“For as soon as an unexpected fact appears, we try to fit it in the framework of the common places of acquired knowledge and we are indignant that anyone should dare experiment further.”
– Paramhansa Yogananda, Autobiography of a Yogi
Yogananda’s quote regards the human approach to science and the nature of the universe, but when I apply it to the neurotypical understanding of autism, it seems to fit just right.
Autism is often unexpected by families. It is also commonly explained as a deficiency that needs lots of therapy and remediation, rather than a neutral neurological processing difference compared to the neurotypical processing. Our introduction to autism is usually one cloaked in words like “reg flags”, “symptoms”, and “disorders”. Because of this negative introduction, unwitting parents and caregivers are on defense for anything related autism.
Parents especially fear autism, yet understand their child is also perfect the way they are. Often they’re perplexed because they note the growth, intelligence and creativity of a child, but observed they’re markedly different than typical peers. This duality of understanding is the source of so much anguish and frustration. It doesn’t need to be this way.
This may also be due not just to negative explanations of autism, but also because people conflate autism with a form of intellectual disability. These two things are not mutual, though autistic people (and neurotypical people) can also have intellectual disabilities.
Here’s the entire quote from Yogananda, and just for fun, let’s pretend that this it is about the understanding of neurological processing differences:
“The truths- those surprising, amazing, unforeseen truths which our descendants will discover are even now around us, staring us in the eyes, so to speak. And yet we do not see them. But it is not enough to say we do not see them. We do not wish to see them. For as soon as an unexpected fact appears, we try to fit it in the framework of the common places of acquired knowledge and we are indignant that anyone should dare experiment further.”
– Paramhansa Yogananda, from Autobiography of a Yogi
If an autistic person’s behavior does not make sense to you please consider doing the following:
Observe the behavior without judgment. This will be nearly impossible, so here’s an easier way: every time you witness the behavior, check your thoughts to see when you are deeming something socially appropriate or inappropriate. Observe how you feel when you witness this. Consider your emotions as you observe. Are you uncomfortable? Angry? Embarrassed? Curious?
Once you’ve understood through which lens you are witnessing the behavior, be aware this is impacting your ability to “see” the behavior for what it is.
Behavior is a form of communication and for many autistic people, their bodies are important means to communicate when they are unable to verbally articulate their needs.
Ask the autistic person when they’re in a rested state what their behavior means. Often, they will tell you. If you interrupt to tell them why it is bad/wrong/unacceptable, remember that they will likely stop telling you in the future or find deep shame in trying to meet their own needs.
If the person is too young to explain or unable to articulate what/why, consider searching the web for autistic voices who can explain things. Do not ask when they’re overstimulated, as answering may be impossible in that moment.
A group that substantially changed my understanding of autism was the closed Facebook Group “Autism Inclusivity”. This is an educational group where parents and caregivers of autistic kids can ask autistic adults about behaviors and intentions.
Caution: read the rules and observe first. Learn about etiquette in safe spaces for autistic people. Ableism and sympathy for neurotypical people will not be present here; this is because most other every place in the world favors the neurotypical. Go there to learn and be amazed. Also, on my Instagram page, I repost daily tips from #actuallyautistic people and neurodiversity affirming clinicians and researchers. My handle is @sensationalstims.
If you want to understand autism, learn from autistic people!
3. Do you understand sensory differences? I didn’t. I am embarrassed to admit this, but I thought we all kind of had the same sensory experiences. Autistic people usually have heightened senses that, unless supported, are often overwhelming and can cause anxiety, fatigue, burnout, and meltdowns. Learn what your child’s sensory needs are.
I urge us to all remember how we were initially instructed about autism: we were trained to believe autism is a deficiency that needs adjustment, instead of a processing difference that needs support, especially for those of us struggling to understand an autistic family member, friend, student, or client.
Fill out this form to get a free resource to understand sensory differences and stimming!
Or buy my book The Case of Sensational Stimsto learn what stimming is and why it’s so important. Available online on Amazon, Barnes and Noble and Wal-Mart.
Thank you for being here. Getting curious is the first step to creating an inclusive, safe world for everyone, especially autistic people!
Albert Einstein is a theoretical physicist famous for his relativity theory and shifting human understanding of science to quantum mechanics. He lived a profound existence and is one of the few internationally recognizable scientists, despite the fact that he’s been dead for decades. He was also very likely autistic.
