Turning to Films for Friends: From Pixar to IRL, how Communication Access is Unlocking My Animation Dreams.

TJ Thompson
Jun 27
3 min read

As a kid, my brother had friends with names like Ryan, Matthew, and Jack. He went to their birthday parties and played with them on playgrounds. My friends had names like Nemo, Buzz, and Lightning, and our adventures stayed in my imagination.

My dream is to study computer animation so one day I can become someone who works at Pixar Animation Studios. Whether they design their films to be kind of magical for autistic kids on purpose or it just happens by accident, ultimately the fine designers in those animation studios created my earliest playmates.

TJ visiting Pixar Animation Studios, posing with James P. Sullivan from Monsters, Inc. and his letterboard.

Little, little kids find their best play in following their own happy games. But as they grow, the expectation for connection grows too. I had no true way to voice my words so connection often misfired for me. But I didn’t need a voice to dive into the magic of Pixar films.

Walt Disney found a way to turn his imaginary creations into real theme parks. I worked in the opposite direction, turning movie characters into my own imaginary friends and family. Can that be called creative? Most teachers might judge it as something more clinically autistic but I choose to focus on the creativity.

I realized my goal at an early age and right away turned my autistic hyperfocus toward acquiring coding skills and studying film clips by watching them again and again, trying to analyze the shadow from a waterspout on the Red firetruck’s tears in Cars or the shine of the alien claw in Toy Story.

Most people don’t assume you might be conducting research when you are autistic and watch a short clip on repeat. Most people don’t have a clue about autism.

Good teachers noticed how I gravitated towards toys and puzzles with letters, but no one understood how to bring better use of them to help me communicate all the things I had in my mind. It took until I was eighteen to have been able to find the right support to type my ideas. Using a yellow pencil, I poked single letters on a big black stencil board. My teacher moved with rhythm and unhooked my speeding fingers from their dizzying uncontrolled dance across letters that spelled my favorite websites but not the thoughts in my mind.

A woman with red hair and a young man with dark hair and glasses use a tablet in a cozy room. A laptop with a "Reach Every Voice" sticker and a book titled "The Anti-Ableist Manifesto" are nearby. — TJ types his blog on his iPad.

I, tiny step by tiny step, built my ability to spell on more boards with more people supporting me. I am typing this on my new iPad mini. I still need someone to keep me regulated and focused on my writing. If left to my own devices I either would turn to impulsive typing and app closing or I would get up and waltz away.

On my journey to fulfilling my dream to work at Pixar Animation Studios, my closest companions are shifting from existing in screens to existing IRL. Now that I really am able to express myself, having close relationships with people with names like Tammy, Scott, and Lisa looks so entirely possible.