Fact Into Fiction

When I began this blog in March of 2011, I had one purpose in mind. Actually there were several, but most important was to show how lives can be ruined when people don’t understand about autism and how it works.

As an example, I took the case of James Ryo Kiyan, who was accused of harassing Miss M, a coworker, when he insisted on trying to patch up what he thought was a simple misunderstanding. To his mind, they had a promising friendship and he wanted to get it back on track. Little did he know there was no friendship. His Asperger syndrome made him “different” and made Miss M “uncomfortable.”

Because of the Asperger’s, his insistence became persistence, to the extent that Miss M perceived a threat and took to carrying a knife and pepper spray. Although he explained that he had Asperger’s, no one in the Sullivan County government understood, or cared to understand, what that entailed. Even Michael Sussman, the defense attorney Ryo hired, failed him in that respect. They were all obtuse. I have never been clear whether “obtuse” means stubborn or stupid. It seems to be both. Webster defines it as: “slow to understand or perceive; dull or insensitive” [Webster’s New World Collegiate Dictionary, fourth edition].

As a result, they hounded Ryo out of a job for which he had spent years preparing, and, indirectly, out of his life.

Without realizing how wise she was, or even that he had Asperger’s, his cousin, Sharleen Inouye, who knew him well, described him perfectly: “His reality was different from the norm, but that was what made him unique.”

Before I launched the blog, even before Ryo’s death, I had begun a novel inspired by his case. It has taken a long time and is now in the revision stage. Its working title is The REvengers, which encompasses both the mystery plot and the Asperger plot. Formerly it was A Different Planet, because for people with Asperger’s, their reality does vary so far from the norm that they often feel they are on a planet different from Earth. As one of my characters points out, those regarded as “neurotypicals” (people without Asperger’s) are typical only because they are in the majority. If not for that, they would be considered the oddballs and Aspergians would be the norm.

Because the novel is intended for young adults, my protagonists are in high school rather than the workplace. The two situations—the mystery/suspense main plot and the Asperger subplot—converge at the end, with one explaining the other.

In real life I doubt we will ever know what filled Miss M with such terror that she took to carrying a knife and pepper spray. Ryo was persistent, it’s true, and probably annoying. But never did he threaten her or intend any harm.

Nor does my hero, Ben, who runs into the same problem with a girl. In fiction, however, the important questions must be answered, or readers are left frustrated. In The REvengers, Miss M’s fictional counterpart, Kelsey, does have issues that cause her to panic at the simple invitation to a movie. The source of this is what my heroine, Cree, discovers in the end as she fights for her life.

Many of the elements in Ryo’s case work well in my high school setting. The two-hour session with an attorney bellowing nonstop, for instance. The charge of sexual harassment, which devastates Ben so much that he attempts suicide. The same charge devastated Ryo and contributed to his suicide. And then there’s the knife, which shocks Ben and shocked Ryo. He never realized how badly he upset Miss M, because Aspies are notably poor at “reading” other people. He really did like her, and regretted any trouble he caused. But when he learned about the knife, he was heard to mutter “Psycho bitch.” Ben, too, although he regrets the emotional pain he has inflicted on Kelsey, utters those same words in the same circumstances.

Finally, there’s the humiliating “perp walk.” In Ryo’s case, he was led out of the office by two sheriff’s deputies in full view of his coworkers. Since Ben is in high school and not working for the county, it’s the custodian and shop teacher who march him out in full view of his classmates. As Ben says later, “As if they thought I was going to make a run for it. Or throw a bomb, or something.” For both Ryo and Ben, the show of muscle was completely unnecessary and only served to humiliate.

In one scene Ben tells Cree about his idealism. For this I quoted in part from an e-mail Ryo wrote, which I also quoted in an earlier post. Here it is again, in Ryo’s exact words:

As you know, we Aspies are susceptible to idealism. That is why we are frequently cited as being principled, and honest, and supporters of social justice. In our naiveté, we can latch on to visions of the way the world ought to be, which are generally the very same visions held up by society at large as the way the world is supposed to be: a world where everybody gets along, tries to be nice, tries to work for the common good, doesn’t hold grudges, etc.

 

The NT’s [neurotypicals, or non-Aspies] say they want this world, but then they go ahead with all of their exceptions, and they tell you it shouldn’t bother you that someone you see every day hates your guts, and doesn’t want to talk to you, and thinks bad things about you that aren’t true. You don’t understand this, and the NT’s, in turn, are utterly baffled by your incomprehension. Not being true idealists, and not trying to picture the world in all its wholeness as a system that should be perfected in all its parts, they simply can’t understand why you would want to say “good morning” to someone who despises you. Not understanding that, they interpret your desire to get along with your enemies (I’ve often wondered—was Jesus an Aspie??) as something unnatural and dangerous. The only reason you could want to say hello to a girl who hates you is because you’re “obsessed” with her. Even people who try to be sympathetic with you (your psychotherapists, your lawyer) believe what amounts to the same thing. You’re “perseverating,” you’re trying to tie up loose ends in an impractical way.

 

But the simple truth is, you’re just trying to do what they always told you was the right thing, which is to strive for what’s good, and which in this case is to get along with people. And when somebody you see every day feels threatened by you—when you know there’s no reason—and won’t even talk to you, that’s a pretty good indication that there’s something wrong. And wrong things need to be righted. And being a logical Aspie, you might liken it to somebody feeling threatened by people of a different skin color or religion. That would be wrong. It’s wrong to feel threatened by people when you don’t have a good reason, isn’t it?

In writing both the novel and the blog, I hope to give the “neurotypical” world a glimpse of what it’s like to be an Aspie trying to live in that world. As I have one of my characters reflect on how hard it is for an NT (neurotypical) to imagine what it’s like to be autistic, it’s equally hard for an autistic to imagine what it’s like to be neurotypical. Autism is all they have ever known. How can they be expected to conform to a world they have never experienced and with which they are constitutionally unable to identify?

 At one point my heroine Cree says to Ben, “Even if you have trouble understanding other people’s thoughts and feelings, you have to keep in mind that they do have thoughts and feelings.” This works both ways. Though it’s equally hard for neurotypicals to imagine what it’s like to be autistic, it’s equally important for them to grasp that autism is different from what they know, and to make allowances for it.

 If this had happened in Ryo’s case—and he did tell them he had Asperger’s—he might still be with us today and able to live out the life that showed such promise. My hero Ben, since he is of my own creation, is fortunate enough to have that chance.

Author Inspiration

It’s a while since I last posted, due to having been incarcerated with a fractured hip. Now I am home, getting around in a wheelchair, and besieged by an army of well-meaning ladies, the home health team.

If that sounds resentful, it’s because I am—not of them, they are all very nice, but of my condition. As I explained to my daughter, what I resent is needing to be helped, not the helpers themselves.

