"Parents'
Success Inspires Others To Try"
Reprinted from the Contra Costa Times
Published Tuesday, August 8, 2000
"They looked at me, spinning in circles, flapping
my hands, and saw an amazing little boy touching
the sky in a world of his own creation."
By Sandy Kleffman
TIMES STAFF WRITER
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
At the age of 18 months, Raun Kaufman
received what he now considers a death sentence:
He was diagnosed as autistic and retarded, with
an IQ below 30. Experts told his parents he would
never speak, never read, never communicate in a
meaningful way.
At best, he might learn to dress himself
and perform other menial tasks. But for his own
sake, he should eventually be placed in an institution,
doctors said.
Today, Kaufman holds a degree in biomedical
ethics from Brown University -- and remains forever
grateful that his parents chose not to heed the
doctors' advice. Against the recommendation of experts,
friends and family, his parents forged their own
method for reaching their unreachable child.
Kaufman's story -- detailed in a made-for-TV
movie and book, "Son-Rise: The
Miracle Continues" -- illustrates
the mystery that surrounds autism, a severe developmental
disorder with no known cause or cure.
It is a tale of parents who refused
to give up, who saw possibilities in their son rather
than deficiencies.
Kaufman's story also provides hope
for the thousands of autistic children who remain
locked in their own worlds. While few will experience
the stunning turn-around Kaufman enjoyed, he is
convinced autistic children can make dramatic progress
if people take steps to lead them out of their isolation.
"So many of these children are
given life sentences -- that's just as silly as
saying the child is going to Harvard," Kaufman
said during a recent interview in San Francisco.
New cause for concern
Autism is drawing increased attention across the
nation as the number of children diagnosed with
the disorder rises rapidly. It was the subject of
a recent cover story in Newsweek magazine, and California
lawmakers have decided to pump $34 million into
the M.I.N.D. Institute at UC Davis to attempt to
unravel the mystery behind the disorder.
Kaufman, now 27, visited the Bay Area
recently for a speaking engagement. During an interview
at a San Francisco hotel, he showed no signs of
the disorder that plagued his early years.
Today, he is a gregarious, bright
young man with a wide-ranging vocabulary, a friendly
manner and a quick smile. He perched on the edge
of his chair, locked his eyes on an interviewer
and tried to explain why autistic children find
isolation so appealing.
"This world is very difficult
to understand and cope with on a lot of levels,
so they create a world for themselves that makes
sense," he said.
As a young boy, Kaufman spent hours
twirling plates and flapping his hands in front
of his face. He didn't talk, rarely looked at others
and seemed unresponsive to human contact of any
kind.
These are all classic signs of autism.
Autistic children often have little or no speech,
can't interact socially and have a rigid need for
routine.
By age 2 or 3, they often are profoundly
isolated, failing to make eye contact or respond
to others. Some appear to have a hypersensitivity
to sound or touch.
Kaufman, who remembers little about
his early years, "emerged" from autism
at the age of 5 after his parents spent three and
a half years working with him 12 hours a day, seven
days a week, huddled in a bathroom away from distractions.
He now lives in Massachusetts and
helps his parents run The Son-Rise Program®
at the Option Institute, where they teach the techniques
his parents developed to other mothers and fathers.
Refusing to say no
After doctors diagnosed their son, Raun, as autistic,
Barry and Samahria Kaufman visited several treatment
programs but were dissatisfied with what they saw.
So the Kaufmans decided to wing it, making up their
approach as they went along.
They began by spending hours in the
bathroom with Raun, mimicking his behavior. When
he twirled plates, they twirled plates. When he
flapped his hands, they flapped theirs.
Critics complained that they were
making matters worse by reinforcing his behavior.
But it was the only way they knew to reach their
son.
Raun's mother recalls vividly the
moment she first made a connection. "I can
get choked up just thinking about it," she
said during a phone interview last week. "At
the beginning, he never even glanced for just a
second at anybody."
But one morning, about a month after
she began working with Raun, she sat stacking a
hollow, plastic block on top of another, trying
to get him to place a third block on top. He wouldn't
do it. He kept taking the block off and throwing
it against the tile floor and walls, where it made
a loud noise as it ricocheted around.
On an impulse, his mother decided
to join in the fun. Grabbing the entire box of blocks,
she flung them around the bathroom, creating a cacophony
of sound. Then she turned toward Raun.
