Recently, a colleague dropped on my desk a book of poetry written by Rebecca Foust, ’82. The titular poem, “Dark Card,” was originally published in Margie in 2007 and was nominated for the 2008 Pushcart Prize. Here is an excerpt:
When they look at my son like that
at the grocery store check out
or at school assemblies,
I wait for the right moment, till they move
through laughter, raised eyebrows,
clamped lips
—but before fear. Then I switch gears,
go into my tap dance-and-shuffle routine.
Yes, he’s different, all kids are different, him
just a little bit more—oh, he’s knocked down
the applesauce pyramid? So sorry, here,
my sleeves conceal napkins for messes like this,
and I can make them disappear. But before I do,
make sure you marvel at how the jars
made an algorithm when he pulled that one free.
Becky Foust is not only a gifted writer, she is also the mother of a son who has Asperger’s syndrome. She can convey more about the challenges autism presents in two stanzas than I can in the length of this column. You can practically see the pain poking through her words; the resignation, the empathy. And lurking in the subtext, something else—resolve.
Thanks to recent progress, there is reason to be hopeful that better treatments for autism are on the way. Researchers are beginning to unravel the biological origins of a disorder that manifests in varying degrees of social, verbal and behavioral impairments. As understanding grows, a path toward a cure becomes at least dimly visible. You can read about some of those advances in our cover story.
I had never encountered a person with autism until I moved to California 12 years ago. My first experience was through a little boy I had come to know who exhibited “stimming” behavior, repeatedly tapping a fist against his forehead. Conversation was difficult for him; he avoided eye contact, and often spoke in non sequiturs or as if reading from a script. He never spontaneously offered a hug, or uttered an endearment, or responded to affection in a typically human way. You can imagine how difficult that is for his parents to bear. And beyond the day-to-day struggles, people who love children with autism shoulder the weight of a worrisome future, not knowing what’s in store for these boys and girls as they age.
It would be nice to say that a cure is inevitable, that eventually the barriers will fall and autism’s worst effects will be defeated. Nobody is ready to make such
a claim—correcting brain dysfunction is enormously complex and difficult. But as our story relates, the dedication of parents and loved ones of kids with autism is a deep reservoir of inspiration for researchers. Where inspiration and ability meet, hope prevails.
You will notice some changes in this issue. Senior art director Amy Shroads and art director Giorgia Virgili recently completed the first major redesign of the magazine since 2004. And we are excited about the results.
The new format differentiates the major sections in the front of the magazine, Farm Report and Planet Cardinal. Farm Report offers a little of everything: news, sports, history, arcana, student life—a snapshot of the most interesting people and activities on campus. Planet Cardinal casts an eye further out, across the broad panorama of alumni interests and accomplishments. Throughout the magazine, we’ve tweaked the look and feel of our pages to make them more energetic and visually interesting.
We’re also pleased to introduce a digital version of Stanford. When it launches this month, you’ll be able to download the magazine for iPad or iPhone via the App Store or access it on any smartphone or computer at www.stanfordmag-digital.com.
Whatever format you prefer—print, web, or mobile—thanks for reading.
