I often wonder how she feels.
She knows about the book. She knows we love her more than anything. But she also knows that others are not so kind or open minded.
Aside from those who don’t get or don’t believe that Asperger’s is, there are those who devote exhausting amounts of time and money analyzing every single angle of it.
And I wonder how it makes her feel.
Some are fantastic, and I have the utmost respect for Dr. Tony Attwood, who not only has grand intellect, but also a heart for both the subject of Asperger’s and those who are on the autism spectrum, themselves. And meeting him is a grand honor I cherish, and knowing he’s read the book keeps me motivated at times.
But others seem to lack that spirit, and, oddly enough, act as those whom they claim to study – without emotion or connection, seeing kids like mine as nothing more than lab rats in the process.
And I don’t want her to read their thoughts. I want to shield her from them.
Because I know how I would feel if it was me.
Funny thing, those dedicated to analysis often look at everything but the heart and soul of the target.
My kid can read. My kid can cry. My kid can get angry.
No, this isn’t directed at anyone in particular. But it’s a reminder that when we all post this, that, and the other thing about Asperger’s and High Functioning Autism, let’s keep in mind to steer clear of talking about “them” as if "they" are subhuman. Finding a “fix” to behaviors that are simply different, not wrong or immoral. Dissecting their behaviors as if we are in a high school biology class, using blunt tools and a lack of respect for much of anything but getting a passing grade.
“They” are people, too. People with heart, and who deserve to have us look past their faces into their souls, for they are there.
And I know how she feels. She feels like a human. She IS human. She wants to be loved, respected, and have people she can honestly consider friends. She wants to be accepted for who she is.
And she is not a species under a microscope. She is not a “freak”. She has so much to offer her generation and ours, even. And she will do it.
She’s in skinny jeans, sitting in school, preparing herself for life on her own.
And, most importantly, she’s my daughter, and if I could choose to take away her Asperger’s, I wouldn’t. It is what makes her who she is.
And she would agree.
In fact, she’s told me that, herself.