Shayna throws temper tantrums, repeats nonsense words in place of normal language and sometimes communicates by barking like a dog.

"She is my autistic child," says Mary Meinel-Newport, a former University of Arizona student, looking adoringly at the baby carriage beside her.

Shayna is a white cockatoo, Newport-Meinel's beloved bird and example of a 3-year-old autistic child.

"Often when people have an autistic child, they say, 'Oh, what a burden,'" she says.

"But people would pay $2,000 to $3,000 for her and consider her an exotic, desirable addition to the family," she says. "She will always be a 3-year-old, but I will still always love her and always want her."

Meinel-Newport and her husband Jerry Newport are savants with Asperger's syndrome, a high-functioning form of autism that affects an estimated 15 out of every 10,000 people. Savantism refers to an extraordinary talent in particular areas. Meinel-Newport was diagnosed autistic as a child after being wrongly labeled mentally retarded.

No clear cause

Autism affects communication, behaviors and social interaction. Autistic individuals may be resistant to changes in routine, may not understand everyday dangers, may resist cuddling, and may not interact well with others.

Autism is a neurobiological-based brain disorder. There is no clear cause, but patterns of possible causes are there, says Brigid Connolly, a private psychiatrist for adults with developmental disabilities.

Meinel-Newport, a gifted artist and composer of music, shaved her head to land guest appearances on Star Trek's "Deep Space Nine" as the blue-faced Lady Bolian. She has also been an extra on "Babylon Five" and the movie version of "The Beverly Hillbillies."

Her husband is a numerical whiz who can mentally calculate which day of the week Halloween fell on in 1966 or 1855. He works at the department of medicine at University of California at Los Angeles, where he audits records, designs spreadsheets and makes spending projections.

Salvation in the desert

Meinel-Newport is the daughter of Eden Meinel, Kitt Peak's first director and founder of the UA Optical Sciences Center.

She was raised in Tucson in a family of nine, all of whom have aspects of autism.

Eden Meinel also had a form of autism, although he did not realize it. He was an incredibly obsessive perfectionist, says Meinel-Newport.

"The word insanity often came up."

Meinel-Newport went on trips with her family up to Kitt Peak and witnessed the construction of its first observatory.

Through the telescope, Meinel showed his daughter the universe. Afterward, her interest in it intensified, especially for the desert environment, which she says she considers her salvation.

While looking at rocks and cacti amongst the desert brush and learning their identities, Meinel-Newport became interested in geology. It led her to earn a degree in gemological identification and another in jewelry manufacturing.

She attended the UA for 21/2 years, but left after suffering a nervous breakdown in 1978, she says. She began an apprenticeship rebuilding, refinishing and using her tuning pianos.

Meinel-Newport's work as a piano technician and tuner brought her to Los Angeles and New York, but she found she had trouble when there were distractions while she was working, such as the clinking of silverware or talking, she says.

She also worked in New York City's gem industry, but when people tried to converse with her she could not handle it, she says.

Helping others learn

Meinel-Newport spoke at a seminar given by the Pima County Chapter of the Autism Society of America this weekend. She and five other panelists, all of whom have Asperger's syndrome, spoke hoping to help others learn about the condition through the stories of their lives.

The panelists spoke to 200 health professionals and families with autistic children, focusing on the challenges they encountered growing up, especially troubles with social interaction.

Susan Main, a 20-year-old high school graduate from Las Vegas, says like other people with autism she never knew how to join groups and converse with them.

Another panelist, Paul McDonnell, says, "I would be cut off in a conversation and feel really awkward." McDonnell is an author from Minneapolis who co-wrote a book about autism titled "News from the Border" with his mother, Jane Taylor McDonnell.

Misdiagnosis common

In eighth grade and ninth grade Main refused to go to school. Doctors diagnosed her school-phobic with oppositional-defined disorder, she says.

"They weren't listening to me," she says. "The fact that I could speak and interact with peers was enough for them not to say I have autism."

Misdiagnosis is common in those with high-functioning autism.

Jean Paul Bouvee, who has two master's degrees and heads the University of Missouri's Development Disability Division, says he was tested and labeled "deaf" and "mentally retarded" before doctors realized he was autistic.

Bouvee changed schools in third grade and began going to the back of the classroom to read encyclopedias. For some reason, this prompted school officials to place him in classes for the mentally retarded.

"I tried to conform and be like everyone else, but I didn't feel like me. I could not hide the parts of me that were autistic," he says.

Certain rituals have a lot of meaning and are very important in the lives of those with autism, says Meinel-Newport.

McDonnell says, "When I was a kid I used to have a watch named Squeezy. It was like a household pet and every night I would kiss it goodnight. If anything happened to it I flew off the handle."

Meinel-Newport memorized the entire mass at her church and became very upset when they changed it, she says.

Bouvee says he used to make lists constantly. He currently feels compelled to go to colleges and buy novelty items and school publications.

Although ritualistic behaviors are exhibited by individuals with autism, everyone has these kind of habits to an extent, says Newport, pointing out the yearly rituals of members of Congress as an example.

On to a normal life

After suffering a nervous breakdown while living in Hollywood in 1991, Meinel-Newport met her husband at the Adult Gathering, United and Autistic support group that he had started.

"With her I felt I was a guest rather than an invader," Newport says. "This was a woman where I could be me."

Both Bouvee and McDonnell say they would like to get married and raise a family. "Even though I have autism, I still have the same hopes and dreams as all of you," says McDonnell.

Meinel-Newport and her husband live in Los Angeles with her two sons, but plan to return to Tucson after she completes her second gemology/jewelry design degree at the Gemology Institute of America in Santa Monica.

"We have fashioned our lives together recognizing what are our no-nos and must-haves. We live a very happy life," she says.