In my never-ending quest to find a few safe places to hang out that don’t include my house, I decided to consider (duh!) the library. I used to volunteer there packaging books for inter-library loans, and I left mainly because I was only beginning to understand the impact of autism on my body and soul. When I left, I told the staff I was leaving to take care of my health, and they all signed a really beautiful card to wish me well. Sigh. These kinds of things mean a lot to me. So the people there are very nice and the place feels very safe.
However, I haven’t been back there since. My resistance stems mainly from the fact that they used to know me as this still somewhat passable NT-looking person, and now I’m not. I feel like I’d be walking into an old picture and getting confused about how to navigate.
So, last night, I finally realized (duh!) that I could send them an email and create a new picture. Here’s the note I sent them today via their website:
“Hi—
You might remember me. I used to volunteer at the library packaging ILLs. I’m writing to let you know how I am so that I can get the services that I need at the library.
In the past year and a half, I have been diagnosed with a number of disabilities. I am autistic with extreme auditory and other sensory sensitivities, so much so that I usually have to block sound when I am out in public. When I come into the library, I will probably be wearing a blue noise-blocking headset, a set of earplugs, or both.
Autism is a very inconsistent condition. Sometimes, I’m able to talk for a short time without a lot of effort. At other times, a short conversation is so difficult that it will leave me with severe body aches for days. There may be some days that all I can do is smile and wave, and a smile and wave in return is the perfect response. I would ask that, when I come to the library, you take my lead regarding how I communicate. When I go about my life in public and need something specific, I generally play it safe and communicate in writing. I am looking into assistive communication technology, so I may have an iPad or some other interesting device with me. It’s a work in progress. 
Please remember that the changes you will see are superficial. I am still the same person I ever was. I just can’t navigate in typical ways anymore.
I would appreciate it if you would confirm receipt of this note, and especially if you would share it with the staff.
Many thanks, and all the best to everyone,
Rachel Cohen-Rottenberg”
Let’s see what happens, shall we?
© 2010 by Rachel Cohen-Rottenberg
i think it’s a great step.
i have a lot of ongoing (sometimes daily) questions about when i need to adapt to the world and when i need to ask for accommodation. i think it can be difficult, sometimes, to sort it through. it’s good to see examples of asking for reasonable accommodation—again: thanks. it’s courageous. 
Wow. Check out the response I got from one of the staff members at the library:
“Rachel,
We do remember you fondly, and we’ve wondered how you’re doing. These are
difficult challenges! Thank you so much for letting us know what’s up with
you; it will make communication easier on both sides when you come to the
library. I will forward this message to all staff and will look forward to
seeing you again at the library when you are ready to be here.”
This is me smiling:
Self-advocacy rocks!
I love how you spelled it out so clearly, and I love how they responded.
Mazel Tov!
Yay! Seriously, you’re a hero to me, and a wonderful role model for me as I embark on my own tentative forays into self-advocacy.
I LOVE this:
“Please remember that the changes you will see are superficial. I am still the same person I ever was. I just can’t navigate in typical ways anymore.”
I just “came out” about my autism on Facebook. I don’t want to have to hide it or hint about it anymore, and many of my FB friends already know. Would it be okay with you if I posted a link to your blog on Facebook? I wouldn’t want to do it without your consent.
Rina, yes, please post a link, and friend me too, if you like. I post a link on my FB page to every blog post I write so that my friends know when to look for a new one.
Whatever happened to “silence in the library”?
You shouldn’t have to engage in conversation unless you want to.
BTW: I love how they responded.
Silence in the library? I think it went out with penny loafers. I miss them both.
Another update! Here’s an email I received this morning from another staff member at the library:
“Hi Rachel,
Thanks for updating us on your condition. Sorry to hear about your troubles. We know you are still the wonderful person that volunteered so happily and efficiently for us. It sounds like you are on a good path… I look forward to seeing you and will follow your queues for interaction. Please let us know if we can help in any way.”
Hey, you know, fellow autists, if any of you are looking to make changes in your lives, there’s a great library where I live, some nice thrift stores, and a highly visual autistic blogger looking for some more autistic friends she can see with her glasses on.
I am very proud of you and happy for you!
(yay!!!!)
Wow! This is a post that will be a how-to manual for a lot of us. I think I would expect to find some understanding people at the library–first, because I love books, but also because, when I was in high school and trying to be invisible, the public library (not the one at school) was my favorite hiding place on free periods or lunch hours. When I think about it now, I wonder how many other people were hiding out there when I was. If I did live near you, and it was one of your good days, and you had told me all this in person, and we had decided to celebrate by having lunch on the town, I would have asked you to pick the restaurant and waited for you to order and then said “I’ll have whatever she’s having!”
I sure do wish you lived nearby, Liz. I have a feeling we’d get along great!