Autism Vox

Riding the Trains, Reading the Signs

by Kristina Chew, PhD on April 26th, 2007

Today I took the train to work, or rather three trains, New Jersey Transit, the Light Rail, and the PATH train: The black car needed some repairs; Jim and I dropped it off and then both took the train to work. Jim works in Manhattan and stays on the same train line all the way in, but things were a little more complicated for me (which is one reason that I drive—-another is because nothing beats having a car when the school calls to tell you that one’s child is sick and must be picked up immediately……). I had to catch three trains, and make my way through four different train stations: The station in the same town as the place where my car was getting fixed; Newark Penn Station; Newark Broad Street Station; and the PATH station in Journal Square, Jersey City.

Jim thinks best when he is in motion and has an immediate sense of what train line goes where and what transfer points to different combinations of trains will meet up. I am somewhat less fluent in these matters. On our weekend trips to New York with Charlie, I tend to leave the transportation arrangements to Jim—-and here I was today with a trip involving a couple of rides on different types of trains to different locations. I managed the circuit of rides fine in the morning; on my journey back to pick up the car before 6pm, one small misstep resulted in me almost not making it back in time.

I had hurried to catch the PATH train in Jersey City’s Journal Square, made it to Newark Penn Station, and went in search of the light rail, which we rarely ride. I was hurrying, and hurried onto the first light rail train I sighted, only to realize after two stops that we were going in the wrong direction. I got off, found the light rail that was headed in the opposite direction, and rode it back, but my efforts to find the train going back to Newark Broad Street station kept taking me in the wrong direction. I stepped onto one train, thought to ask a woman where it went, and it did not not go where I wanted). As I hurriedly walked off something overwhelming swept into me and do I go back upstairs, do I cross the tracks, there’s a gate across the tracks, do I just get on this train over here, I am not going to get to the repair shop in time, where was the sign I should have read, I am not going to make it, this is how Charlie feels when he does not know what to do, everything seemed more vivid. And, in the midst of this clutter of thoughts, I want the car. Now.

And thinking of Charlie, I sighted a transit officer and started to ask questions. That required me to slow down and think about what I was asking—sort of like Charlie asking for a break?—–and, after hurrying up the stairs and down to another platform as directed, I turned to other commuters and asked more questions. I got on the right light rail and then a New Jersey Transit train and soon I was picking up our car.

I thought of Charlie in anxiety mode: Do so many thoughts collide and clamber for space and listening room at such moments, so that one thought seeps into the next? I though of my wanting nothing more than the goal of the whole journey, the car—-and I thought of how Charlie, in the middle of an anxiety moment, often talks about the one thing that he most wants, as if for a moment of magical thinking there is the belief that thinking will make it so.

I also thought about how, of late on our walks, Charlie has been pausing at street and signs and twisting his neck to look at them for several seconds, and then look again at the ground and on we go. It would probably be well for me to follow his example and stop and see the signs, so I can know for sure where I am going.

You can learn a lot by hanging around Charlie.

Share This

Related Stories

Speaking about Autism on Revolution Health: Bloggers & Doctors
Autistic Child Area
Lead Found in Thomas the Train Toys: Just a Coincidence?
Boys and Subways
Horses Are For Riding

POSTED IN: Charlisms, New Jersey, Parenting, Psychology