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How it works here is: all posts are free to read, but commenting is not.
This newsletter rests at the intersection of the unserious ramblings of a woman full of buttered rice and dad jokes and the somewhat sophisticated stories and essays of someone who knows just enough “smart” words to sound super intelligent and insightful.
What will today’s newsletter be? Hmm…
April held little meaning for me growing up. It was just another month, filled with more days and more nights. Sometimes we would get Easter. Sometimes we get spring rains. Flowers start to show off. Those fields of my youth were readying themselves for me to run through them open palmed with their high grass and prickly thorns.
April felt like change. This transition period. Something that differentiated winter from spring. As a Texan though, it wasn’t always obvious. We have hot and not as hot seasons. We don’t often experience “proper” seasons. But April felt like something different enough to be categorized as “new.”
But outside of this, it was just another month.
For many, many years.
I was diagnosed before levels.
Before Asperger’s was folded within Autism.
Before social media.
Before Autism Moms.
Before Neurodiversity was a mainstream movement.
Before kids.
I had no support system.
I had no movements to lean into.
There were no like minded people I could congregate with.
I spent many years on this journey alone. Growing, learning, unlearning, failing, overcoming, persevering, soaring, falling…
I watched community grow before my eyes.
And I watched it tear itself apart.
I watched factions grow. I watched lines being drawn. I watched the rise of the Autism Parent. And the anger of the Autistic adult. I watched the active erasure of my experiences.
I held no home here. And when you have no home you begin to think more deeply about the things you would love within one.
April is complicated for me because I take no issue with Awareness months. And I am bombarded with text and imagery from a community I have to constantly remind I exist, my children exist, that tells me that we are “past awareness.”
It’s complicated because a lot of their acceptance is usually just awareness done correctly. One cannot exist without the other and they don’t need to ride separate lanes. This month is frustrating because we are a community that doesn’t respect community. We are broken in many ways. For all our beauty, our ugly is strong.
I avoid social media in April, as much I can, because there’s much that I see that is not beneficial to me, even though I find it helpful to others. I am not where they are in their journey. And that is what I feel is foundational to my own advocacy. I expect those that find me to already know what Autism is. They are already connected to Autism in some way. I am not here to teach you Autism. I give no lists. No symptomatology. No colors. No banners. No slogans. No identity preferences.
None of that.
Because that is not where I am.
I am a storyteller. When I write.
And even when I don’t.
My grandma was the one who taught me to put pen to paper and that there was great power in that pen. That one day people were going to grow from seeds I plant.
I don’t need anyone’s garden. I am my own gardener.
I don’t need your tables, I am my own carpenter.
This April, I’m giving stories.
Every single day, a new story.
Pieces of my life that have meaning. Placeholders that have made me the person I am today. Moments that have served as a catalyst for change.
Stories make the best teachers. I am not here to convince you of our humanity. I am here to tell you that we are already here.
Thank you again for your beautiful words. I am neurotypical and work with yound children who are Autistic. I've jumped on the acceptance train but have found that in so many ways, awareness is still very much needed. Your point regarding awareness done right is acceptance struck me (as so much of your work does).
Safe travels this month as you visit the eastern part of the country to tell your stories. I'm looking forward to hearing you in person in June when I travel to see you in Cleveland :).