It seems odd how autistic people are described by neurotypicals. Autistic individuals are often exceptional thinkers and wonderful humans. They also have flaws, as every human has. Biographer Walter Isaacson, after explaining his echolalia, “tantrums” and “inability to form a true bond” with his father, noted, “still, he was able to display empathy.”
For much of Einstein’s life, he worked even as World Wars threatened his life, as his first marriage crumbled, as his second son struggled with health issues his entire life and all the other issues that are typical of the human experience.
If an autistic person is on the level of Einstein’s achievements, neurotypicals often seem doubtful that he could be neurodivergent because he is so successful.
But even in his day he was deeply misunderstood by those who looked at him from a distance, and even a few close to him. It’s this misunderstanding that causes so much unnecessary harm. This post seeks to positively clarify how autism presents and uses Einstein as a prime example to celebrate the beauty and power of the autistic mind.
Einstein was so successful BECAUSE of his autistic mind.
Why do people Einstein was autistic? Here are 10 facts:
From an early age it was noted that he displayed echolalia, which is when a word/sound/or phrase is repeated. Many people do this because it is soothing (like when someone is humming a song just for fun- that’s echolalia). It is especially common for autistic people.
2. Early on he also had many speech difficulties and would “practice” how he would say things with a mental script of sorts. Scripting is also common for autistic people.
3. It was noted in letters from family members that he had “the inability to form a true bond with his father”, which is something that people have long accused autistic people of: not being able to connect with others (which is wrong). It is probably more correct to say that autistic children often bond in ways different compared to a neurotypical child.
4. He had tantrums that caused multiple nannies to quit. These were probably not tantrums, but meltdowns caused by prolonged sensory/emotional overload. Later, as a grown person it was discovered that he had a slight allergy to wool. Several fans gifted him sweatshirts. He wore them often. He also didn’t like socks, which is also common for autistic people with heightened tactile sensory issues. He often appeared disheveled because he didn’t like to comb his hair (another sign of a sensory issue) and needed to wear comfortable clothing.
5. He was forgetful of items all through his life and depended on family and friends to help him get what he needed, especially when travelling. What’s interesting is that Einstein found people who did not chide him for this, but simply helped him when he needed it.
6. He loved sailing on water and could do so independently for hours. He never brought a life jacket or motor, even though he could not swim and lived before cell phone technology. A common autistic trait is finding deep peace looking at or being in/around water, even if it presents danger. Perhaps this is one reason why he is noted as saying, “I never think of the future. It comes soon enough.”
7. His grandparents knew he was “quirky” but noted that he was just as beloved as any other child. Einstein’s family was especially devoted to him. There never appears to have been a time when his family members tried to change him despite his “quirkiness”, which I think is a rarely discussed monumental advantage of Einstein’s and why he was able to find supportive people all throughout his life. Many autistic people are taught the way they are is “wrong”.
8. He also had severe gastrointestinal issues as an adult, another common trait of autistic people. He struggled to cook on his own (which is not uncommon for neurodivergent people).
9. His second wife nursed him back to health when he lost significant amounts of weight due to stomach problems. Their love was unusual and unconventional compared to others, (they were cousins, too), but they offered each other what they could; their love was mutual and genuine.
10. He loved music and he played the violin for fun. It helped him express emotions and work through challenging issues. Part of his genius was discovering the order of the universe, and music no doubt is proof of that.
Music is universal in how it helps with these things, but neurodivergent people who struggle to verbalize often use music as a means of communication. He played with his sons as a way of connecting with them.
It was his ability to get lost in deep thought, in music, nature, and science, regardless of deeply worrying circumstances sometimes surrounding him, which led to breakthroughs the world had never previously known.
If these facts don’t sound like an autistic person, then I don’t know what does.
Einstein had incorruptible skepticism and independence from others. Despite dozens of teaching rejections he continued his pursuit of the theory of relativity. He was even denied the job of being a high school math tutor early on in his career. He also was given credit for helping create the atom bomb, even though he tried very much to avoid use of this type of weapon for moral and ethical reasons. He worked diligently to have scientists and policy makers talk before using such a weapon, but to no avail. Political leaders dismissed his quest for international cooperation and peace as “wooly headed and naive” and almost “childlike” in his requests. Some called him a communist.
The irony of being the man responsible for the bomb and also attacked an not intelligent enough to understand the politics of humans is not lost on me. His final years on earth were used to try to right the wrongs of such use of force. This type of impossibility had frustrating, but Einstein didn’t appear to waste time being mad about it. .
