The other day I was stuck in line next to what appeared to be a lovely older woman about my mom’s age. She wore her wispy ginger colored hair in a bob, not from style but more from resignation. We were standing there forever, and had an opportunity to talk, the I saw her Facebook photos of her dog kinda time. In the course of our discussion I mentioned my children. She had grandchildren, and we chatted about the similarities and differences between siblings. At some point I stated my son has Autism, to which her reply shut me down. A phenomena that does not happen often.
“I’m so sorry.” She whispered in a hushed tone, turning to glance out the window.
Time stood still.
There was no answer that came to my mind.
Did this woman just APOLOGIZE for my son having Autism?
He’s amazing. And not just amazing, but FUCKING AMAZING.
But my mind didn’t register a response, I stood there clinging my worn backpack in my hands searching the confines of my mind to say something other than a profanity laden rant. I paused, and then I made a calculated decision to NOT put this woman in her place. That choice was based upon the certainty that her statement was not made with malice but pure ignorance.
This saddens me.
There is enough evidence in the world to support the wonder of children with Autism, their strong sense of right or wrong is one of my favorite things about Autism. There is a 1 in 68 chance (CDC 2014) of having a child who falls on the rainbow somewhere. (I choose to see the spectrum as a rainbow of spectacular colors demonstrated in variances of one shade to another). Surely this person has crossed paths with an autistic child, even if they didn’t know it.
Could I have chosen to educate her, yes, but the truth is I wouldn’t have educated her I would have sliced into her with my tongue like a knife. I would have spewed anger instead of education, hostility instead of hope. My words would have not done anything to advance Autism, but instead would have hurt it.
If I could go back to that moment, now that I have had an opportunity to calm down I wish I had told her that yes Autism can be trying, but so can every other step of parenting. That my path has led me to learn to not change the boy, but to change myself. That I am a stubborn woman who has learned to follow the river through the meandering bends, not knowing what is around the corner. That sometimes the straight path is not the right path, and that the water all flows to the same point, it’s just how we get there that’s different.
I should have shared with her how I was afraid of the water, after having been caught in an undertow as a child, but because this persistent amazing child wouldn’t take no for an answer his mom learned to scuba dive because he wanted to, he needed to. I should have told her how this child has made me a better person, has opened the world for me, not the other way around. That as a parent when he was born I pledged to bring him opportunities and excitement in his life, but the reality is he has brought it to me. I should have told her that because of him I have learned what the world has to offer, I have seen the good and the bad and the truth is, there is more good. My son is surrounded by people who love him, support him, and buoy him.
I should have told her to open her eyes and look around, she is surrounded by people who live on the rainbow, and they are doing remarkable things. They are the brains behind some of the greatest things this world has to offer, the innovations, the designs, the ideas. Autism is not a curse, but a gift, for my child and for me.
But you know what I really wanted to tell her?
“Fuck you lady.”
(This post originally ran on The Shitastrophy)
About the author: Originally from NJ, Alyson Herzig lives in the Midwest but has kept her sarcastic cynical Jersey attitude. She has been described as the Andy Rooney of Stay-at-Home Moms. You can find her writing about the many disasters and humorous observations of her life at TheShitastrophy.com. Alyson has had essays published in numerous books, including the NY Times Bestselling series I Just Want to Be Perfect and I Still Just Want to Pee Alone. She has contributed works to The Huffington Post, The Mighty, Good Housekeeping, and other fine online venues. Follow her on: Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, and Google+.