What Sports Taught me about Autism

April is Autism Awareness Month, which was started by the Autism Society in 1984. At that time the public knew little of the disorder so an awareness campaign made perfect sense. Today, it is difficult to imagine how anyone could be unaware of autism. Still, the disorder and the people who have it are too often misunderstood so an awareness campaign that helps educate the public is worthwhile. That’s what we try to do and why we support it each year. There is a move to change the word “Awareness” to “Acceptance” and I’m cool with that if the time has come. It’s probably more accurate and speaks to the needs of today. 

It was nearly a quarter century after Autism Awareness Month began that our son was officially diagnosed with the disorder. That’s when our autism education began, but coincidentally, our philosophy for raising him was influenced by an experience I had in 1984. 

It was my freshman year in high school and while my love for track and field was clear, my talent was anything but. My twin brother, Dan and I had just learned the Fosbury Flop technique in the high jump. We weren’t good enough jumpers to compete for the team at that time, but we spent a lot of time practicing our technique. During a home meet after we completed our events, we waited until the high jump had finished, then spent the next two hours jumping, trying to go higher each time. It didn’t matter that our best height that day was 4’8 - far below anything competitive for our age. We weren’t discouraged and we continued making progress. It had to be an amusing spectacle to those watching us that day and I’m confident that no one there would have predicted that we would both eventually become Division I All-Americans in track and field. 

It would be easy to claim that our work ethic and the persistence we showed that day were keys to what eventually became successful track futures, but that’s too easy and it misses some crucial elements. Those elements are commonly missed in youth sports today and in our education system in general. They are also top of mind as we raise our son.

The lessons we learned that day did lead to future success, but not in the way most people would expect after hearing that story. There are four hidden lessons that I still think about today. 

1. Competing at the college level was the furthest thing from our minds. We weren’t putting in the time for a long-term goal and we weren’t making sacrifices for delayed gratification. We were kids having the time of our lives and we were only thinking about that moment. When you love what you’re doing, it doesn’t feel like hard work and we really loved what we were doing. 

2. We weren’t persistent in the face of poor performances that day because we weren’t focused on anyone else. We were jumping at our individual level and we defined success by our personal bests, even though those bests were not great. If we had focused on the standard opening height of 5’0 in the actual meet, we wouldn’t have come close to clearing it and we would have spent very little time trying.

3. No one stopped us. The competition was over and we weren’t seen as serious athletes at that time. We normally would have been kicked off the high jump mat and the equipment would have been put away. It took one man, varsity coach, Dave Swanson, to see past what most would not have, and say, “Let them jump, they aren’t hurting anyone.” He didn’t have to allow it and I doubt he realized how something so small could have fostered lessons that have been carried for a lifetime.

4. No one made us feel stupid for trying our best for only a 4’8 jump. No one told us how many kids our age could jump higher or that our form looked funny. They left us alone and we were exhilarated with every new personal best. We were able to focus on mastering the event at our own pace, at our individual level, and that helped us fall in love the sport even more. 

I can’t help but see my son in that very situation on a regular basis. It’s a different perspective, but when you are out of the box when you start the day, you can’t help but be open to out of the box options when it comes to helping your child reach their potential. 

We encourage his interests, regardless of his aptitude. The brain is stimulated for growth when a person is interested and challenging themselves to learn. That’s what counts, so whether he is naturally talented at something or not, we want him to explore it. We won't tell him he can't do something and we won't close the doors to him trying. His 4'8 jump today could be a 6'8 tomorrow. 

We accept him for who he is and where he is – and start from there. We aren’t interested in where he should be for his age or the pace his peers are on. This is one of the eye-openers we discovered in the education system. In life, two people might be interested in reading and discussing the same book. The important thing is that they both read it, not how quickly they both read it. In education, the speed in which you read or learn is one of the most important things we measure. That’s convenient for schools, but means very little in reality. It would be a great day if the volume that was learned had as much value as the speed in which it was learned. 

We don’t want Darrin Khan to judge himself by standard measures and while we understand that the educational system is not likely to change, we want his teachers to see him as an amazing individual who is an outlier in nearly all educational measures of success. If we really want individuals to reach their potential, a standardized measure is completely ineffective. It’s a reflection of our tendency to measure those things that are measureable and is evidence of what poet Joshua Bennett calls, “our obsession with normalcy.” 

It also speaks to the great quote by Albert Einstein, “Everybody is a Genius. But If You Judge a Fish by Its Ability to Climb a Tree, It Will Live Its Whole Life Believing that It is Stupid.”

Darrin Steele is CEO for USA Bobsled & Skeleton, VP of Sport for the International Bobsleigh and Skeleton Federation and PhD Candidate in Educational Leadership, Research and Policy at University of Colorado - Colorado Springs.