The mysterious language of spectrum kiddies

The Mysterious Language of Spectrum Kiddies: Decoding the Misunderstandings of Autistic Communication By Andrea Grant 

Language processing in children on the autism spectrum is a world unto itself. It’s like being handed a map of Joburg, only to realise you’re actually in Cape Town. At first glance, children on the spectrum may seem like they’ve got the whole sociability thing down, especially when they’re masking. But beneath that façade, they often lack the instinctive awareness of how their words can affect others. This can result in some classic misunderstandings, to say the least. 

Many autistic children—whether in my own home or my classroom—are indeed sociable when needed, but they also harbour a hidden storm of challenges that we often overlook. The awareness that they're struggling to process language can lead to stress, and stress and sensory overload go together like tea and biscuits. Throw a shutdown into the mix, and suddenly, you’ve got a recipe for zero learning. The irony? They're acutely aware of when they're not understanding something, which only makes things worse.

But let's break this down. There are two ways that children (yes, neurotypical and neurodiverse alike) acquire language. First, there’s what most of us consider the "normal" way: analytical processing, or "learn a word, say a word." This is how nearly all neurotypical children develop language skills. It’s straightforward, predictable, and logical—like putting together a bookcase from Mr Price Home (with instructions, of course). 

Then there’s the second, more complex method: Gestalt language processing. This method is like an abstract painting that only starts to make sense after stepping back and squinting a bit. Autistic children tend to learn language this way, with about 85% of them picking up language through echolalia, according to researcher Barry Prizant. Essentially, they echo overheard sounds and phrases, regardless of whether they fully understand what they’re repeating. And while it might sound like a quirky habit, it’s actually a vital step in how neurodiverse children process and eventually understand language. 

Now, some important factors for parents and educators to keep in mind: First, auditory memory can be slow in children on the spectrum, which affects how they learn language. Imagine trying to keep up with a conversation when your brain is still playing back what was said a few seconds ago. This delay in receptive language—the understanding of what’s being said—can lead to missed cues and confusion. Furthermore, don’t be fooled by sophisticated or supercilious language from your spectrum kiddo. They may sound like mini-professors, but that doesn’t necessarily mean they grasp the full meaning of the words they’re using. It’s not uncommon for children on the spectrum to parrot phrases or words that sound impressive, yet if you dig a bit deeper, you’ll find that verbal reasoning may be impeded. What they’re saying might sound great, but understanding what they’re saying can be a different story. 

Recently, my thirteen-year-old daughter told her lift club lady that she “hates” her, she was not trying to be cruel. After a bit of detective work (i.e., talking it through), we discovered that what she really meant was that she dislikes what the lift club lady represents: the start of another school day, leaving the cosy predictability of home for the wild, unpredictable jungle that is to her, school life. 

For my own children, two of whom are on the spectrum, language is often just for them, a means of self-expression that doesn’t necessarily consider the context, feelings, or reactions of others. Social niceties? Those are just complications they haven’t quite mastered yet. So, if you find yourself on the receiving end of a less-than-flattering comment from a spectrum child, take a deep breath, count to three, and remember: It’s probably not about you. 

The moral of the story? When in doubt—ask. Instead of taking offence, dig a little deeper. What seems like a harsh statement might just be their way of expressing something entirely different. In the end, our neurodiverse children often aren’t aware of the nuances of communication that many of us take for granted, so they might just need a bit of help navigating the treacherous waters of social interaction.