Ever wonder where some of our idioms come from? I often do. So I took a second to give the term “red flag” some context in my head. Turns out, long before it was an extremely annoying internet meme about relationships, red flags were part of the International Code of Signals (and adopted from the British Royal Navy) indicating that a ship was carrying or discharging something dangerous.
So it then evolved to other warnings, like high wave conditions on the ocean.
In NASCAR, a red flag means the race has to come to a halt immediately.
Also interesting that socialism, communism, Marxism – all adopt a red flag. Go figure.
Why is that interesting? Well, it means red flags transcend languages, mediums, and situations. It always means danger. Not just, oh, that’s something interesting.
It means imminent destructive and lethal danger.
So. Given that context, autism red flags are pretty serious. We like to downplay them (or my favorite term, whitewash) and call them just concerns, or quirks, delays, or even unusual advanced behavior, but they all mean the same thing.
Danger. I’m carrying something dangerous or explosive.
This is kind of important. Like really important.
I had an exchange with a well-meaning stranger online on Instagram, which…I don’t like to do. Aside from the amazing exchange of ideas one gets here on Substack, usually I find regular social media interaction to be a minefield that I just don’t like to take the trouble to navigate.
But I couldn’t help myself one day, and commented on the obvious red flag behaviors of a public figure, and was chastised by a stranger that pointing things out like that wasn’t helpful. That “all autism behaviors in small children can also be normal.”
Whoa.
OK, so we don’t want to get in the habit of saying every child who is hyperactive is on the spectrum. That’s obviously ridiculous.
But.
Hyperactive. Stereotypical movements. Obvious sensory sensitivities and discomfort in certain scenarios. Complete disregard for social boundaries. Among, I don’t know, a spectrum of other behaviors.
Spectrum doesn’t mean a scale, it means a collection of behaviors or concerns. You’re not low on the spectrum or high. You have a collection of behaviors that make it more or less difficult to exist in the neurotypical world.
People often think lack of speech or no eye contact are the hallmarks of autism. And they can be. But they are absolutely not universal. (One of my boys has intense eye contact. Like the kind that makes people think he’s reading your soul. I missed some of his red flags because, oh, he’s just being a kid! He says WORDS! And he looks at you!)
It seems that we’ve become experts at ignoring warnings. In fact, many of our acronymed governmental agencies have made it their mission to be professional warning ignorers. Like the captain of the Titanic. Don’t worry people, that’s not an iceberg. And even if it was, we’re in a safe and effective unsinkable vessel. Don’t panic.
But once you start seeing the red flags, you can’t stop seeing them. They are everywhere. Just like the signs of widespread vaccine damage in adults, which, once you start noticing, you wish you didn’t, because It. Is. Everywhere.
And it sucks. It’s not like I enjoy observing all the kids in the neighborhood, and pinpointing the ones that have neurological damage that their parents are scratching their heads at.
It’s actually quite horrific.
I had a conversation with my daughter several weeks ago where she told me about a girl in one of her classes who now claims to be on the autism spectrum. My daughter was borderline offended by this girl’s declaration.
Why is that? I asked.
Because she’s not autistic, she says.
And how do you know? I ask. Quite amused by this conversation.
I can’t explain it. It’s a feeling in my stomach. I know if someone is autistic even if they don’t say so. And she is not.
That’s not to say that her gut intuition is always right. But she’s certainly lived through some not-so-pretty times as an autism sibling that give her some authority.
The point is, you start seeing it. You can’t unsee it. You wish you couldn’t see it. You wish you could just dismiss it as perfectly normal.
So is it any wonder so many people do?
I just finished reading the Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass, An American Slave, and oh my gosh YES I am going to use the words of that phenomenal and brilliant human being to sum up my feelings. Do not send the Thought Police or the Racial Police to get me.
There is a moment where Frederick Douglass bemoaned the fact that he had learned to read.
“…I would at times feel that learning to read had been a curse rather than a blessing. It had given me a view of my wretched condition, without the remedy. It opened my eyes to the horrible pit, but to no ladder upon which to get out. In moments of agony, I envied my fellow slaves for their stupidity. I have often wished myself a beast. I preferred the condition of the meanest reptile to my own. Any thing, no matter what, to get rid of thinking!”
The Thinking. I really blame people for not doing The Thinking. Or for not seeing the red flags.
But once you wake up, once you SEE, it’s not like a gleeful thing. It’s not a smug thing. It’s incredibly sad. It’s desperate. And while it’s hard to convince people to see it, it’s also hard to convince yourself to try to convince others. It often doesn’t feel like a service. Why would I want you to know you’re in a pit if you’re happier not knowing?
Unless there’s a ladder out.
And in the autism world, so many smart people are working on that ladder.
As Dr. Toby Rogers always says, blessings to the warriors: like the medical professionals who defy what they’re programmed to believe and dig.
And to everyone going through the painful process of The Thinking. You’re not alone.
(More actual story-telling next time.)