That was the theme of one of my early young adult novels, Don’t Look at Me that Way, which is now out of print. It was inspired by something that happened to a family friend. She had taken under her wing an underprivileged youth who seemed to have much potential. He won her heart to the extent that she planned to give him an old car she had no more use for. Before the transfer could be made, he stole it.

Over and over again, she lamented, “I was going to give him the car.” She hadn’t a clue why he would do such a thing. Nor had I. I had never even met the young man, but for my purposes, his reason was unimportant. In writerly fashion, I said to myself, “If I had done a thing like that, why would I have done it?”

And there was my story. The protagonist of Don’t Look at Me that Way is nineteen-year-old Rosa, of Puerto Rican descent, who lives with her mother and multiple siblings in a crowded New York City tenement. Rosa, bright and capable, is hired as an au pair for a well-heeled woman, Mrs. Pritchard, who has two young children, a well-paid husband, a cleaning woman, and no outside job. Rosa can’t believe how someone with such an easy life could feel so burdened that she needs a mother’s helper. As the Pritchards vacation on Long Island Sound, Rosa meets a young man who teaches her the rudiments of driving.

You guessed it. Mrs. Pritchard plans to give Rosa an old car she doesn’t want any more. No sooner are they back in the city than Rosa’s mother dies, leaving her with a batch of younger siblings, one of whom is in trouble with the police. It’s the story of her life, but not of her benefactress’s life. In anger and agony, Rosa steals the car and leaves it in a slummy section of Manhattan.

True, it was a pointless, unproductive thing for her to do. A purely emotional reaction. People of my mother’s generation, full of social conscience without knowing anything but privilege, couldn’t understand it at all, and questioned the sense of my novel. Nevertheless, it resonated with others and received a commendation from the Council on Interracial Books for Children. The book has a satisfactory, if not fairytale, ending. I don’t remember exactly how I worked it, the thing was written it so long ago. I do recall that Rosa has a loyal boyfriend, Julio, who delivers groceries, plans to marry her, and help her raise those siblings.

A question frequently asked of fiction authors is, “Where do you get your ideas?” The usual answer is, “Ideas are everywhere.”

And they are. When I began this blog I mentioned that I was writing a young adult novel inspired by what happened to Ryo Kiyan. I couldn’t not write it because I want people to understand about Asperger’s Syndrome. The setting is changed from an office to a school. And whereas I will never know what made the real Miss M so afraid that she took to carrying a knife, I’ve provided an answer for my characters. I’ve also added a mystery, with the Aspie in trouble as a parallel plot. The two will converge at the end.

We’ll have more about this in the next post.

Afterglow

They told me my son was dead. I knew something must have happened. For days I hadn’t heard from him—no answers to my e-mails, no response to my phone calls. But when they told me he was dead, it didn’t seem real. Even now, almost a year later, it still doesn’t.

We had planned, my daughter and I, that I would move in with her once Ryo found a job and was settled somewhere. She took a week off from work to help me pack. Too fast, I thought. But there seemed no reason for delay. I was in a daze.

Someone needed to write an obituary. I had never been clear who did that sort of thing. Never thought about it. Obits simply appeared. It should be a family member, I supposed. I was the writer in the family. I had read enough obituaries and quickly turned out something trite and cliché-ridden. The following appeared in the Middletown (NY) Times Herald-Record on October 21, 2010.

JAMES RYO KIYAN

March 13, 1962 – October 2, 2010

Wurtsboro, NY

James Ryo Kiyan, beloved son of Caroline Crane and the late Yoshio Kiyabu, passed away on October 2, 2010, in the Shenandoah National Park in Virginia.

 Ryo was born in New York City and attended public schools, including the well-known Stuyvesant High School. At Grinnell College he earned a Bachelor’s degree in American history. After that, he worked in law offices in Chevy Chase, MD, and Los Angeles, CA, until he decided his real interest was in map-making. Returning to New York State, he earned a certificate in Geographic Information Systems technology at Ulster County Community College, then a second Bachelor’s degree in geography at SUNY New Paltz. His first and only job in that field was with the Planning Division of the Sullivan County government. Ryo had a brilliant mind but all his life was socially impaired by Asperger’s syndrome. He tried to make the best of it and kept on working at the most satisfying job he ever had, even through a bout of cancer and six grueling months of chemotherapy. He was successful in his work, and his maps can still be seen in various places in the county. In spite of his efforts, eventually he lost the job and was unable to find another in his field. He had gone to Washington DC to look for work, and died on a camping trip in the mountains of Shenandoah Park.

Ryo had a quirky sense of humor, loved animals, and enjoyed hiking and camping. He was a member of the New York-New Jersey Trail Conference, the Sierra Club, and the Basha Kill Area Association. Besides his mother, he leaves a sister, Laurel, and her husband Joe, of NY; a nephew, Kieran; an uncle, Alan Crane and his wife, Tamara of Silver Spring, MD; three aunts, Harriette Kiyabu of Los Angeles, Allison Crane, of Irvington-on-Hudson, NY, and Frances Crane, of New York City, as well as numerous cousins in Los Angeles, Arizona, Hawaii, and Hungary. He is sadly missed by all. Arrangements for cremation are through the Baker-Post Funeral Home of Manassas, VA. A memorial service will be held at a later time. In lieu of flowers, contributions may be made in Ryo’s name to the Minnewaska State Park Preserve.

 Letters, phone calls, and e-mails poured in. If only Ryo had known how many people appreciated him, it might, at least in part, have made up for Sullivan County’s lack of compassion and understanding. When informed of what happened to him, a former girlfriend from Grinnell wrote:

At Grinnell he was considered eccentric (but that was a badge of honor at a place like Grinnell!), but a very good and nice guy and certainly no woman was ever afraid of him. My family enjoyed him. If I may be so bold, he had several very good, intelligent, balanced and capable girlfriends for fairly long term relations (I think we were together for 18 months, he and Pam for a year?). I only wish he would have called myself or Laura Davis when the work problems began because I think we could have helped him to sort it out. I am so sorry he suffered so much. He is remembered by his beloved Grinnellians as the best of people, playful and original.

Other comments from various sources appear in other posts on this blog.

The memorial service had to wait until the family could get together, along with someone to conduct the service. Back in my Wurtsboro days I had been a member of the Summitville Fire Company Auxiliary. The chaplain of the Auxiliary, and someone my sisters and I had met when we occasionally attended church in Summitville, was The Rev. Camille Regholec. What was my amazement when I looked through the listings in the local (Catskill) newspaper and found Camille named as pastor of the Palenville (where I now live) Methodist Church. Even more amazing was that the paper no longer gives the names of pastors, but did then. They had the address and phone number wrong but I finally reached Camille and we settled on June 4, 2011, for the service.

