Well, you see, he's on a spectrum...the symptoms vary...no one person with autism is the same. And I guess the easiest way I can explain it to you is to say that my son is 4-years-old, but it's like he's 3 months."
"Gone 'head, Mom ! You betta #educateem" was the first thought to cross my mind. Because if I were in your position, I'm not sure I would have had the guts to #speakup.
I couldn't see the woman or the little boy sitting behind me, but I couldn't help but listen to what she had to say. To hear how she was about to explain autism spectrum disorder (ASD) to the people around her in a way that they could understand. She really had a way with words.
"He doesn't talk, but he'll constantly make these sounds you hear him making. He is very active; it's hard for him to sit still. He's not potty-trained either. But my other son is. He's five. And he's autistic, too. He can talk, read, and write. He does very well in school."
Oh, you got two of 'em? Ha, I feel you. Her story was getting too real for me, and by this point, I am positive that God has just set me up.
I gotta look at this woman now. Even though "looking" is probably what got this conversation started in the first place. But I could feel God speaking to me in this moment. Naw, I wasn't trying to hear what He had to say, but I was very aware of what He wanted me to do. There was this sense of urgency rising up inside of me, and it wouldn't back down for anything. Fortunately, when I turned around, her back was to me. But I could see her son, jumping up and down in the empty seats. They had to be the only two white people in here.
A few minutes later, a black woman came in and took her son home with her. Shortly after that, the mom got up and walked away. This mom, she looked like she must have been in her thirties. She walked with a cane, her face was aged from smoking.
Welp, I missed my chance, so I guess all I can do now is #pray for this mom and her boys.
But, of course, she came back. God's got a way of playing games.
She took her seat. And finally, my brother has been called to the back. This better not take long; it is WELL past time to go. So I'm sitting and I'm tweeting about all that I'm thinking as I'm sitting and waiting. And then a friend tweets me: "@LaiWrench Let God use ya !" Baha ! Real funny. But fine. Fine. I'm getting up. I have no idea what I'm about to say, but I'm bout to say something.
Hi...my name's Alaina. I heard you talking about your boys earlier, and I just wanted to tell you that both of my brothers are autistic, too. I wasn't sure how to approach you, but I felt God telling me I oughtta talk to you.
Her face softened up and her lips began to quiver. And she just started talking. And boy, did she have a lot to say. She told me about her boys, about her fears. She was here to get tested for AIDS because she was raped just five days ago. She was scared out of her mind because if something were to happen to her, who would watch over her sons?
"I don't trust them with just anybody. People don't understand, and they get impatient and they hit them or make fun of them. And my younger one, he can't speak. I'm afraid that he was molested at school, but I'll never know because he can't tell me. Every time he tries to communicate with me, he just gets so frustrated because he can't get his words out. I am trying to be a good mom. Give them everything they need, but I'm young - I'm only 25, and I don't have anybody helping me except that lady you saw take my son away. But she's got kids with kids and she's trying to get them through school. I don't want to burden her. But it would be nice to have somebody to talk to. About what I can expect, about what I can do. Since your brothers are older than my sons and you've lived with this all your life, maybe you can help me. I just need to talk to someone who understands. And if you don't mind, maybe you could watch my boys? I don't know many people out here. I'm from Louisiana. We're Hurricane Katrina victims."
It's crazy I was gonna walk up out of here without saying one word to you. How selfish am I.
She started to give me all the perks of her home and the neighborhood in which she lived...like I needed to be convinced to watch her sons.
"$10 an hour. I live in a nice house. We have very friendly dogs...but if you don't like dogs, I can put them outside. We have a nice TV that you can watch and I have food for you to eat. If you don't drive, I can pick you up. And my boys love black people. I'm the only white caregiver they have."
#Pause. I don't need an incentive to help you out. And it hurts me that maybe you're just not used to people serving out of their love for God. There's nothing you can say that would make me want to help you any more or any less.
"I wanted a little girl. The doctor told me that autism is genetic, and all my children would have it - unless I had a girl. But I couldn't take that chance. I got my tubes tied when I was 21. Are you the only girl?"
I am the only girl, but whoever told you that ALL your sons would be autistic LIED to you.
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"You know, I went to church last Sunday. I really heard God speaking to me. And I feel like this is no accident, you being here. You are such a blessing, and I thank God that you came and talked to me. And I think it's great what you're doing in school. People like me need more people like you. People to give them hope."
May 4, 2011.
