Tis the season for thanksgiving. With the holidays approaching quickly, I've been more introspective.
I've been thinking about how good my life is, even though I'm stressed about papers, grades, applying to the journalism school and about a million other things, just like any other college student. So when reading "The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time," I was constantly considering what it would be like to be Christopher, aged 15 years, 3 months and 2 days as he introduces himself.
He has autism. Christopher cannot stand people touching him. He is frightened by strangers. He counts and solves math problems when he is scared or overwhelmed. His teacher has to draw him pictures of people's faces with different emotions so he can understand what they are thinking, but at the same time he can comprehend a puzzle that stumps even Ph.D.s.
He is honest, at times brutally so. He is also wise, coming up with opinions about things that people normally wouldn't question, like why people like him have "special needs." According to Christopher, everyone has special needs, even his father.
With that statement, I had to wonder what my special needs are. Maybe it's that I refuse to eat onions-a trait that I share with Christopher's dad. Or is it how I hate change? Perhaps each of us is made up of these "special needs." They make us who we are.
It's cliché to talk about putting yourself in someone else's shoes, when you obviously can't. It's impossible for me to even begin to understand what someone like Christopher would be going through in everyday life. There are too many differences.
For Christopher would have been pretty infeasible to go to a university like UW-Madison. The amount of people-in lectures, on the street, in a dorm-could be terrifyingly overwhelming. Getting along with other students would forever be a challenge, as he might be confused about jokes complicated relationships. Christopher only knows three jokes. He talks about people being teachers, or parents or having sex, but doesn't seem to understand these on a deeper level.
Living alone would probably never happen for Christopher. Neither would traveling or having kids.
It's interesting to try to understand what life would be like if I were born with a mental handicap. It's impossible to truly comprehend it all, but still valuable. How are we to empathize with people if we don't even attempt to understand them?
"The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time" helped me understand someone else. I was lost in Christopher's world and the way his brain worked. This is the true value of literature-allowing readers to understand people different from them.