I had been in touch with the Asperger’s support group Ryo sometimes attended. Several members of it, along with many other people, came to the service. One member, Jesse Saperstein, had written a book, Atypical: Life with Asperger’s in 20⅓ Chapters. Jesse was horrified to learn of Ryo’s fate and, as an activist trying to promote a better understanding of Asperger’s, agreed to give the eulogy.

Several relatives were left in tears. Others said it was the best eulogy they had ever heard. Below are Jesse’s words in their entirety.

Thank you ladies and gentlemen for allowing me to speak here today.  I have not delivered too many eulogies in my life and this one is probably going to be the hardest I’ll ever have to perform.  I did not have the privilege of knowing this incredible man who left our hearts and souls prematurely.  Our physical paths crossed too briefly when we both attended a barbeque last summer at the home of a mutual friend named Kate Palmer.  But from learning about him through the blog entries of his mother, Caroline Crane, and seeing all the people who have come to honor him today…I desperately wish there was an opportunity to turn back the clock and reach out to him.  Especially if I had known the level of anguish he was battling.  I have heard enough wonderful things about him to speak at this service honoring his contributions, stunted potential, and friendships that were cultivated with all of you.

Despite being blessed with the support of his incredible mother, Caroline Crane, and many of you in the congregation, Ryo was someone who did not receive too many “breaks” in his life, but seemed to do the absolute best he could with his social challenges.  As most of you already know, these challenges revolved around an undiagnosed case of Asperger’s syndrome or mild autism.  Yet he persisted with the passion of an underdog in a constant search for mercy in a world that often treated him like a square peg grinding its way into a round hole.  A world that reacted with fear and ignorance when that was easier than giving him the benefit of the doubt.

But for most of his life, Ryo never gave up, which is one of the factors that probably exacerbated his misery.  When something was broken…he wanted to try and fix it.  When a misunderstanding occurred, he attempted to resolve it.  When there were unanswered questions…he fought for closure.  When someone was afraid of his benign eccentricities…he put all his energy into helping them absolve that fear.  His determined soul was not built for a society that often preferred to give up in favor of what is easiest.

Ryo never stopped looking for a community that would show unconditional acceptance or at least differentiate between Asperger’s syndrome and malicious behavior.  Even if this meant moving across the country in search for a better life in Los Angeles, Ryo took these actions and more.

Ryo was a survivor in both the metaphorical and literal sense of the word.  Even during the grueling, six month regimen of chemotherapy to treat his bout with colon cancer, he refused to give up on work and life.  As his mother, Caroline, wrote in a recent blog entry, Rather than be dependant, he asked the oncologist to go easy on whatever sedative they added to lessen the discomfort. He wanted to stay awake both for driving and for work. His fellow staff members knew he was being treated, but only one, who had been through it himself, really understood the physical and emotional toll.

There were several factors contributing to Ryo’s unfortunate choice, although it is not fair to blame specific individuals for his departure.  But what I do know is things could have, would have, and should have been resolved with a semblance of dialogue and additional compassion.  I will not let this go and hopefully you won’t either as we search for answers and most important…prevention of future tragedies.

Ryo is someone who I would have liked to know better and he could have made a profound difference in my life. The irrational fear and constant misunderstandings that plagued his life are something I can relate to because we share the same diagnosis.  I can also empathize with the feelings of profound helplessness and sometimes wanting to give up in the worst way possible.  Ryo is definitely a man I would have wanted in my life who could have offered hope during dark periods.  In return, I would have done my best to return the favor.  Let the Ryos of today and tomorrow know there is an entire congregation of individuals who care about them and will help them fight for ourselves.

Sleeping Under a Bridge

 

After his dismissal from the Sullivan County Division of Planning, Ryo Kiyan was convinced he would end his days doing just that—sleeping under a bridge. The nation was in a recession and he had been dismissed with the slimiest of charges: sexual harassment. Although his attorney had pretty much proved there was nothing sexual about it, sexual harassment was mentioned at least three times in the final determination from the hearing officer, Lynda Levine, Esq.

With the recession, there were very few jobs available, especially in the field of GIS (Geographical Information Systems), for which he had spent almost ten years preparing himself. He offered his services to the county on a volunteer basis. He also tried to volunteer for other causes, such as Sullivan County’s Bicentennial, and Habitat for Humanity. No one returned his phone calls. It made him think he’d been blacklisted. Who would want to hire a sexual harasser, even free of charge?

He wrote to the various county commissioners and approached other lawyers. Maybe something could be done on the basis of the Americans with Disabilities Act. Asperger’s syndrome, which is what got him into trouble, is regarded as a disability—so much so that cases more severe than his are eligible for Social Security.

None of the attorneys was much help. Their general attitude, Ryo felt, was “You screwed up, buddy, this is your problem.” Perhaps there wasn’t enough money in it to catch their interest. Ryo became embittered. He had already given them all his money, and borrowed some from his mother.

In spite of his prolonged efforts to appeal, he never stopped looking for work. Any work. Month after month of 2010 went by. He was aware of a well-known truism, that the longer a person is unemployed, the harder it becomes to find employment. He spent hours online applying for jobs, all to no avail.

At the end of September he decided to try Washington, DC. He had lived and worked there at one time, and he liked it. The day before he left, he attended a cookout for members of a support group whose meetings he had occasionally attended. It was held in the village of Palenville, where his sister lived. For sociability, he left his mother and their two dogs at his sister’s house and picked them up when the party was over.

Jesse Saperstein, Brian Liston, Jason Cohen, James Ryo Kiyan, Jonas ?, Kate Palmer, Curt Emond

His mother remembers that drive home along Route 209—the streaks of sunset, the dark trees on the mountainside. The Summitville firehouse. Almost home. It would be the last time.

The next day he finished packing, embraced his mother goodbye, petted each dog on the head, and drove off. It was early afternoon. Several hours later he sent an e-mail:

Here I am at the Days Inn in Laurel, Md., using the hotel’s Wi-Fi. . . . I drove straight through to Alan’s [his uncle], 5.5 hr. Dined with them. Am meeting Alan at 8 a.m. tomorrow at his house & we’re taking the Metro to the city.

Just before leaving for DC, Ryo had ordered a laptop to help in his job search. Shipment was delayed and he didn’t want to wait, so he borrowed his mother’s laptop and also her cell phone. Both were kept busy as he engaged her help in renewing his health insurance. He seemed to have it all under control except for a job itself.

A few days later came another e-mail, dated Friday, October 01, 2010:

Dear Mom and Alan,

I’ve signed up for another 7 nights at the hotel. Mom, if I don’t find a job by Friday October 8, I guess I’ll be back between 6 p.m. & midnight that day (I’ll give you a better idea hopefully by then). Alan, I’ll see you at 7 p.m. tonight. Love, Ryo

He never showed up at Alan’s that night. Nor did he arrive at home on the 8^th. There were no more phone calls, no messages, no e-mails. His mother tried to keep in touch, letting him know the new laptop had arrived. Asking if she should take care of his car insurance.

