This video was recorded during a Coldplay show in Mexico, the moment in question and the band’s songs managed to match the emotions of an autistic child and his father, this wonderful and intense moment was then shared by the child’s parents on social media, and has since traveled the world.
The images have great power, a power that moves us and also gives us hope to change the concept and the idea that we have people who have the characteristics of the autism spectrum, seeing a father and son with such a small autism connect in this way, sharing these moments together and letting the emotion get carried away is very valuable.
- At the same time.
- This video serves to present the fight against the now deeply ingrained belief that autistic people feel nothing and are not emotional.
- Is it the same belief that accompanies the expression? Autistic? When used to designate someone who is disconnected from the world or even from himself (as the medical concept sadly defines it).
It is true that people with autism spectrum disorders have difficulty connecting with the world or putting themselves in each other’s place, leaving their reality to enter the reality of others, however, autism does not prevent anyone from feeling. In fact, autistic people can often only be understood through the expression of emotions in the environment, this is one of the reasons why the emotion of this moment lived by this family crosses borders:
As we mentioned before the video, it’s a popular mistake to think that people with autism spectrum disorder have no emotions or feelings. Perhaps this belief is due to the fact that, to explain autism, we use the bubble metaphor, which makes us believe that they are. disconnected from the world and do not understand how they feel.
In response to this misconception, I would like to present to you an account of Raquel Braojos Marton’s love “What to love”. Awarded as the best news from “Tell Me About Autism. “I’m sure after you read, you’ll be speechless?
-Hey, I was told that people with autism don’t have feelings, does your brother feel love and all that, or don’t you feel anything?
The first time I was asked this question I felt a mixture of outrage, fury and, in fact, doubts. The first time I was asked to be a child, I shrugged, looked at the ground, and vehemently denied it. I loved my younger brother and was terrified that she would feel nothing for me. I was too small to understand that to love wasn’t just saying a handful of words, it wasn’t saying “I love you,” and I was afraid A fear I couldn’t control.
In those years, Rubens could not speak, but he clung to us with his handymen. Just us, your family. We didn’t know if it was anger, affection or a way to relieve your stress, years later he learned to talk and ‘I love you’ was one of the things we really wanted to teach him and he did. He continued, repeating, but did not seem to be more real than his capture, even though we were delighted to hear.
That was the problem. Most people think there’s only one way to love someone, ours. We hope everyone goes through the same driving filter. It’s funny because we know how to say I love you, but we’re also able to hurt others, we use other people’s feelings on our behalf, we’re aware of pain and lying. They’d never hurt us. We who are neither pure nor crystalline, can we really show how to love?
And while the doubt of whether my brother loved me has always passed through my mind, like a restless, aggressive bird, I distinctly remember the first time I knew my brother loved someone:
Our Uncle Daniel took us for a walk and felt a special adoration for my brother, Rubens also loved to be with Daniel, obey him and laugh a lot with him, my brother indicated the way forward and the poor of those they did not want. Let’s go.
But Daniel’s dead. It was sudden, overnight, no one expected it, it was very difficult to explain to my brother that there would be no more walks, that we would no longer see our uncle, who was gone, Daniel stopped running, but that my brother did not turn away from his mind, when after a while we again took the same walks with our grandfather , my brother said to me:
-Remember? Walk with Uncle Dani
Some of you may think, “Ah, routine, characteristic of autism, it’s not that I loved my uncle, only that I was used to him. It was necessary like any other aspect of the routine. This could be true in the early moments. “weeks, months or even the first year, but not later.
“What’s in there?” I asked my brother when I was a teenager when I found him opening a safe, quickly tried to hide it, as if it were embarrassing, forced a little with him and took what was in my hands. Image of a very old family reunion. There was our grandfather, our cousin and our Uncle Daniel, I was pictured too. It had been several years since Uncle Daniel’s death, and my brother’s routine could not have been more different than it was. So, in fact, Rubens spent the afternoons glued to his video game. The walks no longer arrived, our grandfather, who also made us walk in the same places, had a degenerative disease.
-What better photo? Told
“Can’t I?” said, trying to hide again.
-Of course you can answer – Do you like the photo ?? At first I didn’t understand what was so special about a picture where it wasn’t.
-If I like it. Uncle Dani pointed to the picture when she was little with Uncle Dani.
His eyes shone and his hands moved with hope, as if they had tried to show me for years. And I did, of course I did. I even cried, with a little emotion: it was love.
? And who’s that girl on her knees? ? I asked
? Your little one.
When our grandfather died, my brother, in addition to looking at his photos, also had another reaction: he entered my grandmother’s house and, instead of going straight into the living room, ran down the hall, opened the door of our grandfather’s old house. room, where he had spent his last years of illness, and looked inside. It was as if I could see his memories like that. Like he’s waiting to find our grandfather lying in his bed. Other times, Rubens would sit in the wheelchair. and stand still, waiting.
Sometimes, years later, when I thought no one was looking at him, my brother would reopen a slit at the door. And he was talking about candy, games, walks, the cap, “I’m going to tell your dad!”. Grandpa Paco, his grandfather Damian and his uncle Daniel. He talked about our three absences and did it with bright eyes. And he looks for my hand, and takes me with him to the computer to show me the discoveries of the week: series wants to see, constellations he wants to memorize, maps, photos, songs, and insists, even though I’m busy.
Because he likes me to be in his world, that I’m part of it. Not always, of course not. But when you want to be with someone, you always choose us, your family, we’re at the top of your pyramid. When you’re tired of your own loneliness, you start shouting our names, because love isn’t flying words, empty promises, songs, poetry or caresses, loving is thinking about the people you care about, missing those who aren’t. . It’s love and nothing else. Thank you, brother, for showing me this.