The blossoming of Jessy Park
(Filed: 31/05/2002)
 

Attitudes to autistic children have changed dramatically in the past 40 years, reports Charlotte Moore
 

In 1967, Clara Claiborne Park published The Siege, an account of the first eight years of her autistic daughter Jessy's life. Thirty-five years later, she has published Exiting Nirvana, which follows Jessy into her forties.

Jessy's is a success story. Once a mute, withdrawn child, she now works in an office and leads a semi-independent life in Williamstown, Massachusetts; she is also an extremely gifted artist. Her richly coloured, exquisitely detailed paintings, typically of buildings, have achieved considerable critical acclaim. "Perceptions of autism couldn't have changed more completely since Jessy's childhood," says Park, now aged 78.

"Forty years ago, the focus was almost exclusively psychoanalytic. There were a couple of lone voices raising questions about the biological aspects, but overall the view was, 'There's nothing wrong with these children. They've been damaged by parental rejection.'

"Effective treatment for autism could begin only once the psychoanalytic approach was abandoned. It wasn't possible to develop educational interventions while autism was blamed on the mythical 'refrigerator mother' - the unfeeling, over-intellectual career woman.

"It's my opinion that psychoanalysis has nothing whatever to offer autistics. I mean. . . the 'talking treatment' for children with no language. I know one case, a boy of 12 who didn't speak - the analyst played chess with him for a year and a half. Psychoanalysts don't know beans about special education. They're a bunch of failed poets. They work with symbols. And autistic people don't understand symbols. To them, a tree is a tree."

Park was never lured into the belief that she was a "refrigerator mother". "You know, I was so fortunate that Jessy was my fourth. We already had three beautiful, smart children who had never given us any trouble. So, no, I knew it wasn't our fault. And, luckily, we lived in a small college town, not Boston or New York where everyone was so into therapy. So we weren't harmed - the wasted time was the most serious thing.

"But to be told that you've damaged your child, but don't blame yourself, it's because of some trauma in your own childhood - it's like being told you've thrown acid in your child's face, but don't worry, it's not your fault."

Park says there have been huge developments in educational interventions in recent years, but, she believes, if Jessy had her time again, "I can't imagine she'd have got further than she has.

"I tried to figure out a lot of the special educational techniques for myself, and we were enormously helped by the 'Jessy girls', students who lived with us for periods of weeks or months, who helped out in exchange for board and lodging.

"From when Jessy was four until her mid-thirties, we must have had at least 50 young people, and only two weren't satisfactory. These girls played with Jessy, sang, joked, worked with her. I ran out of steam sometimes, but they had the enthusiasm of youth. Many still enrich Jessy's life with presents, visits and letters."

Jessy's autism hasn't bothered Park's other three children. "They're all very fond of Jessy - she's part of their lives. By the time she was born, they'd all passed from the time when home was the centre of their lives. Because she was little, they could play with her - push her on the swing and so on. But we were careful not to use them as babysitters.

"There were painful times. After one awful day of tantrums, Rachel, who's the gentlest of all, said: 'She ought to be sent away.' But she never brought it up again."

Park has never felt restricted by Jessy - despite the demands on her time. "When Paul, my son, was 16, he said, 'If you hadn't had Jessy no one would have heard of you, so don't complain.' "

There was no universal public education for the handicapped until 1973, so Jessy was at home most of the time. "I think David, my husband, sometimes didn't get enough attention, but we didn't want boarding school for her. We never contemplated that somebody else could do it better. Autism either breaks a marriage or strengthens it."

In Exiting Nirvana, Park reveals that she finds it extraordinary to see how Jessy is always moving forward. "An enormous amount of her intellectual and social progress happened in her teens or later, and she's still learning now, at the age of 44. Her painting goes in leaps and bounds.

"She's lost her former interest in higher maths, but her cheque book is important. She's not much interested in fame as a painter, but she does like the cheques."

Jessy didn't read until she was 13, and still reads very little fiction, but Park took her to see Harry Potter. "She was interested in the Quidditch game, point-scoring being a big thing for her. I left the book lying around, and she's looking into it; I reckon she'll understand about 10 per cent.

"She reads medical dictionaries. The other day she read something in a Harvard journal about sleep problems, and a long, long treatise on the common cold - one of her obsessions. She'll tell me about a cold I had 20 years ago. We try to keep our colds secret, because it's so tedious. She never has colds herself."

Jessy is becoming increasingly independent; three years ago, Park introduced the idea of her staying alone in the house for one night. This was gradually extended. "Last spring, we went to Italy for 10 days, then later Prague for two weeks - it went splendidly. She had the option of staying with Paul, who lives nearby but she chose to stay alone. She does have the concept of loneliness, but she's not afraid of intruders or the dark."

Jessy only knew the word "autism", after watching the film Rain Man. "She said, 'He's like me only I'm better.' She doesn't see herself as disabled."

Park believes that Jessy's greatest achievement is that she carries out a job - in a university post room. "For an autistic person," she says, "it's a more significant achievement than the painting or the maths." This gives her hope for Jessy's future.

"Jessy can plan ahead but she can't feel ahead. When our cats died, Jessy didn't mourn them, and she won't mourn me, either. We've found that the world is pretty nice to her - I think she'll be fine."

Exiting Nirvana by Clara Claiborne Park (Aurum Press) is available for £12.99, plus £1.99 p&p. To order please call Telegraph Books Direct on 0870 155 7222

 

 

	1 May 2002: Understanding autism: I pray the Government will support us
	30 April 2002: 'My boys are everything . . . the right help is crucial'
	30 April 2002: Understanding autism: can MMR damage your baby?
	29 April 2002: Understanding autism: breaking out of the bubble
	31 October 2001: How Sammy joined our world

 

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