Am I human? The question comes up more often than it probably should. Every time I catch myself doing something unusual. A hiccup in conversation. An inexplicable behavior that makes others stare. A failure to understand what has someone else upset, or why they can’t stop being upset. And very often, catching myself observing something and wondering something a human wouldn’t wonder about. What caused the scratches on this car? Why did this person choose this particular flower for their garden? When and why did that couple decide to have a child? Am I human? They say autistic brains are wired differently. But if that’s true, if there’s a physical difference that’s real and identifiable, then at what point are we so different that we fall out of the definition of human? Obviously the answer is never. We’re all human, I know that. Usually I even believe it. Yet the question keeps coming up.
I feel the mountains burn inside 