I'm sorry that I never thought of you, really. I carried on with my life, avoiding everything to do with you, for no other reason than I understood I had to. I didn't ask questions, or embarrass you. I was never disrespectful to you as a person, never spoke a harsh word against you. Yet, at the same time, I disrespected you as a person because I simply didn't know. It isn't an excuse, but it's the truth.As school has started all around the country, I've been forced to control my mothering instincts to keep my son out of school. I worry for him. You see things in the news, kids like him are beaten and bullied and left broken when they were once whole, happy. It breaks my heart to feel my control over his self-esteem slip away as he heads off to the bus. Will they treat him with respect? Will they see past his quirks to the beautiful heart underneath there? Will he be the same when he comes home? Thoughts of school, like that, in it's most primal and harsh way, I've come to remember my own school days (from not that long ago, either!) and I realize what I did to kids like my son. Granted, my son is not on the severe end of autism. It isn't always obvious. He looks like a handsome kid who keeps to himself, does his own thing. Yet, soon enough, everyone will realize his differences. How couldn't they? He's special. He's smart. He's hilarious. But... I was a school kid once. Once. I was a kid who was never exclusively told what autism was, or why those kids acted that way. I knew they were different. I knew that much. And I knew it meant that they didn't have to adhere to social rules because they were, well, different. It wasn't polite to ask questions either. To point out someone's disability in complete ignorance is absolutely rude, I knew that too. So, I just ignored them. I couldn't ask, I didn't know, so I sat in school, walked in the hallways, thought my thoughts, without much notice of them at all. It's horrid to realize that I was that kid in school. I was one of those kids that I hope my son doesn't encounter. What a way to make someone feel, not even visible. Just the thought hurts my heart. I wish I was more educated then! Or at least, told. Autism? I hadn't even heard of it really. It wasn't until I was in high school that I really (kind of) grasped the idea of autism in it's most basic form. Believe me, I didn't know it like I know it now. And sure, it might seem like karma to some. Perhaps it is. But I just wish that I knew. That someone told me that autism is what my classmates had, and that they were very much the same, just needed different things from the world. It would have made more sense. It wouldn't have been so unknown, so taboo to mention. I'm so grateful to know nowIt's funny to look back and realize shortcomings that didn't seem so obvious. I was not as nearly as friendly as I thought I was.... but truly, I am sorry to all those kids that I ignored, basically forgot like the papers in the bottom of my locker. It wasn't fair. Not to them. Their existence in the classrooms is a great accomplishment - one I still commend - and it should have made a difference to me. YOU, if you are reading this out there, please believe that I never meant to belittle you, or degrade any part of your life, I thought by ignoring your differences, I was being kinder. Not bringing it to light, to embarrass you. It was an immature belief. There is NOTHING wrong with being different. There is nothing wrong with having autism (or being autistic, depending on how you prefer to be termed). You were just as capable of being my friend as any other, even if it took you a bit longer to get to that point. I've been given another chance, to undo my wrongs though. My firstborn son has autism. HE made me grow up. He is the reason why I confront my ignorance head on, ready for criticism and contempt. He is the reason why I love to educate others. I try to normalize his disability, just as everyone should have done for yours. Dear parents...PLEASE. Teach your kids, NT or otherwise, that disabilities don't devalue any part of a person. They are just as capable to be a friend. They are so similar, the differences seem tiny after a while. Help break down that fear. Don't be afraid to say the word "autism". Teach them it isn't a disgusting word. It isn't bad to talk about, and understand. Stimming isn't weird, once you know what it means to them. Their lack of eye contact doesn't mean their lack of listening. Being unable to speak doesn't equate their inability to understand. It should be a conversation each parent has with a child. The younger, the better. Because it is never to early to understand that differences are just as common as similarities. Help your children grow into people who accept people like my son, a little bit off the beaten path but still going in the right direction...
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AuthorGabrielle Rae is a special needs, stay at home mommy of two boys. She enjoys reading and writing novels in her spare time. @onbothfrontsArchives
August 2018
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