This is a similar situation that autistic people face on a regular basis. For example being accused of knowingly breaking some social customs because they’re “too smart” to not know, but then are infantilized and not considered smart enough to make personal choices for themselves.
He continued on despite what others would have likely used as evidence they were not worthy enough. This is another key indicator he was autistic: what social pressure would have broken an neurotypical’s resolve was almost inconsequential to him; it didn’t occur to him to be meaningfully bothered by someone else’s judgement!
In the early days of Einstein’s rise to the stardom, many anti-Semitic scientists accused him of being a disrupter with no respect for the work of Newton and other accepted “truths” in the scientific world. Einstein’s work towards the truth, despite the hatred hurled towards him is precisely what makes Einstein so magnificent. Also, autistic people seem to have a keen advantage in this realm of social dynamics.
Einstein had intense focus and unending interest in thought experiments. He was unaffected by social expectations and his entire life he refused to conform to authority’s expectations merely because they were the authority.
What usually can psychologically crush a neurotypical is a non-issue for an autistic person. Don’t get me wrong: autistic can people notice when others are rude and disrespectful, they just don’t let it affect who they are. It is not their concern. This is a gift to be cherished!
Perhaps Einstein was very aware of things he could possibly change, and things he could not. He was clear on his passions and tended to them. He loved his family, and also accepted there were issues in his family that he had no control over, like other people’s life decisions. Is this a weakness or a strength?
It is time we began to talk about autistic strengths on a global level. This neurotype is the kind that revolutionizes the world, if only we support autistic people at a young age. One way to do so is to learn from #actuallyautstic people. Google it. It’s a thing. Refuse any work that attempt to stifle or eradicate autism.
Einstein’s behaviors and unique processing are reasons why he was not only one of the world’s greatest scientists, but also why he was a formidable social justice advocate in a time where people like him were being hunted by Nazis.
Einstein understood his gifts and limitations. He said of himself, “I have no special talent. I am only passionately curious.”
Foster passionate curiosity in your children, especially your autistic ones!
Follow this blog or @sensationalstims, or read my book The Case of Sensational Stims to get tips about autism support and empowerment.
I cannot count how many parents have messaged me about this question. It’s so many that keeping track would depress me.
Some parents approach their child’s neurology almost like “the birds and the bees” talk. It feels weird and awkward. But of course, your child’s neurology is not something that should be awkward or a source of fear or shame. Why is it though? I mean, we would never fear telling a child she was diabetic or epileptic- NOT knowing those things causes more issues. The same is true for autism.
Some parents fear telling their child will limit them in some way; almost like uttering this truth will unleash some kind of power over the child. These parents treat sharing their child’s autism diagnosis like characters in Harry Potter reacted to the name “Voldemort”.
This kind of makes sense to me.
Many parents are scared of what autism really means. They don’t know what to do about it, but they know it’s there.
To call autism by its name somehow gives it more power, maybe?
And maybe by not calling it by name, a child won’t be so “autistic-y”.
I say that tongue in cheek- but it baffles me how conflicted parents get about this.
I told my child when he was about 4 because that’s when I first realized he is perfectly fine the way he is. I wished I had told him sooner. If you know and your child is much older, please do not fret. But take a moment, read the rest of this post, and then tell them!
I started by explaining stimming because that’s how I noticed my child had a different processing system; it was my clue he might be autistic. I didn’t know what stimming was until an autistic adult shared it with me.
Stimming is how a person physically regulates their body when there is a lot of external input. It might be rocking, hand flapping, echolalia, galloping, etc. It explained so much about my child; everything fell into place after that.
I realized that my son stims a certain way when it’s too loud. He stims differently when he’s excited about something. He stims another way when he is anxious. My son is mostly verbal, but when he is feeling big feelings, he really struggles to articulate his needs. His stims are not random or arbitrary, they are my clue to assist him when he isn’t verbal.
So to answer the question of how to tell your child they’re autistic I say: start with stimming.
Explain what stimming is to your child (and any of their siblings). I wrote a book about it called The Case of Sensational Stims and it’s on Amazon now. Demonstrate how you stim (because you probably do), but explain that it’s very important for your autistic child because their brain processes information in a particular way. Their particular way has a name.
Their mind is autistic and those who aren’t autistic are called allistic. We all process information a bit differently. No one type is better or worse, they’re just different and we need to honor everyone’s brain (or neurology).
