20 Projects
Temple Grandin
The film Temple Grandin tells the story of Temple Grandin, an autistic woman who used her differences to excel in animal wellfare and advocacy. What makes this film stand out is its nuanced and humanizing portrayal of Autism. Media often uses oversimplified extremes to showcase Autism, either depicted as an intellectual genius or as being completely unable to integrate into society. These extremes fail to reflect the diverse spectrum of experiences that Autistic individuals can have. Temple Grandin however does not indulge these stereotypes. It instead explores the complexities of Temple’s life and how her family and educators have pushed her to use her differences to succeed. The overall message of the film is that, when provided with empathy, understanding and support, individuals on the Autism spectrum can succeed in both personal and professional settings. Both Dr. Carlisle and Temple’s mother fight to give her equal opportunities, but most importantly, they support and treat her with respect, never diminish her strengths.
Early in the movie, Temple faces the challenge of attending a new school, where her strengths and short falls are both apparent. She excels in hands on, visual thinking tasks but abstract concepts like language and math are foreign to her. There is a scene where her teachers discuss her progress, and where she is struggling. There are a majority of frustrated teachers who do not understand how to get through to her. Temple is a visual thinker, she thinks in photographic pictures rather than concepts and generalities. This is a way of thinking that most teachers at the time would have little to no information about. She has one teacher, Dr. Carlisle, her science teacher, who “cracks the code” and. recognizes her visual thinking style before even Temple does. He stands up for her to the other teachers. In this scene, he goes on to advocate for learning accommodations to better suit her strengths.
Dr. Carlisle and Temple’s mother share a common approach, they recognize that Temple thinks differently, but they do not see this as making her less capable than the other children. Instead, they highlight her strengths, showing that with the right support system in place, Temple is able to thrive and achieve her potential despite her differences. Temples school experiences allow the audience to see how with proper understanding and accommodations, Autistic individuals can live full lives and have rich education.
Another moment in the film that reinforces the importance of a strong support system occurs around the 1:20:00 mark when Temple, now an accomplished adult, attends a Christmas party. The family of her childhood bully begins bombards her with questions about her published articles. Excited about this topic, she shares her thoughts about the inhumane conditions of cattle farms and begins to speak faster with lots of gory details. This intensity is off putting for them, and they give each other a look that signals “this is weird, lets go .” Temple notes the moment but cannot understand what the look was, or why. Since she is unable to read these social cues, she becomes overwhelmed. This is a moment that many autistic individuals can relate to, the feeling of being misunderstood, awkward and disconnected from others socially.
The scene cuts from the noisy party to Temple and her mother in an isolated bedroom. Temple is crying, presumably having a panic attack over the interaction mentioned. Temple’s mother plays a crucial role in helping her through this emotional moment. Temple expresses how she will never be able to understand “looks” and social cues stating that she will never be like “them.” There is a powerful moment where her mother only replies, “I know.” There is no judgment, just an understanding that Temple is different, but in no way less. She gives a look and tells her it is a proud and loving one.
Instead of dismissing Temple’s feelings or attempting to fix the situation, her mother simply validates her experience, allowing Temple to process and regain composure. Temple’s struggles with interpreting social cues and her sense of isolation are central to the film, but they are never depicted as signs of incapacity. Instead they are embraced and shown as natural parts of the experience of being autistic. And unlike many movies, where dysregulation is used to reinforce harmful Autistic stereotypes, Temple Grandin, avoids reducing these moments to just explosive emotional outbursts. Instead, it shows how Temple’s dysregulation is more complex than just anger, it stems from her inability to connect with the people around her and her struggle to interpret social cues. Rather than an uncontrollable outburst in front of everyone, we see Temple’s retreat and find solace with help from her mother. This subtle depiction of dysregulation management provides a solution to a meltdown that is often neglected to be seen on screen. This moment exemplifies the importance of a strong support system which is what truly distinguishes Temple Grandin from other films. Autistic characters are often shown as struggling in isolation, without the understanding or support they need to thrive. Temple Grandin shows the audience how critical it is for individuals on the autism spectrum to have a strong network of people who can offer emotional and advocacy support.
Lastly at the end of the movie there is a scene where Temple thanks her mother when she graduates college. She emphasizes that her success is not just the result of her own intelligence or perseverance, but also the result of the love, understanding, and advocacy that she receives from those around her. Her teacher Dr. Carlisle, and her mother’s support played pivotal roles in her development as a growing autistic individual. Temple’s mother, in particular, is shown as a constant source of love and understanding for her. She constantly tries to understand her daughter’s needs and pushes her to experience normalities of life. Many media portrayals of Autism focus on the character’s diagnosis and early years. Temple Grandin highlights the important complexities of Autism and the benefits of advocacy and support.
My Journey back to food
It was July of 2022, I was returning home after completing a city sanctioned half marathon, adrenaline from the day still coursing through my veins. During my drive I felt a headache creeping in. I reached for some ibuprofen, swallowed it with a sip of water. A strange sensation lingered in my throat, an uncomfortable tightness I couldn’t shake. I tried to shrug it off, convincing myself that it was nothing. As the night progressed the feeling stayed, my mind never letting go of the odd sensation. Laying in bed I turned to my wife Shelley, and shared my growing concern. “I took a pill hours ago and I still feel like something’s stuck in my throat.” She tried to gauge the situation from a rational point of view, expressing that it may be something that I could sleep off. “No.. no no” I remember the fear that began to grip me, “I need to go now, please” It is not often that I express concern like this so she agreed to take me immediately to the emergency room. The drive was silent, my mind focused solely on this plaguing choking sensation.
