I follow a lot of Autism-specific blogs, sites, click baits, etc. And I’ve read a million different “what not to say” to parents of children with Autism articles and in the early days of the “Take That, Autism!” Facebook page, I made a crazy lady snapchat video about it too. Out of sheer exasperation. Nonetheless, I decided to make my own “what not to say” article…but with alternatives of what TO say instead because it’s obnoxious to complain about something but not do anything to fix it. Note- this list specifically targets the initial meeting when I first reveal to you my son has Autism. Cause the dumb stuff people say in other contexts is another post for another day 😉
- “I’m sorry!” Legit, this is the worst. Someone only said this to me one time but it took me back because it was someone who was in charge of running an entire facility for children with Autism so it just made me wanna slap my forehead. My child is happy, healthy, intelligent, and generally hilarious. If I were bolder, I’d have asked what the heck it was exactly she was sorry for. Alternative? Just acknowledge what I said with a general affirmation. You may even ask me how he’s doing. But I don’t want your pity. Just your understanding.
- “He doesn’t look autistic”/”Are you sure he has Autism?” This is a repeat player on lists like these. I do not want my child to have Autism. Autism is not something I enjoy. It is painful to see my child struggle every single day. Please believe, when I say he has Autism, it is to state a fact, not to make a wish. Alternative? Keep your mouth shut.
- “How autistic is he?”/”Is your son more or less autistic than ___?” 1. I hate “autistic”. I’m not known for my political correctness, but in this particular context, please use people-first language. Tangent over. 2. What the what does that even mean? That one happened to me just last week and I didn’t even know what to say. Did the DSM make an “As autistic as ____” rating scale no one told me about? Like how arbitrary would that even be ?!?!? “Oh sure, Caleb is as autistic as a tyrannosaurus but not as autistic as a spotted lynx.” This inquiry makes 0% sense so follow in the way of the tyrannosaurus on this one and make it an extinct question to ask.
- “Does he talk?” Do you poop? Do you brush away your stank morning breath? Because as the parent of a child who is non-verbal, that’s how personal this question is for me. Just freaking ask me how he’s doing in a general, overall sort of way and it’s likely I’ll tell you anyways!
- “Oh! My cousin/nephew/baby mama’s great uncle twice removed has Autism, too!” Ok, ok…I won’t hate on this one too much because I appreciate the sentiment behind it. People want to try and relate so they can connect and people only do that when they truly care about you. Just please understand that knowing a child on the spectrum simply means you know a child on the spectrum. You don’t know MY child. But please, always feel free to tell me about your coworker’s sister-in-law’s next door neighbor who has a 3rd cousin with Autism. I jest! For real, I like to hear about EVERYBODY’s story.
- “You’re so awesome!” No, I’m not. I do not need a cookie, much less a trophy. I’m simply doing my job as his parent. Parents are supposed to take care of their children, meet their needs, and set them up for success. My child happens to take extra effort, have more needs, and the road to successes takes longer but despite that, at the end of the day, I’m simply doing my job. I’m not that fantastic but my kid is the bomb diggity, ya’ll.
Now these two things are NOT “typical” responses but have in fact been said to me. To my face. And I just have to share them with you because they are THAT B-A-N-A-N-A-S.
“Nah, he doesn’t have Autism. One day he’s just going to grow up and be weird. Like his dad.”
Did you reread it 3 times? You read it correctly. Someone for real thought that was ok to say. I watch a lot of Jean-Claude Van Damme movies and stuff like this makes me wanna straight up bust out my Bloodsport fighting skills. I KNOW about the kumite, peeps.
“Well I used to work with kids with Autism in an institution and I decided not to have children because I was afraid God would send me a child like the ones I worked with.”
Is it 1832? Did the DeLorean take your professional experience and your manners back a couple centuries? Ya’ll tell me where these institutions are and I’ll get my pitchfork ready.
Maybe that’s helpful to you. Maybe not. Maybe, at least, I gave you a late night chuckle after a stressful day. Whatever you do or don’t say….just be kind.
Love and Autism,