Boom. You did it!
Then… you keep lines of communication open.
No, you don’t need to talk about it every day, but make sure you say the word autism. There’s not one thing to be ashamed of. Your child was born with a phenomenal mind.
Ask your child(ren) what autism means to them. Learn from them. Learn with them, Coach them. And remember, autism presents differently in every person. Stims evolve over time. Some things that used to be hard get easier and vice versa.
The best way to start is to figure out why it feels so uncomfortable for the parent. It’s usually because they don’t know much. Learn from #acutallyautistic people and buy my book on stimming on Amazon. It’s a great way to get started, if I do say so myself. 😉
*Disclaimer- I wrote this in 2019 but got the courage to make it public in 2021. Progress!*
I wish there was a special handshake for parents and allies of special needs kids. Something subtle, but noticeable that shows, “I understand what I am witnessing and I am cool with it, and you. I come as a friend.” It would need to be something that is appropriate in all cultures, so it could work on an international scale. Something inviting, like the Star Trek Vulcan salute, or a wink or something. It would really make our lives a lot easier.
This post is a chronicle of a social excursion for me, a parent of an autistic child. I write it to commiserate with other special needs parents, and perhaps help others understand (especially teachers and voters) why articles like an entire graduating class giving a silent ovation for a man with autism, matter. If you find yourself rolling your eyes at headlines like that, I definitely get it. I used to be of a similar mindset. I mean, inclusion is cool, but that isn’t how the world works, right? How in the world is not clapping for one kid a big deal? And why should we not clap? Everything is much better than it used to be. This kind of stuff is going too far. What’s next? Who cares?
Also, this is not written because I feel bad for my son or need to identify with being a “special needs parent” to feel special myself. I don’t. He’s perfect just as he is. I simply and firmly believe that there is no such thing as “other people’s kids”. We belong to each other.
I want to try to explain why you should care, but it’s a nuanced answer that is best explained with a recent, actual outing. Though we’ve come extraordinarily far, the bar set before things like the Americans with Disabilities Act was set extremely low. If you want to learn more about our country and the world’s relationship with special needs people, please read this incredible book. But today is just a brief insight into one family’s daily life, continue on.
Yesterday we went to the library to return some books when we unexpectedly arrived at the exact same start time of the reptile show. Reptiles are a favorite of my kids, but especially for my son who is on the autism spectrum. It’s been my experience that autism is generally misunderstood for a variety of reasons, but one main reason is that it presents so differently in each autistic person. For my kid, one volume and types of noises, textures, and lights often cause sensory overload for him. This is so not just for autistic people but for many others who have any kind of sensory sensitivity or processing disorder.
Since it was a Thursday afternoon, I felt like it was even better because the place surely wouldn’t be that crowded, making it simpler for my child to succeed in this setting with fewer sensory stimuli.
Except for today, the room was packed.
I took a deep breath. While I am thrilled that a public library was bursting at the seams midweek, I am still very weary of how my son will respond in crowded settings. I am not quite as on edge as last year, when he entered a general education kindergarten class. I worried extensively about elopement and social trauma, but it went about as well as it could. Life is starting to get a little easier.
It’s a tricky thing to be a parent of an autistic child. There’s a unique paradox that only the parents seem to know: on one hand we are so proud of our brave, resilient child, but also so fearful of the inevitable cruelty that will cross our child’s path. We all cope with this differently, but I find myself on daily alert for brutality towards my child. I also remind myself that everything, even cruelty, is a learning experience. I still get nervous when we attend social events, but am not deeply anxious anymore. This is not just because I understand that if I only look for cruelty, that is what I will find, but also because he practices a lot with trained professionals like speech therapists and occupational therapists outside of the normal school day.
Most kids sat on the floor of the retile show and parents sat in the back. The presenter was pretty funny, and made jokes throughout as he educated kids and parents.
Though nervous to let him be on the floor with his neurotypical sister but I decided, “I’ve got to learn to let him do this stuff, it’s the only way he will learn.”
The first half of the show he figuratively hit it out of the park- I couldn’t believe how well he did sitting on his bottom, listening and raising his hand. “Just like a regular kid”, I thought proudly.
Someone else arrived partway through the show. A beautiful little girl, maybe about 5 or 6, who walked right through the crowd and up front to the reptile presenter. She showed no concern for the others around her. The presenter frequently had to ask her, in front of everyone, to sit down, to stop touching his reptile containers or the reptiles themselves. She walked around touching other kids’ heads near the end of the show.