"He was looking right at me with
this big smile on his face," his mother recalled.
"He knew that I was imitating him. He finally
saw me and wanted to be with me. It was incredibly
beautiful."
Raun's parents were determined never
to view their son's condition as a tragedy.
"They looked at me, spinning
in circles, flapping my hands, and saw an amazing
little boy touching the sky in a world of his own
creation," Kaufman wrote in a booklet about
his life. "They always totally accepted me
exactly the way I was, whether I improved dramatically
or remained completely unchanged.
"They wanted to reach out to
me and build a bridge from their world to mine,
a bridge they knew I would cross only by choice
-- never by coercion."
Kaufman said his parents sought first
to make a connection, then to teach him the things
he needed to learn. He contrasted this to other
approaches in which children are punished for not
following a prescribed regimen.
"These kids are shown a world
marked by disapproval, physical force, condescension,
and a total lack of control over their environment,"
he wrote. "Who would, after seeing such a world,
do anything other than run away or push against
it?"
Specialists are mystified
Experts aren't sure what to make of Raun Kaufman's
amazing recovery. While many autistic children show
remarkable improvement, it is rare for someone to
completely "emerge" from the disorder.
Some question whether Kaufman was
diagnosed properly as a young boy.
Bryna Siegel, director of the Pervasive
Developmental Disorders Clinic at UC San Francisco,
said she knows of two colleagues who examined Kaufman
before his parents began working with him and did
not believe he was autistic, although he did have
severe language difficulties and was withdrawn.
His parents took him to numerous experts before
the diagnosis was made.
"Was Raun ever really autistic?"
Siegel asks. "I don't think he met full diagnostic
criteria."
His mother disagrees vehemently, saying
he exhibited all the classic signs and that she
has written proof of his diagnosis.
The confusion exists because there
is no black-and-white test for autism. Doctors analyze
whether a child exhibits specified behaviors before
reaching a conclusion.
Portia Iversen, president and co-founder
of Cure Autism Now, a Los Angeles-based group of
parents and clinicians dedicated to finding treatments
and a cure for autism, said she finds Kaufman's
story inspiring.
"I think it's absolutely true
and it's heartening," she said. "The research
has suggested that about 4 percent of these people
recover for no known reason."
Siegel, whose clinic at UC San Francisco
has seen nearly 2,500 autistic children, said the
approach used by the Kaufmans is beneficial for
some children but not all. For example, it can be
useful for those with behavior problems who understand
speech, she said.
But for children with little or no
language ability, she added, "I think this
approach is not useful because they are not ready
to benefit from information that is delivered to
them via language."
Others find it valuable, however.
Siegel noted that the mother of one of her patients
participated in an Option Institute program and
her child showed marked improvement.
"It has something to say for
how to treat children with autism," Siegel
said. "It certainly was a forerunner of a lot
of what is going on today in the treatment of autism."
Other approaches
Iversen, who traveled to Georgia to observe a family
using the Option Institute techniques, noted that
different programs work for different children.
Parents should try out various approaches to figure
out what is effective for their child.
"Any approach that takes intensive
one-on-one intervention will make an incredible
difference," Iversen said.
"What Option does that is really
nice is they acknowledge the sensory problem and
lower the sensory input for the child (by working
in a small room with minimal distractions),"
she added. "They're removing all the stimulus
except the human stimulus."
Some critics say the Kaufmans are
providing false hope to parents. They note that
most experts consider autism to be caused by a malfunction
in the brain. As a result, they say, it is unrealistic
to think that a child can "emerge" from
autism.
But Samahria Kaufman notes that stroke
victims can recondition their brains to compensate
for parts that aren't working properly. She believes
autistic children can do the same thing.
Raun Kaufman, meanwhile, bristles
at the notion that there can be false hope when
it comes to autism.
"I never hear people use the
term false pessimism, yet that is what many parents
are handed," he said. "Of course, we cannot
predict in advance all the things a child will do.
But hoping leads to action. Without hope, there
is no action. And without action, you can't help
any of these children."
Additional Articles:
"The Importance of Being Happy"
Reprinted from In Context
"Parenting by Intention"
Reprinted from Mothering Magazine, USA
"Assistance For Autistic Children"
Text from 9 On Your Kids Side Video
Originally aired 9/24/02 on WCPO TV9
Complete List of Autism Articles
The
Son-Rise Program®