Real talk.
I’ve been sitting on this piece for a while, so bear with me.
So I am mixed (racially).
When I was about 10, I randomly flipped on daytime television and saw some Maury or Jerry Springer or something hosting legit members of the KKK.
They were talking about “race-mixing” and how it was bad, blah blah blah.
Someone in the crowd stood up and said she was mixed. Half black, and half white. What is it that SHE should do?
Their response?
“YOU are what we are trying to prevent.”
“Mixed” people.
People like me. Because of something about me that I can not control.
That was an eye-opener for a little guy.
There are folks in this world that would prefer if I did not exist, and would prefer if everyone like me did not exist. They think I am an “abomination.”
I remember exactly how that made me feel…
…
Now. Fast forward a couple decades…
The other day on the “positive life” radio, they were fielding calls of people celebrating victories.
One lady calls in to “celebrate” that the tests came back and her son is NOT AUTISTIC!!
And they all cheered for her and congratulated her and blah blah blah…
Y’all.
My kids are both somewhere on the spectrum and were both listening
I immediately turned it off.
I spend so much time teaching my kids that our differences are part of what give us value and nothing to be ashamed of.
I was born with “different” skin color. They were born with a “different” neurology. (#ausome)
How do you think that makes my kids feel about themselves to hear that it is cause to celebrate ESPECIALLY when people find out their kids were not born like them?
That having a child with an autistic neurology is not only a ‘bad’ thing, it is something to be so abhorred, that to ‘not have an autistic child’ is cause to call in a freaking RADIO STATION to share this ‘wonderful news’ with the WORLD.
How would it make ME feel about myself?
It took me back to when I was 10… realizing that there are folks out there who believe the world would be better-off without those like me.
…”Thank God my child does not have brown skin.”
That’s what I heard.
😡😡😡
Sorry (not sorry). That 10-year-old boy in me gets super-protective and angry when I hear those same sentiments leveled at MY young kids.
“I accept people like you. I’ll be friends with people like you. I just wouldn’t ever want my KIDS to be born like you.”
I know I won’t always be able to protect my kids from the nonsense in this world, but I do my best to embrace their differences so that they always love who they are…
So When I write about my kids in reference to their neurology, or read what other people have written about ‘autism,’ sometimes I will re-read it and substitute the word “autism” with “brown skin.”
I ask myself how I would feel if my parents were to write about me (and my skin color) the same way I am writing about my kids (and their neurology)…
It makes me really consider what I am writing and how my child would read it.
(Ex: “I love you, but sometimes I hate your [brown skin.]”) 😳
(Ex: “Sometimes I see other families and their kids with [‘normal’ skin color] and I think, ‘why?’ Why can’t that be us? Why does my child have [brown skin] and theirs’ doesn’t?”)
How I see my kids is how they will see themselves, and I want my kids to love who they are.
Because the world will tell them something different.
Life ain’t fair. I know that, and it’s a lesson my kids will never need to be taught.
But damn if I don’t want to live in a world where there are people who would prefer if people like me or my child didn’t exist… or where it is cause for celebration that someone was not born…
… like me.
(Picture of me and my Ausome son)