After a while her messages grew more frantic. “Where are you? You’re scaring me.”

More days passed. His family received a phone call that his car had been abandoned at the Shenandoah National Park in Virginia. With the car identified, a search of the park began. He was on record as having hiked there several years before. By following that information, they found him on October 14, on Pignut Mountain.

That evening, two state troopers arrived at his mother’s door. They waited while she got the dogs shut up, and made sure she was sitting down. Then they told her bluntly “Your son is deceased.”

The park did a thorough investigation and when it was finished, released the two notes he had left. One of them said,

Dear Family,

Don’t feel sorry for me. I was just a perpetually dissatisfied old man who was going nowhere fast. I’ve had a long life, many good times, and I love everybody. Love, Ryo

The other, dated 10-2-10, was more specific:

You hear a lot of talk about “community” these days but it’s just an empty buzzword. People who are having a tough time expressing themselves to the people whom they admire and count on shouldn’t be denigrated and trashed and expected to fend for themselves.

That was all it said. And that said it all.

County Victorious

The case of Sullivan County vs. James Ryo Kiyan might have ended differently if Ryo’s Asperger’s syndrome had been taken into account.

Those with Asperger’s experience the world in a way that is hard to describe and almost impossible for others to understand. Ryo knew he was incurring disfavor, but he couldn’t stop. All he wanted was that treasured friendship with Miss M. He wanted her to like him, to understand him, and his persistence only made things worse. It might have helped if he had had someone, call it an advocate, who could have explained at the hearings how Asperger’s feels and how it works. At one point this was suggested to the family, but they had no idea how to find such a person. All Ryo had was his attorney, Michael Sussman, who mentioned Asperger’s only once during the hearing and who had stopped Ryo from submitting proof of his diagnosis to the hearing officer, Lynda Levine, Esq. In that void, Ms. Levine could only give a negative report with the recommendation that Ryo’s employment with the county be terminated. The grounds were sexual harassment (for upsetting Miss M), as well as insubordination (for not obeying the rules laid down by his superiors).

He knew he had done wrong, but hadn’t realized it was that wrong. Not wrong enough to bring down his whole world. Until then, he had clung to the hope that they would realize he meant no harm, despite Miss M’s assertion that she had been terrified into carrying a knife and pepper spray. To those who knew him, that was almost laughable. Miss M wasn’t laughing. Apparently she didn’t know him, or didn’t know any other way of getting him off her back. Nor did Ms. Levine, Esq. The last tenuous hope was that Luiz Aragon, the new Commissioner of Planning, who had never met Ryo, might relent.

In December of 2009, the axe fell. Ryo was formally dismissed.

James Ryo Kiyan, self-portrait in mirror

All during the hearings, Mrs. Kiyabu was forced to stay quiet. Now she felt compelled to speak up, and wrote the following letter:

Dear Ms. Levine:

As you can probably tell by my name, I am Ryo Kiyan’s mother. I attended all four sessions of the hearings about his case at the end of last summer. At that time I heard Mr. Sussman ask each witness a series of questions as to whether they noticed anything that could be construed as harassment of a sexual nature. All but one (regarding an oblique reference to Miss M’s physical appearance), were answered in the negative. In your report, however, you mentioned sexual harassment several times. It is a stigma that could follow Ryo all his life. That stigma, and the loss of his job—the first he ever really enjoyed—have him so despondent that he feels his life is over.

On the minus side of Mr. Sussman’s performance, for reasons of his own he chose to downplay the fact that Ryo is afflicted with Asperger’s syndrome, a form of autism, which was the chief cause of his obsessive and persistent behavior. It is a known fact that people with Asperger’s, in their loneliness, tend to assume a friendship where there is none. That is exactly what happened. When Ryo received a formal diagnosis last July and wanted to submit the proof to you, Mr. Sussman discouraged him. He also never brought in the severe depression that Ryo suffered as a result of his year-long battle with cancer and the ravages of chemotherapy, which gave him a fragile emotional state. Having faced death, he was eager to live again and have friends.

I am not expecting anyone to change the decision. What’s done is done, and the job is gone now anyway. Ryo knows he made a mistake in pestering Miss M, and he kept trying to apologize to her and repair the friendship that he (mistakenly) thought existed. Because of the Asperger’s, those efforts were too much and too many. He realizes that now. Considering his disability—and it is a disability—the whole mess could have been avoided with a simple mediation session. He would have understood. He is extremely intelligent, as many people like him are. They only flunk when it comes to social situations. By the way, this letter is my own. Ryo knows nothing about it.

As fully expected, Ms. Levine never responded. With its work done, and the oddball successfully eradicated, the county was ready to move on.

Oh, the Terror of It All

A few days ago my daughter brought home a long-time friend, named Craig. There was obviously something different about him. He talked in a monotone and was stiffly polite. He also remembered having met me at my daughter’s wedding eleven years ago.

I thought she must have mentioned it to him: “You met my mom, etc. . .” It turns out she hadn’t. He remembered me and everyone else who was there. I’m told he probably remembered what color clothes they had on, and other details as well.

Do you recall the scene in Rainman when Dustin Hoffman sees a pile of toothpicks on the floor and can tell at a glance how many are in that pile? His character, Raymond, was what is known as an autistic savant. Raymond’s brain worked in ways that a neurotypical person (NT) can’t begin to imagine. How do such people see things? How do they process what they see?

At one time, Raymond would have been labeled an “idiot savant.” You can forget the “idiot.” It’s true, he would have had trouble living on his own and doing many of the things a typical person can do. But in exchange, he could do many things an NT can’t do. Rather than deficient, Raymond was—well, different. In his book The Myriad Gifts of Asperger’s Syndrome, John M. Ortiz, Ph.D., an expert in the field, cites examples similar to, and some even more extraordinary, than the fictional one in the movie.

Dr. Hans Asperger, whose name was given to the syndrome, recognized that those gifts could be of value to the rest of society, if people would get past their prejudices and realize that there is nothing wrong with being different. The only thing that makes neurotypicals “typical” is that they are in the majority. What if it were the other way around?

Because of that prejudice, James Ryo Kiyan, a cartographer with Sullivan County’s Division of Planning and the protagonist of this blog, lost his entire future. It was a promising future and his work was often praised. Still, he had a few peculiarities that made a young woman “uncomfortable.” What was worse, he failed to understand that his persistence in trying to make peace with her only exacerbated that discomfort.

