Our identities control our lives. But do we control our identity? In some aspects, yes. Others are assigned to us at birth or by society later in life. In my youth, Asperger’s Syndrome had been assigned as part of my identity.
The umbrella of autism spectrum disorder has since absorbed Asperger’s Syndrome. It is a developmental disorder that impairs the ability to communicate with and understand people. Although this disorder has other aspects, communication has been the most substantial impediment to advancing my career and social life.

Before I tell you some stories that will provide insight into the barriers created by autism, I must express that I am not resentful of the disorder. Being autistic has provided me with some strengths as well as vulnerabilities. And frankly, I wouldn’t know life any other way.

My first job has many examples of difficulties I experience. I was a young and naïve cashier at a local fast-food restaurant. People waited en masse in the lobby for their orders to be ready. My clothes were heavier than when I started by sponging the grease from the air. The sizzling of hamburgers and the fryer was as loud as the crowd’s bluster. A man approached the register I was working. He ordered a double cheeseburger, fries, and a large Diet Coke. After ordering the Diet Coke, he said, “I’m trying to watch my figure.” At this point, I informed him that the meal he had ordered would create more calories than the daily recommendation by health institutions. He demanded to see a manager.

After the manager arrived, the man demanded that I be fired for calling him “fat.” I took a moment to recall the conversation while the manager apologized. I defended myself, saying, “No, I didn’t. You mentioned you were trying to watch your weight…” The manager cut me off and told me to wait by the office.

This incident was not the first criticism of my customer service skills, as told by the manager. However, it was the first one that I had been aware of. I did get to keep working there; only I was sequestered to the fryer.

Working the fryer was decent. I worked around people and was part of a process. I didn’t have to talk to anyone and just worked. I didn’t particularly enjoy being covered in grease, but I still had a job.

One day I was greatly burdened by the noise and distracted by my thoughts. I had just signed up to join the military after I graduated high school. The fryer timer went off, which I did not hear over all the other noise. The manager walks up to the fryer and dumps the burning onion rings directly into the trashcan, melting the bag. “How do you expect to make it in the Air Force if you can’t cook onion rings?” he asked me at a level the whole restaurant heard. “Not cook onion rings,” I replied in my normal voice. He evidently took offense and then sent me home.

Surprisingly, I still had a job. The next time I decided to check the schedule, I was assigned a different position. This position required an individual not to be seen or heard, stocking and cleaning.

I did get an explanation of why I still had a job. It was provided to me by an assistant manager. He and I were lifting heavy boxes into the basement cooler. At length, I talked to him about how excited I was to work with aircraft, my favorite planes, and how I would make a career out of airplanes. He interrupted my diatribe about aircraft to ask me, “Do you know why you haven’t been fired yet?” I did not and told him so. “Because [the managers] do not want to feel guilty for firing a [expletive].” He replied. I didn’t know how to respond, so I remained silent.

These stories take place over a year at one job I held. Nobody told me what I was doing wrong. I just knew that I did something to upset people. Being used to this type of treatment, I never thought to ask. It is just how life was for me.

Eventually, I did find a career where I belonged. I have a solid mechanical aptitude and mastered every system on an aircraft. I started as an avionics technician and now know an aircraft’s mechanical, hydraulic, pneumatic, fuel, and electrical systems. I moved from technician to research and development all because of my intense focus and interest in the field.

In short, being autistic is a gift and a bane for me. The experience of living on the autism spectrum is different for everyone, and I cannot speak for every autistic person. My experience has pushed me into what I do best, and I could not have done it without the many mentors I have had. My mentors’ understanding and patience directly correlate to my success in life. And sometimes, that’s all it takes; patience, understanding, and a little direction to change someone’s life for the better. So I ask, do not immediately dismiss autistic individuals. All anyone needs to grow and succeed is the right opportunity, environment, and mentorship.