When the Brain Shines Bright…But the Body Doesn’t Cooperate 

What a viral scan, my daughter’s journey, and Dr. Temple Grandin taught me about unlocking communication and honoring neurodiversity

You’ve probably seen it — the viral image comparing two brain scans: one labeled “autistic,” the other “neurotypical.” The autistic scan lights up with color and complexity, almost electric in its intensity. The image is often linked to Dr. Temple Grandin, one of the most widely recognized autistic thinkers of our time.

While this specific image hasn’t been published in peer-reviewed literature, it does come from research conducted by Walt Schneider at the University of Pittsburgh and was featured in USA Today.

Grandin’s brain has been studied, and the findings are clear: her visual output area is significantly larger than average, and her wiring is unique in ways that have shaped her life, her challenges — and her genius.

The Truth Behind the Image

Modern brain imaging, like high-definition fiber tracking, gives us a stunning insight: In many autistic individuals, the brain isn’t “quiet” or “less developed.” It’s hyperactive, just not always well coordinated.

  • Visual, sensory, and pattern-recognition regions may be supercharged.

  • But the long-range “highways” that connect different brain regions — especially those for speech, movement, and executive function — may be weaker or underdeveloped.

It’s like a city of brilliant neighborhoods with poor roads between them. Messages get jammed or detoured. Thoughts form, but the output — speech, action, response — gets stuck in traffic.

That’s why someone might:

  • Understand everything but be unable to speak.

  • Feel deeply but appear unbothered or flat.

  • Know exactly what they want to do, but their body won’t comply.

This isn’t defiance. This isn’t a behavior issue. This is neurological traffic. The brain is alive with intent — the body just doesn’t always cooperate.

My Daughter’s Body Struggled — Her Mind Didn’t

This is the reality for my daughter, Devyn. She’s nonspeaking and has apraxia, a motor-planning condition that makes it incredibly hard to control her body on demand — even though she knows what she wants to say.

For years, people assumed she didn’t understand.

Then we discovered the Spellers Method, and everything changed.

Spellers Method: A Motor Workaround, Not a Cure

The Spellers Method helps nonspeaking individuals bypass unreliable motor systems using letterboards and co-regulation. It doesn’t “fix” apraxia — it works around it by retraining the body to follow intentional motor sequences.

This approach isn’t about handing someone a tool. It’s about motor coaching — like physical therapy for communication.

Think Parkinson’s patients who:

  • Hum to maintain their walking rhythm

  • Use a laser pointer to guide each step

Or stroke survivors who:

  • Relearn how to swallow

  • Rebuild motor sequences for speech

Spellers use similar principles:

  • Visual anchors, motor prompts, co-regulation

  • Customized setups that match the individual’s motor and sensory needs

  • Progress over time as the body learns to trust new pathways

It’s rigorous. It’s real. It’s life-changing.

Other methods like S2C (Spelling to Communicate) and RPM (Rapid Prompting Method) also work for many. For Devyn, Spellers was the key that fit her lock.

The Day I Met Temple Grandin (And the Full-Circle Moments That Followed)

Years ago, when Devyn was just starting this journey, I heard Dr. Temple Grandin speak at SUNY Brockport. I brought my camera. I took a picture. I sat in awe. I was a mom searching for answers, and Temple was proof that a different brain could lead to remarkable outcomes.

Later, I got to emcee a virtual Q&A with her through a nonprofit farm I worked with. That event sparked a few personal text exchanges over the years — not because I’m anyone special, but because she is.

Most recently, I brought Devyn and my sister (also on the spectrum) to see Temple speak again — this time at SUNY Geneseo. The roles had reversed: I wasn’t just a mom looking for hope, I was a mom showing what’s possible.

Then — because life writes the best stories — my mom ran into Temple at the airport. Another moment. Another photo. Another reminder that the people who change your life don’t always disappear after they do it.

Finding Common Ground — and the Courage to Be Seen

I don’t share these stories to impress you. I share them because we all need someone to believe in us before we believe in ourselves.

Temple Grandin isn’t extraordinary in spite of her brain — she’s extraordinary because of it.

And that’s what I want the world to understand about Devyn — and so many others whose brilliant minds are trapped in bodies that don’t cooperate on cue.

They are:

  • Thinking

  • Feeling

  • Learning

  • Dreaming

They just need:

  • The benefit of the doubt

  • The tools to access their potential

  • The motor-based supports we already give people recovering from strokes or living with Parkinson’s

When we combine presumed competence with practical support, we don’t minimize the challenge — we rise to meet it. Because everyone deserves to be heard.

The photos I share of Temple are not trophies, but instead reminders:

That shared humanity connects us.

That different isn’t less.

That hope and innovation go hand in hand.

Let’s keep building a world where we all have a voice — and where we find common ground to stand on, together.

🧡 If this resonated with you, follow along and share. Devyn’s journey — and others like hers — aren’t just stories. They’re blueprints for a more inclusive future.