Her feeling seems to have arisen when Ryo had the nerve to look at the books in her apartment, a rather idle activity that he considered natural and normal. She, apparently, did not, and said herself that it made her “uncomfortable.” Thus began the downturn in what Ryo saw as a pleasant friendship. In his anguished determination to have her think well of him, as an Aspie he failed to understand her point of view. And so, instead of healing the breach, he only dug himself into a hole from which there was no recovery. One might argue that he did it to himself. That would be ignoring the fact of his Asperger’s and the entirely different perception that goes with it. It was his feeling at the time that the county wanted to be rid of him simply because he was an oddball.

What followed might have been avoided if someone had had the wits and compassion to get Ryo and Miss M together and help bring about a mutual understanding. That would have eased Miss M’s fears, saved a man with much potential from utter destruction, and also saved the county considerable expense. But the bureaucratic mentality superseded common sense and the juggernaut rolled on.

Aside from ignorance, prejudice, and a basic lack of creative thinking, another factor in the case of Sullivan County vs. James Ryo Kiyan may have been Miss M’s family connections within the county’s law enforcement structure. Her father was a retired state trooper and a good friend of the county sheriff.

Then, too—and this is only a guess—something may have been going on with Miss M herself, something that wasn’t supposed to be made public. Several things led me to wonder about this. I never did learn the reason why defense attorney Michael Sussman declined to submit Ryo’s diagnosis of Asperger’s to the person who was scheduled to hear the case against him. What was the point in going through all those tests and interviews—which cost Ryo a bundle—if the results were not to be used?

I was startled when, at a session of the hearing, Miss M revealed that in her terror at Ryo’s persistence, she had taken to carrying a knife and pepper spray. As I recall, she said it under oath. When we broke for lunch that day, I asked Sussman, “I thought it was illegal to carry a concealed weapon. Or does that only mean firearms?”

He made a shushing motion with both hands, as if I had said something compromising. No one else was in earshot except for Ryo and a few totally uninterested Chinese waiters. So why, I wondered, the shushing? It was his only response. I never did get an answer and couldn’t help developing my own theory, based partly on the fact that Sussman and the Sullivan County attorney were friends. It seemed like a kind of coverup. From the beginning, my family had wondered at Miss M’s extreme reaction. I remember someone saying, “They may know something about her.”

Apparently the discomfort began when he looked at the books on her shelf. That discomfort caused her to turn away from him, which caused him to try to mend whatever rift there was, which caused the rift to grow wider, and so it went, right up to his suspension in May of 2009. (See earlier posts for more details.)

The hearing took place at the end of August and ran into early September. Finally, in December of that year, the hearing officer, Lynda Levine, Esq., was ready with her recommendation.

Waiting

Life can be difficult if you have Asperger’s syndrome. In their youth, Aspies are often bullied. They are, after all, “different.” They make people “uncomfortable.” Children notice those things and children can be almost as prejudiced as adults.

When grown, Aspies may have a hard time finding a niche. Many drift from one unsatisfying job to another, with periods of unemployment between—even without a recession.

Despite a brilliant mind and many talents, Ryo Kiyan was one of those. He was fragmented. He couldn’t get himself together. Not until he reached his forties did he decide that what he really wanted to do was make maps. He spent several years studying Geographic Information Systems (GIS), and acquiring a second Bachelor’s degree in geography. He already had one in American history. With those qualifications, he landed the first job he applied for, that of GIS technician with the Sullivan County Division of Planning and Environmental Management.

He was on his way. Life had finally opened up for him and he could join the human race. He made friends. He bought a new car. He had a job he loved. And then, in a relatively short time, it was all gone. Because of his Asperger’s. And a woman who felt “uncomfortable.”

He had thought that he and Miss M were friends. But when he tried to make an innocuous date with her, she froze. She may not have been as attracted to him as he was to her, but he hadn’t tried to come on to her. He only suggested dinner and a movie. At her apartment. He realized later that that was clumsy and inappropriate, but every time he tried to apologize and explain, she refused to talk about it. Wanting badly to mend the rift, he persisted, in his Aspergian way. That persistence frightened her. This was the woman who felt “uncomfortable” when Ryo looked at the books in her apartment.

Other Aspies have had the same problem. As Jesse Saperstein wrote in his autobiographical Atypical: Living with Asperger’s Syndrome in 20⅓ Chapters: “My persistence is so overbearing that girls misconstrue it as stalking.” Ryo never meant to frighten the woman. He had no idea wha happened, until he found out much later that she had taken to carrying a knife and pepper spray. He also learned that her fear made her cry. It astounded him and he told his family to stop criticizing her.

She reported the situation to her superiors, who ordered him to leave her alone. He tried to, in his way, but she was right there. He couldn’t believe he was supposed to ignore her existence. Aspies need their instructions spelled out concretely and in full detail.

In an e-mail, Ryo described what he felt was a major theme in the case, and that was his “idealism.”

As you know, we Aspies are susceptible to idealism. That is why we are frequently cited as being principled, and honest, and supporters of social justice. In our naiveté, we can latch on to visions of the way the world ought to be, which are generally the very same visions held up by society at large as the way the world is supposed to be: a world where everybody gets along, tries to be nice, tries to work for the common good, doesn’t hold grudges, etc.

 The NT’s [neurotypicals, or non-Aspies] say they want this world, but then they go ahead with all of their exceptions, and they tell you it shouldn’t bother you that someone you see every day hates your guts, and doesn’t want to talk to you, and thinks bad things about you that aren’t true. You don’t understand this, and the NT’s, in turn, are utterly baffled by your incomprehension. Not being true idealists, and not trying to picture the world in all its wholeness as a system that should be perfected in all its parts, they simply can’t understand why you would want to say “good morning” to someone who despises you. Not understanding that, they interpret your desire to get along with your enemies (I’ve often wondered—was Jesus an Aspie??) as something unnatural and dangerous. The only reason you could want to say hello to a girl who hates you is because you’re “obsessed” with her. Even people who try to be sympathetic with you (your psychotherapists, your lawyer, your sister) believe what amounts to the same thing. You’re “perseverating,” you’re trying to tie up loose ends in an impractical way.

 But the simple truth is, you’re just trying to do what they always told you was the right thing, which is to strive for what’s good, and which in this case is to get along with people. And when somebody you see every day feels threatened by you—when you know there’s no reason—and won’t even talk to you, that’s a pretty good indication that there’s something wrong. And wrong things need to be righted. And being a logical Aspie, you might liken it to somebody feeling threatened by people of a different skin color or religions. That would be wrong. It’s wrong to feel threatened by people when you don’t have a good reason, isn’t it?

Because he was half Okinawan, Ryo thought for a time that racial bias might have played a part in what was happening to him. He had yet to learn that the bias against Aspies, who make people “uncomfortable” simply because they are not like the majority, is even stronger.

The county served him with charges of harassment and a hearing was scheduled for late summer. He would be represented by Michael Sussman, a well-known civil rights attorney. Because his behavior toward Miss M was caused in large part by his Asperger’s syndrome, and Asperger’s is regarded as a disability, he felt that his rights as a disabled person were violated. In other words, in the eyes of Sullivan County, he had no right to have been born with Asperger’s.

