It’s obvious he has autism. For the most part, the
people in his world are kind to him. As
we walked out into the parking lot, Andrew skipping and vocalizing, another boy
approached, walking towards Mario's. He appeared about Andrew’s
age and was also with his mom. He was autistic and, just as obvious, he was very
happy. An autism mom can spot a fellow
autism/special needs mom a mile way; she and I passed each other with friendly “hellos”, a
nod of understanding, and knowing smiles.
She is one of my people, those in this world who I feel comfortable
with, sometimes without even knowing. The acceptance
of autism in our community is not as enlightened as I would have hoped it would be in 2015 when Andrew
was diagnosed in 2001. For the many kind
folks who accept Andrew and don’t really think twice about his stereotypical
behaviors in Market Basket or while walking into the mall, there are those who
stare and make fun of him. Recently, a
local teen and her friend called him a retard and pronounced him “funny to
watch because he’s so stupid”.
I may often sound confident, and even look it, but it's been a lonely road. Single parenting a child very affected by autism is rarely easy, but has these wonderful moments of joy, too. Mostly it's a winding path...
I may often sound confident, and even look it, but it's been a lonely road. Single parenting a child very affected by autism is rarely easy, but has these wonderful moments of joy, too. Mostly it's a winding path...
You can’t fix stupid- or ignorant. Andrew is learning and growing because people
around him care about his success. He
has started bowling one afternoon a week. He’s gone to a Celtics game and out to dinner, all with the recreation arm of
his school programming.
For the first time in many years, he really wants to have friends, yet he is still learning how that process works, how to be appropriate with other kids, how to take another’s perspective, and, most painful, that most teenagers aren’t enamored with Build-A-Bears and Snoopy.
The old adage of “if you’ve met one person with autism, you met
one person with autism” rings clearer than ever. Seeing Andrew with his classmates at lunch in
the school cafeteria, as I was secretly thrilled to have to opportunity to do, painted a new canvas of the life of my boy. He has, finally, has found “his people”. These kids sat together, talked a bit, yet
were all more interested in their food than chatting about the weather or
Patriots. School "lunch bunches" be
damned, the boys focused on eating, making a few comments here and there. They were also HAPPY.
Andrew now has peers who he connects with in small ways. He is working on making more meaningful connections as he learns HOW to. These teenagers are part of his community. They might even be his friends.
The mom in the parking lot is part of my community. The parents
waiting for their kids to come home from a Celtics game which celebrated Best Buddies, or the
Enchanted Village, with this fabulous recreation program. Parents who have walked the path for years,
who are confident in their child and their parenting of him to bring him out to lunch, a place where
in reality people might stare.
We moms don’t care. We want our
children to experience the world- and for the world to accept our children.
Community. It’s
something Andrew has become a part of.
As an added bonus, it’s something his mom found, too.... when she wasn’t
even looking. More importantly when she didn't even know she needed it. This mom is so proud of her Boy.