I don’t know this child, but I’ve seen this kind of behavior before. My son is built with a motor that prevents him from being able to stay seated very long. He has never finished a meal without getting up multiple times. Sometimes he gets lost in his thoughts and forgets what he is supposed to be doing. His compulsive need to touch interesting things make for some very awkward apologies when I explain to the middle-aged woman standing in line why my kid put his hand up her shirt. Because of my experience, I realized the way this little girl was behaving was not that of a naughty child, it was of a person who has special needs. Without raising a child like mine, I know I would have judged this mother to be negligent and this child to be willfully disobedient. In fact, even with my personal experience, I began to wonder why the mom didn’t just grab her kid and hold on to her after the fourth or fifth warning by the presenter. This was social suicide for her kid, and frankly, a bit disruptive.
The mom stayed in the back and watched this happen. I must give kudos to the presenter, because he had every right to ask the mother take her “disobedient” kid out. He didn’t do that, but I could understand how he probably wanted to. I wonder how many times this mother and child got dirty looks and judgmental statements hurled at them.
I couldn’t help but wonder if she knew she could get help to allow her daughter a better life experience. Maybe she did know and this is just what it looks like right now. Maybe she is in total denial? No, I saw how this little girl was dressed and groomed; this is a devoted, engaged mother who does understand society. But when I looked at the mom, she didn’t look disappointed in her daughter. She saw everything her child was doing, and didn’t spend her energy attempting to look disappointed to please the people she knew were looking at her, like I usually do. I was equally impressed by her, and ashamed of myself for moments earlier mentally congratulating my child for appearing “regular”.
I was also reminded of another thought I had only moments earlier about my child and wondered if she had the same thought about hers: “I’ve got to learn to let him do this stuff, it’s the only way he will learn.” Maybe that’s where this mother was, too. If so, she had way more grit than I have. I would have pulled the plug on the social outing way sooner.
We have come a long way from the old days of locking up children with special needs, or attempting to beat their “bad” behavior out of them. It was not that long ago where society as a whole believed children could be born defective, and though we usually didn’t murder them, we found it socially acceptable to lock them up in facilities that would halt anyone else’s “progress” by being slowed down by another. If you do not believe me about our history with people with special needs, please read In a Different Key. We still have a long ways to go before we can say we are a totally inclusive society, and even though it doesn’t always feel like it, our culture has made tremendous strides in a positive direction.
This child’s behavior was really hard to watch; it’s tempting to remove her from the situation. But each time we remove someone with special needs from the group, we prevent social progress because we prevent inclusion. At the reptile show, her awkward interjections made us go a bit more slowly, but there was a lot of learning happening. No, not just for this one child, but for the entire group, though I am not sure if the entire group knew. We were learning not just about reptiles, but also about patience, compassion, and empathy. As a teacher, I now think about how often we stop learn “in the moment” learning because it’s awkward and feels super slow and off-task. But I realize now how important slowing down is. It is no waste- it’s a valuable investment.
Deep down, and I am ashamed to admit this, I was a little relieved that it wasn’t my kid this time. This behavior is what my six year old’s social outings used to frequently look like, though he still does socially unacceptable things. However, for the first time in a long time, I got to be the objective onlooker and I noticed this child didn’t hurt anyone. She responded to the presenter each time. It was awkward and slowed us down, but we all still enjoyed the show, and she got to be a part of the group. There were lots of awkward, cringe-worthy moments, but it all worked out.
One interesting fact: to date, nobody has died of an awkward situation.
Sometimes I wish I could just go places with a big, light up billboard right over my head that said, “My son is autistic, that’s why”. I would turn it on whenever that cringe-worthy thing happened. Like when he raised his hand to go up and hold the python with a group of kids. I noticed he put his hands in his pockets, which was probably because he really wanted to hold up his shirt and bite it (but I told him earlier during the show he cannot do that and have told him this what feels like millions of times). I was proud of him for finding something else to do with his hands, but then the presenter told him to get his hands out to hold the snake, he wouldn’t do it. We made eye contact, and I gestured for him to put out his hands. Reluctantly, he took out his hands. He held up the end of the snake with glee, but I know he was mitigating the desire to squeal, flap his hands, and probably bite something because he was so elated. Though it took him a bit longer, he responded to the request. His progress makes me proud and breaks my heart. He has to do this every single day. And also, why can’t he just flap his hands? Who cares?!