To make that argument stick, Mr. Sussman urged Ryo to get a formal diagnosis, which he did, from a noted expert on autism. When the letter arrived confirming that diagnosis, he was elated. It explained so much that had gone wrong in his life. Many Aspies have felt the same way. Their problems finally had a name.

Ryo was ready to submit that letter to the designated hearing officer.  For reasons never explained, Sussman advised him not to do that. After the hearing, Ryo’s puzzled mother sent an e-mail to Mr. Sussman asking the reason for suppressing that information. She never received an answer.

Waiting for the hearing was stressful. Ryo spent much time on the Internet looking for answers and not finding them. He tried to relax by hiking in nearby mountains and taking pictures.

Self portrait on hike

Ironically, his job was drying up anyway. Due to budget cuts, the GIS section of the Sullivan County Division of Planning was to be abolished and its two members laid off. Ryo could only hope he would be reinstated long enough for an honorable lay-off.

The hearing lasted four days, from the end of August to the beginning of September. The county called several witnesses. Ryo had no witnesses but himself. His mother and sister attended but had to stay quiet. In any case, they weren’t actual witnesses. Once it was over, the final recommendation was up to Lynda Levine, Esq. She said it would take six weeks to reach a decision. It took longer.

In His Own Words

Recently I came across a book I had bought for something I was writing. It was Obsessive Love by Dr. Susan Forward. The title says it all and the attitudes and behavior it describes are appalling. What appalled me the most was that it seemed to echo Miss M’s take on what happened between James Ryo Kiyan and herself. The purpose of this blog is to emphasize that Aspies (those with Asperger’s syndrome) experience the world differently from non-Aspies. They should be viewed according to who they are and not judged by inapplicable standards. As my friend Jesse Saperstein put it in an e-mail, in cases such as Ryo’s there is a need to explain the difference between stalking and benign persistence.

Following is a letter Ryo wrote to the person who would be conducting his hearing. In it he describes his version of the events that led to the charges against him. Only the names of those involved have been changed. The letter is dated July 20, 2009, and titled Re: Disciplinary Charges against James Ryo Kiyan. Here is the text in its entirety:

To the Hearing Officer:

The following is my account of events in the above-referenced matter. My purpose is not so much to convince others that my perspective is the only right one, as it is to demonstrate that I am in fact an intelligent, thoughtful, and sensitive person, and that I am intellectually and emotionally equipped to make the adjustments in my behavior that will permit me to continue functioning successfully in my job as a GIS technician for the Planning Division of Sullivan County.

In January of this year [2009], I felt that Miss M and I were developing a friendship. The validity of this belief can be discussed elsewhere, if necessary. For now, I will only say that my interest in friendship was based on my admiration for her intelligence and spirit, my feeling that we shared similar beliefs and interests, my knowledge that she was in effect a recent arrival in the area who might be looking for friends with similar interests, and her own demonstrated friendliness and trust toward me.

In mid-January, on the heels of some friendly interactions that had included a luncheon date in her hometown, I made a very awkwardly-presented suggestion that we get together again for dinner and movies at her place. It did not go well. I am sure that all the excruciating details will be discussed elsewhere. For now, suffice it to say that as a result of that proposal, and my attempt to explain it in a letter the next day—and in a very brief conversation and e-mail the following week—I felt that a terrible misunderstanding had developed. I suspected that Miss M may have come to the erroneous conclusion that my interest in her had been primarily sexual or romantic. I do not deny that I would have been open to the possibility of romance (and, indeed, a cornerstone of the evidence against me has been my frank admission that I had had an “untenable crush” on her), but it was hardly an exclusive goal, and in fact, given my romantic track record, I figured that the most likely outcome of a friendship with Miss M would be friendship and nothing more—and I was happy with that prospect and looked forward to it.

But now it seemed that that prospect of friendship had been derailed by an apparent misunderstanding, and I became overly distraught. I do not intend to “make excuses” for why I was so upset, but I think that not only was it based in my great esteem for her and what I believed to be our developing friendship, but that my emotional fragility was greatly amplified by a “perfect storm” of extraordinary events in my own life, including my own recent year-long ordeal with colon cancer and related treatments, as well as my mother’s simultaneous treatment for breast cancer. In an escalating series of e-mails, letters, and attempts at conversation over the next three weeks (January 16 to February 9), I sought to clarify the situation with Miss M, but only succeeded in making things worse. While I believe that my first communications were not remarkable, at some point, for a brief period, I crossed a line, and there was no longer a rational connection between my level of urgency and the true situation. At the same time, my behavior was never sexual, threatening, abusive, or violent. It was not until February 5, when I asked Miss M to step out for a walk to discuss the matter, that I realized how averse she was to engaging in a dialogue. In a scene that I have always deeply regretted, I essentially began begging her to talk to me. Failing to initiate a dialogue, that night I sent her a long e-mail which was the beginning of a rambling monologue conducted over the next three or four days via e-mail and hardcopy mailings of the same e-mails. I soon realized that I had gone too far, and admitted such in an e-mail sent in the early hours of Sunday, February 8. Horrified by my own behavior, I called Helena [one of Ryo’s two close friends at the office] that evening, practically in tears, and asked for her help.

Deeply ashamed of myself, and wanting to give Miss M some breathing room, I did not go to work the following Monday. When I did go to work on Tuesday, I discovered that Miss M’s work station had been moved to the other side of the office, and I found myself further distraught by this tangible and irrevocable mark of my disgraceful behavior. On Wednesday, I initiated a meeting with the Commissioner to discuss the situation. My recollection of that meeting is that he wished to avoid something called an “EEO investigation” and wanted to handle the situation within our department, and I now believe that he also mentioned that I should refrain from sending Miss M any more e-mails of a personal nature. The one concrete directive that I took from that meeting was that I was to “cc” him on any e-mails that I did send her.

In the following days, I came to realize that my relations had been damaged not only with Miss M, but also with Helena and Jayne, two people whom I held in the highest regard and whom I thought of as friends. Over the course of the next several weeks, I alternated between deep despondence about my ruined relations with my three coworkers and a hope that I could win back their esteem and trust. Jayne, at first, seemed to be the least affected by events, although she became increasingly critical of my work, which I attributed to lingering resentments. Helena was chilly toward me, but over the weeks started to seem more like her old self. Miss M often acted like a complete stranger, but at other times I drew encouragement from a seemingly genuine smile or a thoughtful response to a question I had posed to her.

