Dawn Prince-Hughes, 2004
"In so many ways, large and small, I saw the best and worst of
myself in the gorillas. But they had
accomplished what I had not: the ability to remain open and communicate
with others of their kind in a way that made them feel whole."
Dawn Prince-Hughes’ unusual story is like a brief window into a world
few people ever see. Diagnosed at age thirty-six with Asperger’s
Syndrome, a type of autism, Prince-Hughes looks back as she writes and
explores the factors that enabled her to achieve success despite missing
what she considers a key piece of the puzzle: the label that finally
validated her difficulties with human interaction. Other unusual
characteristics associated with Asperger’s include an extreme
sensitivity to substances or noises that stimulate the senses.
Prince-Hughes is quick to point out that her form of Asperger’s is
merely one point on a "spectrum" of autistic behavior. One
reason she was not labeled for so long was because her intelligence and
focusing abilities allowed her to "pass" in regular society. Her
inner turmoil and inability to have friends, however, haunted her.
I teach in a school where the number of students diagnosed with
Asperger’s has dramatically increased, due in part to a growing
familiarity with the various forms of the syndrome. Formerly lumped in
with the "emotionally disturbed" students or the more severe
autistic classes, these students are now receiving the assistance that
Prince-Hughes did not have until she met her partner, Tara. The two women
found a common bond in academia, and Tara was able to interpret the public
social interactions they shared for her, allowing Prince-Hughes to
increase the frequency of her socially appropriate behavior and pursue an
advanced degree.
Long before Tara, however, Prince-Hughes began her own self-study of
behavior, inspired by an unusual source: gorillas. Songs of the Gorilla
Nation is about raising awareness with a dual purpose. Because they saved
her emotionally and taught her so much, Prince-Hughes is as dedicated to
promoting understanding about the complex and gentle animals as she is
about generating sensitivity toward people with autism.
Her life before meeting the Western Lowland gorilla family at the
Seattle Zoo is painfully described in the initial chapters of the book,
interspersed with glimpses of the future. She gives brief examples of her
experiences as a child and adolescent, then relates them to either her
gorilla experiences or Asperger’s information. After a torturing and
lonely journey through public education, Prince-Hughes dropped out of high
school at the age of sixteen. She left her eccentric but bewildered and
understanding parents behind and spent many years restlessly wandering,
often homeless. Even in the erotically charged environment of 1980s
Seattle, however, Prince-Hughes was unable to connect with humans. Her
most successful job at this time, erotic dancing, was an unexpected but
appropriate metaphor for her autism. She was able to shut out the
observers and disappear into the pounding music, a pleasant source of
stimulus for her. Unfortunately, the same phenomenon happened to
Prince-Hughes, as it does other autistic people, when she was in an
unfamiliar situation. She still experiences a form of this "tunnel
vision," a narrowing of focus and inability to verbally communicate
with the outside world.
On her initial visit to the Seattle Zoo, she found a corner of the zoo
that was quiet and watched in wonder as gorillas sat in silence. Their
subtle movements and observant stillness were easy for her to identify
with. The gorillas spoke a different language than humans, but so did
Prince-Hughes. Their way of communicating and loving and trusting made
more sense to her than the loud and often cruel behavior of humans.
Slowly, Prince-Hughes began an individualized program of study at a
local school that allowed her to enter an animal studies program with few
traditional classes. Instead, she found mentors at the zoo and earned a
job working with the gorillas and other animals. Sometimes her obsessive
autistic mannerisms proved to be an asset; she was one of the zoo’s best
observers and recorders of animal behavior. Eventually, she was allowed to
give the gorillas treats. While lining berries up at the edge of the bars
sectioning off the habitat, she and the gorilla she was feeding
accidentally brushed fingers. The gorilla remained still and so did
Prince-Hughes. For the first time, she was able to stare into someone’s
eyes, to touch another being. This point of connection is the very thing
that is missing for so many autistic people.
Over time, her fascination with the gorillas drove her to find ways
around her autistic behaviors. She writes, "The very thing that urged
me forward seemed to increase my fear; I had found peace with the gorillas
and wanted to make them my life, but to do so I would have to give up the
exclusive shelter they offered and work with people toward
compromise." She studied how the gorillas communicated and modeled
her own necessary social interactions with people after them. She learned
to consciously use the facial expressions, such as smiling, and moving her
eyebrows, that come naturally to most people and are a basic component of
communication.
The close knit family and their traditions allowed Prince-Hughes to
search within herself for the means to gain closeness to other beings. Her
story is both sad and hopeful. The pain she experienced while ostracized
from society and her continuing struggle with human relationships is
difficult to witness, but her most recent successes, both personally and
professionally, are instrumental in changing the perception of two
unlikely adversaries. The gorillas as well as other autistic people will
greatly benefit from the fascinating story that Prince-Hughes offers us in
Songs of the Gorilla Nation.
Rebecca James divides her time between Rehoboth Beach and Allentown,
Pennsylvania where she teaches high school English.