Twice, TWICE in as many weeks, people have asked J. that question. The first time was a student and this last was a stranger on the streetcar. J. and Isaac were riding along, happily snuggled up, when an odd, possibly homeless, possibly mentally ill man asked Isaac his name. And Isaac answered him. And then the guy turned to Jesse. "Is he autistic?" "He's on the spectrum," J. allowed, trying to be minimally polite without encouraging any further conversation. The guy continued anyway. "Yeah, I have a relative who's autistic. They're all God's beautiful children..." And he started to sing a little tune to himself. J. turned away and tuned out.
The worst part, he told me later, was that they were just sitting there. And Isaac talked to a total stranger. And the guy still knew.
This thing of knowing, of being reminded we're different--it's still hard. I've been talking to a lot of my friends with special kids lately, and so many of us struggle with this. We love and appreciate our children so fully, yet we fear that the rest of the world won't get past their differences to see their many gifts and beauties. We don't want to deny their differences--in fact, they are often the source of their gifts--but we have to admit we've come to understand them gradually, with the benefit of the intimate daily knowledge that one can only have of a deeply loved friend or family member. And no, it's not fair to expect that level of insight from the strangers on the bus, or at the mall, or at the grocery store. Or, for that matter, the kindergarten you may or may not be applying to.
I am beginning to feel that the biggest, toughest gift we can give our children is to help others see that special needs are nothing to be awkward about or afraid of--to see our quirky, unique kids more through our eyes. And that means we have to fight the fear that someone will, as a wise friend recently put it to me, occasionally see our slip showing.
Okay, I admit it--I used to be uncomfortable around people with disabilities. It's as simple as that split-second question about whether to open the door for someone in a wheelchair: is it a basic courtesy, or might they think that I'm being condescending and assuming they're helpless? I used to worry a lot about that--about how to act and what to do. And obsess afterwards: was I respectfully nonchalant, or did I just look like an ass? I had no idea. But one thing I know now: all that awkwardness is just...gone. Poof!
The guy on the streetcar? He saw the slip. I don't know how, I don't know why. I don't think it much matters. Every day for the rest of our lives, some people will get a peek, lace and all, and probably just as many will miss it. But I am trying, trying not to care.
But..not to undermind what you wrote...shouldn`t we be glad that some people know at least sth about autism?
It happened to me twice when I was with Isaac that, one time a lady and one time a man had no idea why Isaac was behaving the way he was and they said something about him being not well mannered...they had NO CLUE that he simply might be on spectrum and is just having a meltdown..
Posted by: Beata | November 15, 2007 at 07:19 PM
I know. I try not to care too. But sometimes I do.
It's like anything else. We want to connect. I like to recognize other people who are arts people, who struggle with weight, who are minorities - whatever. We want that connection.
We see ourselves in each other. You're right. It's like "gaydar" - we know our own. I don't think the rest of the world recognizes our kind as much as we see each other.
The recognizing? It passes. He blends. The funny part is that 99.9% of the world really doesn't care that our kids are autistic. (Maybe that's part of the problem with the world)
It's hard. As I shared with you, when Miss M was 3 1/2, and was recognized in Disneyland by another autistic family, I flipped OUT. Still shudder about my reaction.
Posted by: drama mama | November 16, 2007 at 06:32 AM
It's not the knowing that I mind so much, it's how they treat him once they know.
Posted by: Niksmom | November 17, 2007 at 07:04 PM
I think that with all the recent awareness of Autism, people are asking because they are hearing so much about it. Hopefully along with the media's awareness is that it's not the parents fault when a kid on the spectrum acts up and helps them to understand any behaviors they do see. I am finding that when my son is having a meltdown if I mention he is on the spectrum I get more of a "oh, ok, now I understand, is there anything I can do to help" vs. a stare and glare from strangers.
Posted by: Robin | November 19, 2007 at 05:33 AM
"This thing of knowing, of being reminded we're different--it's still hard."
Maybe. We all feel how hard it can be to parent a kid who has autism. But maybe it's not that we're different, really. It's just another flavor of life--normal is what YOU know, and each person has their own version of normal.
Posted by: Gloriana Beausoleil | November 21, 2007 at 08:58 AM