Jewish, Opinion

I Don't Have the "Autism Talk" because labels are for Soup Cans

I am Elana. I am Jewish. I am adopted. I am so much more but above are highlights of who I am. I have known these things forever. There was never a moment when I recall having been told out of the blue, “Elana, you are adopted” or “We are Jewish”.

The Talk

Not too long ago a friend of mine asked me when or how we planned to tell our daughter about her Autism. I was a little surprised that they thought it was a secret.  I have never been shy about any details of my life, my children or our living with Autism. I was parenting a child long before I had ever heard the word, and when it was finally introduced to me as a diagnosis I thought to myself “she isn't sick” this is nothing wrong with her. She lives with Autism, like I live with being adopted or being Jewish. Or being tall (5ft 10 inches).  It is a part of who I am. It is a part of my daughters. It adds to their lives and it is a part of them, forever. I know families who struggle with when to tell their children they live with Autism. I have a friend who says it in a whispered hush tone when she talks about it as if there were some shame in this.  I see it differently like I see being adopted. My daughter’s diagnosis came long after I fell in love with them. I didn’t need a word to identify them; they both already had lovely names. I didn’t need a label to define them. They are wonderful, different and mine.

Son, we have to talk

To me, the idea of sitting someone down to tell them something evokes a bad scene from a movie. Cue the sad music, mom and dad are entering the bedroom where Johnny plays happily with his cars and they say “Son, we have to talk”. Those are words you preface firing an employee with. Words to deliver grave news of someone’s health. That is not the way to explain to a child why they sometimes react differently. I have shared movies with my daughters portraying characters who live with Autism. I have read children’s stories and even written a poem for my daughter about Autism. I am not worried about them knowing, I am worried about them being limited by the label.

Being Different

My first daughter was different from the moment she was born. She was not like other babies in our playgroup and by the time preschool came, well we were worlds apart from the rest. I liked it. I thought she was remarkable, special and amazing. I still do 19 years later and I have never once sat down and said “Honey, we need to talk” she is keenly aware she is different. She has always known she was. In fact it was this daughter who led us to the diagnosis of our younger child who lives with Autism. Imagine that, we were so comfortable with one it never occurred to us we would be doubly blessed. In fact we missed it for the first 4 years almost. In this case it really takes one to know one.

Different is Better

I have always encouraged my kids to be different. To stare at the clouds and find pictures in them. To embrace themselves as they are. Different is good my father wrote in my daughters baby book in 1992, I know say “Different is better” I have not yet had “the talk” with either of our two daughters who are different. I don’t plan on ever having it. I have naturally read books on the subject, met with professionals and helped my daughter form healthy self esteem and feel good about all they can do. I am aware they are different, I see firsthand their struggles and pain that I cannot make go away. I wouldn’t change a thing about them I doubt very much they would either.

Labels are for Soup Cans

As my younger child has gone to school in the past few years I have never once identified or labeled her for the schools. I simply enrolled her. Then after we were in school I made an appointment and sat down with the teachers and administration to enlighten them to her unique abilities. I ensured she had the necessary accommodations when necessary but was always careful to suggest they get to know her and see for themselves all she can do. Labels belong on soup cans. I know I read that somewhere or heard it from someone, it is not an original idea of mine. My children, all five are remarkable woman and girls. They each have something unique about them. They are all female, all Jewish, all mine.