Toward the end of March, Eric [an office friend] sent around a notice about an upcoming concert. As he had done on one or two prior occasions (when sending out announcements of cultural happenings in his neck of the woods), he addressed the e-mail to an exclusive group consisting only of Jayne, Helena, Miss M, and me. As far as I knew, Eric did not know anything about the troubled relationship between me and the three others. I was at once honored to be counted as part of such an exclusive and estimable club, and guilty that I was the reason it was essentially a lie. I also felt bad about the possibility that Miss M’s lingering uneasiness about me might hinder her full social integration into “our group.” Prior to the troubles, I had noticed that Miss M kept to herself and rarely, if ever, joined coworkers for lunch or walks. I attributed this to shyness and perhaps to financial difficulties, but assumed that with time it would change. But now I worried that I myself, because of my terrible behavior a few weeks earlier, was an obstacle to the development of Miss M’s social bonds with her coworkers. I therefore decided it was time to break the ice, and make a gesture that would demonstrate my belief that she could function as part of the same social group to which we both seemed to belong. I handed her a short note inviting her to the concert, and indicated that Eric was going, too. A couple of days later, she told me only “no thank you.” Sensing a chilliness in her response, I felt there was little more I could do than to extend an open offer of friendship that would be redeemable “in perpetuity.” I wrote a long letter to that effect, and handed it to her (March 30), preceding it with an e-mail in which I attempted to explain that the unusually long letter was not written in the same spirit as the rambling e-mails of early February.

Of course, it is now quite evident that she—and everyone else—felt that the communications of late March were indeed a continuation of the earlier behavior. To my mind, it was different because my earlier correspondence had been needy and desperate, begging for a dialogue to work out an apparent misunderstanding. Now I was proceeding from the observation that I had screwed things up so badly that all I could do was start over from scratch and let my coworkers know that I had nothing but positive feelings and was looking forward to building friendships.

It is now painfully evident that my way of thinking about friendship and social belonging does not make sense to most people. In the long term, I hope that I can improve my understanding of social interaction by working with experts and by practicing and growing outside the workplace. In the short term, I am confident that I can avoid any further troubles on the job by clearly identifying the issues and situations that have led to problems, and avoiding them in the workplace. I believe that these issues are the pursuit of friendship and social belonging. While it should seem odd for a person to swear off the possibility of making friends at work, I realize that the horribly painful events of the past six months demonstrate that in my case, it is entirely warranted. Essentially, my conscious pledge must be, and is, to maintain a polite and professional social distance from my coworkers, which I will balance with a commitment to improving my ties to family, friends, and community outside of work.

It is my hope that by recounting events honestly, and clearly expressing my awareness of the problems at issue, I can demonstrate that far from being out of control, I am an intelligent and sensitive person who truly wants to do well toward others and be respectful toward them, and that therefore I am fully qualified and capable to remain in my job and perform its duties.

Sincerely,

James Ryo Kiyan

Into the Fire

They boycotted his birthday; that is, some of them did. As the office festivities began that March day, the two women whom Ryo Kiyan regarded as his closest friends (not Miss M) walked out and did not return until the party was over.

Later, when the outside attorney hired by Sullivan County for this case interviewed employees in the Planning Division, he reported that the women were “afraid” of Ryo. In his brief, he went all out: “Kiyan made unwanted advances only toward [Miss M] and other female employees. His efforts were pervasive, continuous, unwanted, and in direct violation of directives from his supervisor and rejections by Miss M.”

Ryo felt sickened by the description. It wasn’t him. Was that really how they saw him? Unwanted advances? Toward his married coworkers? Or was it a matter of prosecutorial hyperbole? He decided that had to be the case.

The attorney, Mr. J. S., Esq., didn’t stop there. He leaned hard on the fact that Ryo’s friends at the office were almost exclusively women. In a way, it was true. Those three women were the ones who sat closest to him. They were friendly, he was shy. It all came about quite naturally, until his whole world fell apart. At that time, in his frustration over Miss M’s rejections, he turned to his “friends,” hoping they could intercede and plead his case with her. They, in turn, felt uncomfortable being drawn into the situation and advised him to back off. He might have, if only he could have gotten through to her, even once. He knew she wanted nothing to do with him. He promised never to bother her again, if they could have that one conversation and clear the air.

At the end of March he handed Miss M a handwritten note with the title “An Invitation to Walnut Mountain.” Ryo enjoyed hiking and knew she did, too. She had once told him she hiked quite a bit when she lived in California. He knew Walnut Mountain Park was not yet open for the season, but people went there anyway. He assumed the term “closed” meant only a lack of facilities, such as restrooms, and he promised to inquire about that. He had hiked at Walnut Mountain and enjoyed it. He thought she would, too. He suggested she bring her dog. He always thought it would be fun to hike with a “real” dog. The family canines tended to run small: Pomeranians and Pekingeses. They were not “real” dogs and often had to be carried on long walks.

Miss M saw the invitation as a threat. She could think of no good reason why he would want to take her to a closed park. Therefore, it had to be a bad reason. She became “upset and frightened.”

By her own description, she had been “upset and frightened” since the e-mails began in February. At the hearing, she testified:

I started carrying pepper spray all the time, carrying my cell phone in one hand and my pepper spray in another hand every time I entered and left work. I started always locking my door, locking both my inside door and my outside door to my apartment every time I left. I started to carry a knife . . . I began parking in the parking lot here at the Government Center so that I could always see Ryo’s vehicle when I pulled in, and then I would scan the lot and make sure he wasn’t in the parking lot when I got out of my car. . .

Ryo’s vehicle, a bright blue Honda Fit, would have been hard to miss. It was the first new car he ever owned, bought when he began working for Sullivan County. He never thought of it, or himself, as a menace.

One might reasonably wonder why he kept up the campaign when his attentions were clearly unwanted. It was a classic vicious circle. In his e-mails he pleaded with her for understanding. That was all he did: he pleaded, never threatened. Later he thought of it as pathetic. The more she rebuffed him the more he feared her negative opinion. He wanted her to understand that he was not a bad person, that he had only good thoughts of her. Likewise, the more he persisted, the more she feared him. And so they went round and round, only making things worse for themselves and each other.

Other Aspies have been there, too. In his book Atypical: Life with Asperger’s in 20⅓ Chapters, Jesse A. Saperstein writes: “My persistence is so overbearing that girls misconstrue it as stalking.”

Because she was single and attractive, it was logical that he should choose Miss M for his attentions. It was also unfortunate. Not only was she easily terrified, she also had strong family connections with various Sullivan County law enforcement personnel. Ryo despaired that his family had no local connections at all. And no attorneys but a second cousin in New York City whose position prevented him from offering advice. He had no support but that impotent family of his. Even his “friends” at the office sided with Miss M and told him to back off.