At the hospital, the fluorescent lights felt harsh as I recounted my symptoms to the doctor. My face flushed with insecurity as I told him of the choking sensation. After a quick examination, he reassured me, “I do not see anything wrong with your throat. Just give it a few days.” This conclusion felt like a punch to the gut. Even though I did not believe this conclusion, I left trying to accept that everything was okay but ultimately I felt like I wasted everyone’s time.
The discomfort lingered as I tried to ignore it. This persistent feeling morphed into a gnawing anxiety around eating. I was scared. I believed there had to be something wrong, why else would I still have this feeling in my throat? Why else would any attempt at solids end in what felt like a near death choking fit. It was easy to start withholding solids at first, in hopes the feeling would disappear but as days turned into weeks, my struggle only intensified. Eating became a daunting task as I feared that anything other than liquids would trigger that choking sensation again. Because of this my weight plummeted, and with it, my spirit. It had been 5 months without solids. I ended up visiting specialists and yet each one echoed the same sentiment as the ER doctor: “I don’t see anything wrong with your throat.” They were confused, they could see I was struggling as I had lost 50 pounds but had no clear answer for me other than to send me further down the chain of doctors.
I was becoming a stranger. One day I looked in the mirror and I couldn’t tell who was looking back at me. I had always been athletic, my whole life I played football and baseball, I spent my adulthood in the Navy, and then running into burning buildings and fighting fires yet now I can hardly spend an hour outside without being completely drained for the rest of the day. This not only affected me physically but socially too. I no longer felt comfortable eating lunch with my coworkers and friends of 20+ years. It became too much to constantly combat the questions “Why aren’t you eating?” Embarrassed, I could only reply, “Oh, I already ate.” I could feel their worry, yet I felt too ashamed to share my struggle with them. And as the holidays approached, shame and embarrassment clouded my thoughts even more. Thanksgiving haunted me, the kitchen would fill with the rich aromas of roasted turkey and pumpkin pie, everything I once loved, but now I just wanted to avoid the feast all together. The joy of the holiday felt like a cruel reminder of my limitations. I couldn’t enjoy the food and I especially did not want to be gawked at and asked about my weight or why I was not eating. So I pulled even further into my isolation, deciding to skip the event all together.
I thought this was my new reality, never again to eat solids, isolated from loved ones and that I’d wither away. I had become so ashamed of the situation that I almost gave up. Two weeks before Christmas I had another appointment. I didn’t want to go and be told the same thing I had heard for months. But pleading from my wife convinced me to try one last time, and I am so glad that I did because I had gotten the best Christmas gift of my life. It was as if the clouds had parted and the sun shined down on an answer. As I sat there waiting for my newest doctor to tell me that everything seemed fine, that nothing was wrong she asked me “has anybody ever looked into esophageal dysphagia with you?” They had not. I remember the hitch in my breath as she gave me an actual diagnosis, not just a referral to another doctor. Apparently I had a rare condition that I was born with where individuals have weak throat muscles. She explained that it(my throat muscles) had always been that way, but that for most people It can remain hidden for their whole life unless triggered by an event. She held my hand and told me that the anxiety I had been feeling often manifests in cases like these and exasperates the issue. While she told me this it felt like a relief and a burden at the same time. I finally had a doctor who gave me a diagnosis. It was still disheartening knowing that my earlier doctors were at least partially right. There was not much to do about my weak muscles and the root issue anxiety robbed me of normalcy for 5 months.
I began taking a combination of anxiety medication and GERD treatment, she suggested it might help me confront my fears of eating. I felt a glimmer of hope, but I was unsure if it would truly help me overcome my anxiety surrounding food. Whether it was the medicine or merely a placebo effect this combination would go on to break the cycle of fear that threatened to kill me.
Slowly, I started to reclaim my life. Starting with the simplest of foods I began to conquer my fears. It began with a slice of bread. I remember holding that bread in front of me for what felt like hours. It was 2 days after I had started my medication and I was determined that that was the day I reclaimed my life. I took my first bite. That small act that felt monumental. I called my wife, with tears in my eyes “I ate bread today!” It was just bread but each victory, no matter how small, ignited a spark of hope within me, and I knew that I could beat this.
I began to see food differently. If I could eat an egg salad sandwich, why not a tuna sandwich? Each success fueled my determination to push past the anxiety and bite by bite I reclaimed pieces of my identity.
As my victories increased and my anxiety faded I began to rejoin social outings, no longer sidelined by my anxiety. I could sit with friends at a table, laughing and sharing stories, savoring the camaraderie rather than fearing the meal. No longer confined to grits and mashed potatoes, I’ve rediscovered the joy of food, laughter, and connection. I had energy back for the first time in months, I could workout with my fellow firefighters and hoped I could return to my active lifestyle. I began training for a 5k. It seemed like a daunting task. Within a year I had gone from a half marathon to hardly walking for an hour. I was still severely underweight but gaining it back, bit by bit. In May of 2023, almost a year after the initial incident I was able to run (and partially walk) a 5k, a stark contrast to those days when I could hardly manage a stroll. During the race, I felt alive and strong. Each step is a testament to my resilience. I’ve regained my strength and my weight, my identity and most importantly, my peace of mind. I am so thankful for the support of my wife, never letting me give up, and for the doctor who finally saw what the anxiety was doing to me. These two ladies saved my life and I would not be here without them.
