then "You're SCARING HIM" as he intervenes, and as the doctor handling the patient and the aides listen, as they back away, the man stills and relaxes and stops fighting. "He's not psychotic, he's autistic." From another character who is, implicitly and explicitly, an autistic professional in the middle of his goddamn job, and demanding that neurotypical professionals in a position of power listen to his expertise and adjust their behavior accordingly.
I don't think I realized how much that mattered to me, seeing that.
It's not perfect, but what is? And it's very much a show that is--well, for one thing, I'm not sure the show writers have much (any?) experience with those of us who pass, more or less; I mean, I spend half my time translating for a colleague I'd swear on my life is on the spectrum, and my grasp of humor is very good, thank you, and as he's the only regular character on the spectrum, there is... an awful lot of dickish people being dickish, but at least the show clearly doesn't agree with them.
(I did yell at the television at the point that he patiently explains what a stim is to his boss, and why a highly anxious autistic man with claustrophobia might not successfully make it through an MRI because the higher anxiety will make stimming worse, and his boss just... told him he was being boring. Because fuck him. But it's real, at least.
And the episode went on to show him hiding from this patient--trying to pass him off to a colleague who handles him well, and trying to avoid handling his care directly, and being insecure about taking over his care, in a way that feels so real to me. It reminds me of the fear and the anxiety I had over my queer undergraduate student, because I was so terrified I was going to fuck up mentoring them. And the last student I had who carefully explained to me that she was autistic and might not make eye contact with me every time, for that matter. (Neither of them are the first time I've had a kid who pinged me as queer or on the spectrum or both in one of my classes, but they're certainly the most recent.)
God. It ends good. It's --I, oh. I don't think I realized how much it meant to me, seeing someone like me in a position of power and being... conscious of representing himself. Seeing someone in a professional position of respect, someone who is assuming that position where he can be in a position to translate his reality for people who can't necessarily stand against the establishment for themselves--the autistic man's parents are certainly not going to do it--but who is so, so conscious of the precarity of his position at the same time. Watching people like me depicted as adults, full adults, not children, not teenagers--well.
That means something.
There are other things I appreciate, of course. But this is the one that is shouting at me right now. More as I watch, I suppose.
There were a lot of things I was enjoying about the show, but here is the moment where I just fell, uncontrollably and unreservedly, in love:
Shaun walks into a corridor and spots a young man fighting with several people trying to restrain him, flailing uncontrollably, and notices: the young man is nonverbal, overwhelmed, and the more people who try to touch him or shout, the harder he pushes back.
Shaun says "you're scaring him" and is ignored (and probably not heard). He says louder "You're scaring him." and then "You're SCARING HIM" as he intervenes, and as the doctor handling the patient and the aides listen, as they back away, the man stills and relaxes and stops fighting. "He's not psychotic, he's autistic." From another character who is, implicitly and explicitly, an autistic professional in the middle of his goddamn job, and demanding that neurotypical professionals in a position of power listen to his expertise and adjust their behavior accordingly.
I don't think I realized how much that mattered to me, seeing that.
It's not perfect, but what is? And it's very much a show that is--well, for one thing, I'm not sure the show writers have much (any?) experience with those of us who pass, more or less; I mean, I spend half my time translating for a colleague I'd swear on my life is on the spectrum, and my grasp of humor is very good, thank you, and as he's the only regular character on the spectrum, there is... an awful lot of dickish people being dickish, but at least the show clearly doesn't agree with them.
(I did yell at the television at the point that he patiently explains what a stim is to his boss, and why a highly anxious autistic man with claustrophobia might not successfully make it through an MRI because the higher anxiety will make stimming worse, and his boss just... told him he was being boring. Because fuck him. But it's real, at least.
And the episode went on to show him hiding from this patient--trying to pass him off to a colleague who handles him well, and trying to avoid handling his care directly, and being insecure about taking over his care, in a way that feels so real to me. It reminds me of the fear and the anxiety I had over my queer undergraduate student, because I was so terrified I was going to fuck up mentoring them. And the last student I had who carefully explained to me that she was autistic and might not make eye contact with me every time, for that matter. (Neither of them are the first time I've had a kid who pinged me as queer or on the spectrum or both in one of my classes, but they're certainly the most recent.)
God. It ends good. It's --I, oh. I don't think I realized how much it meant to me, seeing someone like me in a position of power and being... conscious of representing himself. Seeing someone in a professional position of respect, someone who is assuming that position where he can be in a position to translate his reality for people who can't necessarily stand against the establishment for themselves--the autistic man's parents are certainly not going to do it--but who is so, so conscious of the precarity of his position at the same time. Watching people like me depicted as adults, full adults, not children, not teenagers--well.
That means something.
There are other things I appreciate, of course. But this is the one that is shouting at me right now. More as I watch, I suppose.
no subject
Date: 2019-02-04 06:53 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-02-05 01:59 pm (UTC)Also, diverse cast. I will probably comment more today--it is Sick Day Round Two, so I expect to watch a fair bit of S1.