My little boy loves to make jokes and he knew that this presenter was very funny. When his time was over, the presenter told the kids to sit down. He wanted to be silly with the reptile expert, but struggles to know when and where this is appropriate. After a few failed attempts to make the presenter giggle, he finally took his seat. At least he wasn’t doing what the little girl was doing, which was getting up again and attempting to touch his basket containing a lizard. I believe the distraction helped people not judge my kid so harshly for doing “weird” things.
After the show, we went to the children’s reading area where I ran into a respected administrator in my school district. He was there with his four perfectly behaved children. I introduced him to my kids, my neurotypical daughter said “hello”. My neurodiverse kid reached out to shake his hand, then told him he doesn’t shake hands, then offered “knuckles”, then shook his hand anyway, then told him to do knuckles, then he closed his hand over the administrator’s hand, then wandered to the back of the reading room.
*cringe*
I wish I had that light up billboard right then. But awhile ago I decided to no longer explain to people that my child was on the autism spectrum whenever something like this happened because: 1. I don’t think many people actually know what that explanation means and 2. I know that he notices EVERYTHING, even things cannot be seen. When I act disappointed in the way he is, I am sending him a powerful message that who he is isn’t right or good. I know I get a lot wrong, but I’ll be damned if my kid gets this message from his mother. That’s what advertisements and social media are for. Also, my kid loves to make jokes. This greeting, in hindsight, was actually pretty funny. Why can’t I just celebrate that in the moment?
We finally went to the back of the children room where the mother with her little girl were reading. The mom was struggling to get her to hold onto a book and look at it, something my son still struggles with, too. I noticed the mom spoke to her in Spanish, and the little girl answered in English. I was impressed by their bilingual exchange. I wanted to go say hello to the mother, but I didn’t know how to do it and wondered if she was fluent in English. I knew some Spanish, but if I was going to connect, I feared my Spanish skills wouldn’t get the job done (this is why we need a special handshake!!!).
I wanted her to know I understood the behaviors I was witnessing and that I thought her little girl was great. I tried to make eye contact to at least offer a smile, but it seemed the mother either didn’t notice me, or didn’t want to even go there, which I totally understand. This mom would have no way of knowing if I was friend or foe. I’ve been chastised by a perfect stranger for “neglecting” my child who was behaving in a socially inappropriate way. I’ll never forget it and would never want someone to experience that either. I suspect this mother has had this happen to her more than a few times.
Social outings are extremely exhausting for me even now with how much progress we have made. I know they are exhausting for my son too, and usually he goes to his room and lays down with his animals when he is done.
Children with special needs like my kid try so hard every single day, and succeed often. And they fail sometimes, too. Because they are children and learning. Because they have special needs. Because they are human beings. We push children with disabilities way harder than typical children. If I were my son I would hate to always have to make behavioral adjustments and mask who I am because society as a whole will fundamentally misunderstand me.
But how do I change this reality? This is the paradox of raising a neurodiverse child: you know they are brilliant and awesome exactly as they are, but they do need to respond in a socially appropriate way to the world around them if they ever want to thrive and have a chance at independence. There needs to be a way to explain briefly to people things like sensory overloads so people quit judging the wrong darn thing. Behaviors that are demonstrating a sensory overload need support not moral judgement. The worst part is that the ignorant onlooker seems to be the ultimate factor in determining if a child like mine is worthy of inclusion. This judgement is why autistic people are more likely to be apprehended by law enforcement, even when not breaking the law. People often do not know what autism actually looks like in regular life and the amount of trauma it inflicts on innocent people is one of the most despicable things I can think of. This fact is why you see autism awareness stuff EVERYWHERE; parents like me are scared. And we’re tired. And we are dependent on you to help our kids (and our autistic kids who become autistic adults, too!). And often, we parents aren’t even the autistic people! Can you imagine how they must feel?
I wish people could also consider what happens before the odd behavior, or at the very least what the function of the behavior is before they determine a person to be “bad”, or “weird”, or “naughty”. Right now, this is not considered to be relevant in the general population. Until that kind of thoughtfulness is pervasive in our society, kids like mine will live on the fringes. Until that day of sincere daily inclusion comes, I will keep writing to try to make the world a better place through education.
On a more basic level, I wish we had a special handshake or signal for the day to day activities to help families move through the world of parenting a child with special needs. Something that says, “I get it!”. It would help so much.
eringarciabooks 