Which he did, or thought he did, but the juggernaut was rolling. It began with a summons to the county attorney’s office, where he was treated to a two-hour lecture. Rather, it seemed to him at the time, not so much a lecture as a tirade. At top volume. In the course of it, Ryo mentioned that he had Asperger’s syndrome. When asked if the condition had been formally diagnosed, he was forced to admit it hadn’t. He remembered the attorney saying that that “might make a difference.” As it turned out, it didn’t, for a peculiar reason we will come to in a later post.

In May 2009 the dam, which had been crumbling, broke. Ryo went to work as usual, suspecting nothing. Shortly afterward, two sheriff’s deputies appeared and marched him out of the office. “Escorted,” as his coworkers later said. It took two deputies, as though he might bolt. Or throw punches. Or whatever they were thinking. They made a point of not wearing uniforms but everyone knew who they were. No one missed what was happening.

From there, the county sent him home. They sentenced him to a month’s suspension without pay, to be followed by two months’ suspension with pay until the hearing. He was to have no further contact with any of his coworkers. It meant canceling out of the canoe trip that he had looked forward to so eagerly. Worst of all, it meant uncertainty.

In true Asperger fashion, he still didn’t comprehend the effect he had had on his coworkers. In spite of the trauma and humiliation, he wanted his job back. He talked of it constantly: “If I get my job back. . . .” For that, he needed someone to represent him at the hearing. He tried two attorneys, neither of whom was notably helpful. Still hoping, he went for broke. He hired Michael Sussman, a noted civil rights lawyer based in nearby Goshen. And broke he would be, when all was finished.

Out of the Frying Pan

A recent article in Cure magazine (Spring 2011) discusses the phenomenon of  “chemo brain,” that fuzzy and forgetful state that sometimes follows a course of chemotherapy. According to the article, most medical personnel have rejected the notion that chemo brain actually exists. Only those who suffer from it are convinced of its reality.

Ryo Kiyan couldn’t tell whether it was real or not. All he knew was that, after six months of chemotherapy, he felt different. Not forgetful. His brain worked all right. But things weren’t quite the same. It all felt indefinably—well, different. He had been through surgery, and went right back to work afterward, not wanting to jeopardize his job. Then followed the half year of chemo.

Every three weeks, for a week at a time, he reported to Catskill Regional Medical Center for the infusions. People warned him that he should arrange for transportation while being treated, that he would be so ill and groggy he shouldn’t drive himself. Rather than be dependent, he asked the oncologist to go easy on whatever sedative they added to lessen the discomfort. He wanted to stay awake both for driving and for work. His fellow staff members knew he was being treated, but only one, who had been through it himself, really understood the physical and emotional toll. Ryo had a double trauma when his mother, with whom he was living, developed cancer at the same time.

And so he “walked through the valley of the shadow of death” and, though weakened and changed, came out on the other side. He felt it was those changes, the emotional wreckage and possibly chemo brain, that contributed to what happened later. He described it as having “lost his way.” Added to that was the inherent nature of Asperger’s syndrome. 

At the time he finished his chemotherapy, in September of 2008, a new employee was added to the staff of the Sullivan County Division of Planning. She was Miss M—young, attractive, and single. Nearly all the other women in the office were married. She was also sophisticated, intelligent, and, he felt, on the same wavelength as he in many respects. Since her work station was next to his, they frequently engaged in small talk.

By January he felt recovered enough from the cancer, and had a solid job with a decent income, so that he wanted a place of his own. He knew Miss M had her own apartment and asked if she knew of any others in the area. She offered to introduce him to her landlord. Following that meeting, the two had lunch at a historic old inn, then afterward went to Miss M’s apartment. While she was engaged in another room, he passed the time looking at the books in her living room. To him, it seemed a normal and usual thing to do. He didn’t feel that he was prying, but later Miss M testified that it made her “uncomfortable.”

It’s quite possible that he was what made her uncomfortable. Many people have that reaction to Aspies and they couldn’t possibly tell you why. It’s just “something” that makes them “uncomfortable.” They would prefer that everybody be exactly like themselves. That attitude, in turn, makes the Aspie uncomfortable (yes, Aspies have feelings, too), and from there it can only go downhill. In Ryo’s case it went very much downhill.

He enjoyed that day with Miss M. He liked the old inn and suggested they explore other such places. He remembered her saying “Yes, definitely.” She remembered not wanting to agree but, since they worked together, felt it would be rude to refuse and so she gave a reluctant “yeah.” In his Aspie way he failed to pick up on her reluctance and thought she shared his enthusiasm.

An Aspie can be a lonely person and may assume that a friendship exists where there really isn’t one. He, thinking they had gotten along so well, suggested that he visit her apartment, cook dinner for her, and they could watch a movie together.

Miss M was stunned and could barely stammer. At the hearing later that year, much was made of the fact that when he approached her, she was alone in the copy room. The truth is that in choosing this venue he had no sinister intentions, but only felt it was a private conversation and he didn’t want to shout it out to the office. We do understand that the implication of sinister intentions was deliberate, intended to bolster the case against him.

Ryo walked away from that encounter but soon came back and apologized, saying he realized his suggestion had been “inappropriate.” He was, however, still interested in visiting old inns with her. He hadn’t caught on that this was merely a casual acquaintance and not the deepening friendship that he thought and hoped it was. He was also quite attracted to her and, in a straightforward Aspie way, told her he had a “wicked and untenable crush.” When that brought no response he tried again. He handed her a letter once more apologizing for his behavior and saying he was “not usually a terrible person to work with.” That time, she answered, “I don’t think you’re an awful person to work with. I just want to keep it professional.”

Keep what professional? He really didn’t understand what was going on with her. All he knew was that someone he liked, respected, and regarded as a friend suddenly turned a cold shoulder. He wanted to know why and he wanted to fix it. She, in turn, didn’t understand that he didn’t understand. She thought she had made it plain, but to him, it wasn’t. A mediation session at this point might have cleared things up, but it wasn’t the bureaucratic way. He did point out that he had Asperger’s, but because at that stage it was only a self-diagnosis, no one took him seriously. Even if they had believed him, they probably wouldn’t have known how that could affect his thinking and behavior. Most people don’t, which is the reason for this blog. 

A few days later he tried e-mailing her:

I didn’t finish my apology on Friday. I just want you to know that I really, really, REALLY have come to my senses! I see now that my very silly behavior was the result of various personal issues that I have no business troubling you with.

Again she did not respond. He still wanted to talk things over, to apologize and get her to understand that he was an honorable person with honorable intentions. Only much later, when it was all over, did he come across an article that gave him some enlightenment as to what she felt. The article explained why such relentless pursuit can be frightening to a woman. Gavin de Becker makes that point in his book The Gift of Fear. De Becker says that while a man can worry that women will make fun of him, for women the fear is of violent assault and rape. Miss M had no way of being assured that Ryo was a gentle, peace-loving Aspie who only wanted a friend. There again, a mediation session would have helped both of them. Unfortunately, the powers that be chose another route.