I'm one of those people, repeatedly mentioned in this thread, whose negativity hovers over them like a dark shadow. I suck the life out of every room and turn off NT's at a prodigious rate.
In my youth, I was almost completely nonverbal. My mother and older brother, both undiagnosed but obviously autistic, never ceased to criticize me for not having friends. (Mom had none.) While never finding my four siblings a job, they repeatedly found me jobs in fast food and washing dishes. After all, I would never amount to anything.
Eighth grade, speech and debate, I outscored my closest competitors by a third. Ninth grade, coach bucked the system to get the NFL (Forensics) to have me compete in the high school division because, well... So, that was the end of that narrative, right? If you can toss other debaters around the podium, you must not be a total idiot.
I had, at last, discovered the key to success in this NT world: logic and reason, skillfully applied. Okay, you guys, stop laughing and get up off the floor. At any rate, I had made my name and I had a claim to fame.
In the army, finished a twenty-week school three weeks early; plus leave, I got five weeks off for Christmas! I had posted my territory. Got home, parents still treated me like I was an idiot. "How do you think I got five weeks off? Maybe, like you, they just didn't want me around?" I learned the social skills to identify and form bonds with individuals; still never spoke in crowds.
After one formation, my Neanderthal sergeant said right out in front of the platoon, "You a DUD, Smith, evvuhbudy NO you a dud." To which I immediately replied, "And you uh Englush majuh, Sahden Barnes. Evvubudy NO you uh Englush majuh." Stunned silence; many of them had never heard me speak. Then, a dozen of his mindless acolytes broke out howling, telling Barnes that the dummy got him good. Well, that taught Sergeant Barnes a lesson, right? No more having everybody think I was stupid, right? Right?
Actually, Barnes was very angry (a totally illogical response.) He caught me sleeping, a jailable offense, kicked the jeebers out of my bed and marched me to the CO's office. On the way, I pointed out to the sergeant that, when he got angry, that set of veins on his forehead stood out like a big, pulsating 'Y'. I tried to walk a bit in front, peek around to see his forehead as we walked. He was acrimonious. Got to the CO's, who told Barnes to stand outside his office. I was Soooo relieved (I said); that man scared me to death. No, he hadn't struck me, but it was a shame that the shiniest pair of boots in the company was all scuffed up from kicking my bed. But, it sure was embarrassing to be marched across the parade ground with all those people looking on as Sergeant Barnes yelled over and over how he was going to throw me in jail this time. Humiliating, and very scary! (You see, it's against the law for an NCO to threaten any enlisted man with imprisonment.) I was told to return to the workplace and Barnes was called into the office for a discussion. I never heard another word about it. Best thing, Sergeant Barnes never bothered me again. Lesson learned; dink the buggers.
In the free world, I worked my way up the technical ladder, unable to fathom some of the foolishness going on around me. At one company, I literally broke a point system designed to motivate technicians. The more difficult tasks were weighted more heavily; the higher your production, the bigger the raise. One impossible board, now a single chip but then a nightmare circuit to troubleshoot, (a discreet phase lock loop, for you techies) I mastered the circuit and racked up huge points. At review time, my supervisor said there was no way he'd give me the raise I'd earned. They eliminated that reward system.
Years later, I was given a few dozen technicians in the defense arena. My employer, a major government contractor, stayed out of my way. I instituted what looked to be costly programs which turned out to produce unparalleled performance improvements. For years, my every contract evaluation was 10. (That means full contract award; unheard of in those circles.) The review system meetings were secret, but I had my spy, who told me that people were angry that I was given 10's. "Even Bo Derek wasn't really a 10." You see, they didn't like me. But the final evaluator would ask the same question: "In what area of the contract has he not exceeded expectations?" (That's right: and now you techs involved know the civilian identity of The Pandector.)
I could tell a dozen more stories along these lines. Is there a point to this self-serving diatribe? You bet your fiddle stick (another techie reference.)
I learned that you don't earn respect by excelling in the things you are paid to do. Respect is not earned according to the criteria laid out in writing. Winning is respected. So much failure and inefficiency is due to people not performing their assigned functions, yet this fact is routinely overlooked because so often the offender is popular among their cohort. I wasn't at all worried about popularity; I had insulated myself from the need with layers of technical excellence, whereas they had insulated themselves from the need for technical excellence with layers of social success.
About a third of my workforce were happy working for me, but everyone on the team performed to expectations or found more appropriate employment. People who had lied on their resume and in interview found reason to update their resume; people who performed were well rewarded.
What I'm saying is... Yes, I have a horrific stage presence. Being judged by NT standards, I often seem the spaced out fool or the overwrought lunatic. I worked very, very, very, very hard to keep my head down and do my assigned tasks. But people aren't comfortable around me. I have a negative approach because a positive approach never earned me anything but an invitation to the rear of the short bus. It was either serve out my miserable life as an unsung bench tech, or stand upright and kick the tail of the one who declares me a fool.
How I envy those on the spectrum who have the sort of social grace to keep a positive attitude while being abused. Me? I earned my right to speak my mind and be heard. If they can't get over the fact that my tone and body language have little to do with my contribution, then that's their problem. If they persist in making it my problem, I feel fully justified in turning the tables. I'm not mean, but my appalling lack of dopamine shouldn't be used to sideline me in life. I know how to speak reasonably; if you can't listen to reason, that's not my fault. If you just don't like my face, well, there's nothing I can do about that. Let's talk results, please, because all that social programming simply isn't installed on my system.
