I guess my first memory or introduction of the word, spectrum, was by my mom – encouraging me to embrace color. Any color. ALL colors. A lesson that went well beyond her passion for visual art. My dad very much in alignment – both in the context of humanity, as well as through two of his own passions – literature and culture. Cut to years of science class, where the word spectrum was used to define the infinite amount of light waves and/or sound waves that could be quantified in some way – which, in and of itself, was conflicting to my brain. Definitely resonated more with colors on a canvas. 😉 And then, at around 35 years old, it became clear that my nephew was on the Autism Spectrum. Fortunately for him, my sister was unwavering in her pursuit of finding out why certain ‘normal’ indicators of child development were not presenting – even at the age of 1 1/2. And so began the quest to understand what spectrum meant in that regard. How do you identify it? Quantify it? If he’s on ‘the spectrum’, then who else is? Am I? Are you? I mean – if ANY human is considered to be on ANY spectrum – then – as a race – wouldn’t we ALL be on it?
Perhaps it’s far more comfortable to think that only certain types of people are on certain spectrums. Perhaps it’s easier to self-identify by what spectrums we’re NOT on. It’s almost as if the word has come to mean something that indicates ‘other’. ‘Not me.’ ‘That’s someone else’s journey, not mine.’ And yet – by definition – it is inclusive of ALL.
My nephew’s spectrum diagnosis has played a very eye-opening role in my overall perspective on the subject. It has made me question where I fall on that spectrum. On any spectrum, for that matter. My brain isn’t perfect. I excel at certain things, am more challenged by others. Add to that I’m gay. I also happen to identify as male. Amazingly, this is becoming more accepted in general – at least in my world – and as it should be – but that was not the norm for most of my 45 years. Regardless – what if I was gay, a male, but identified as female? What if I was a male who identified as female and was straight? For that matter – what if I was straight and also identified as male? For that I spent too long wishing. And only because of the culture I grew up in – of which I had no choice. We’ve done better as a race in the past – I try to be hopeful that we can do so again in the future.
But while I’m on the subject – why not talk about the ‘spectrum’ of sexuality and sexual identity? I mean, c’mon – we all know what we like and who we are. We don’t choose it. It’s innate. It’s hard wired. There’s a fluidity to it. Our truest nature. Our innermost self. It’s completely unique to each of us – whether we feel free enough to outwardly admit it or not. And I’d venture that there isn’t one other person on earth – maybe ever in its’ history – who identifies and is attracted to others EXACTLY as you identify and are attracted to others.
Sounds like a spectrum to me.
Diseases, cancers, addictions – all have a spectrum of both diagnosable marks, as well as the humans who endure them. We’re all on a spectrum of wealth – or poverty – depending on our viewpoint. Is the glass ever EXACTLY half full or half empty for any one of us at the exact same moment? Spectrums of race, culture, class, sexuality – ability or disablity in any given sector – athleticism, intellect, compassion, humor, talent, LOVE.
Grief is a spectrum.
For those of us who have experienced profound grief, I think it goes without saying that on any given day, at any given moment – no matter the distance time has allowed – nor the possible presence of current love or fulfillment – we will always be on the grief spectrum. It starts by completely consuming you – even consuming the very air you fight to breathe. And from that moment on, you are forever changed – the grief spectrum doesn’t invite you. It doesn’t care who you are or what you look like. And though you’ve always know it exists, felt compassion for those who were on it – you never thought it would play such an enormous role in how you self identify – forever now – because the grief spectrum never lets you go. There can be great value to being apart of the grief spectrum though. For where there is profound grief, there was – is – profound love. And if profound love is the common denominator for everyone on the grief spectrum – well then – we’re in pretty incredible company there, aren’t we?
I guess if there is anything to be cautious of – I would think it’s grieving that a loved one finds themselves on any certain spectrum that we don’t understand. Perhaps that is the very reason we are introduced to them through those we love the most. It gives us the opportunity to engage, listen and try to comprehend – or the opportunity to shut down – to stubbornly refuse our own evolution.
I had no idea how the Autism Spectrum would end up gifting my life, my perspective – and I think using the word spectrum to classify this beautifully unique sect of the human race, might be the best, most loving way to do so. There is no ‘disability’. And – from my viewpoint – no ‘disorder’ either. I’m very grateful to my nephew, Faustin, for teaching me that. And for making me reflect on where I fall on HIS spectrum. Cause I am on it. And so are you.
And you’re on my spectrum. And I’m on yours. It doesn’t matter who we are, where we’re from, how we identify or what we’ve accomplished. We’re one race. We all face challenges. Some more challenging than others. Or are they? With each passing day, passing experience – any value in comparison continues to diminish. Either way – I believe there’s only one human spectrum.
And we’re all on it.