The School Psychologist Asked How Long Has My Son Been "Sick" With Autism

How does that make for a safe learning environment?

My son got in trouble at school last week.

His classmates had been bothering him a lot because he doesn't behave in what they consider to be the "normal" way. They had been calling him names, teasing him, and touching him on the arms and shoulders to get him to react.

It was one of those "I'm going to bother you, and there's nothing you can do about it" kind of scenarios.

Eventually, he had enough and reacted in an explosive way. No, he didn't hit anyone, but he did scream at them and made it clear that if they kept going, he would defend himself.

Yes, the way my son reacted was not perfect, but no, it was not an irrational response, given the context.

However, there is a little detail that has heavily influenced the way the school has dealt with this issue: my son is autistic, and they are not going to forgive him for that.

This is why they decided my son would get suspended — I expected that: rules are rules — but the kids that have been bullying him did not get a drop of disciplinary action, something I strongly disagree with.

As if that wasn't enough, we were informed my son was to do nothing should the bullying persist because, most likely, the problem was not that the other kids were bothering him but that my son's autism makes him prone to violence.

Basically, we were hit by the old belief that disabled people have to be the bigger person in every situation, and they never have the right to be petty and confrontational, not even when the situation calls for it. After all, that would make them human, right?

Dear Reader, I saw red…

They had no intention of ever being prepared.

Ever since my son was a three-year-old, we have been doing the "treatment" dance from visits to neurologists to getting an MRI and, once a diagnosis was established, early intervention programs, therapy, and even getting him a shadow teacher during his elementary school years.

Every single school he has gone to demanded it. They would have not let him in otherwise.

No, it's not like they said, "We won't accept your child because he is autistic." That would be illegal. Instead, they explained they were simply not prepared to handle a child "like him," so it was in his best interest that we found a different place.

What they always left out, of course, is they had no intentions of ever being prepared.

Still, between working hard — and paying — for specific accommodations, as well as lucking out and finding a couple of places willing to at least give him a chance, my son has gotten an education in mainstream school.

Until now.

"Kids like him are angels! They are so special!"

My son is now 15. He is already 5'8" and is starting to show a bit of a beard and mustache.

He does not look like a kid anymore.

In the past, when people observed his behavior or listened to him talk, even though they weren't exactly sure what was going on, they could tell he was not neurotypical, but because he was a child, they would give him a pass, and I would get comments such as, "Kids like him are angels! They are so special!"

However, I am now aware this was part of the phenomenon of infantilizing disabled people.

You see, when disabled people are children, it is easy to see them as cute and harmless and develop a hollow kind of empathy toward them. However, it is as if, once they grow up, the rest of the community expects them to "get better" or to hide away when they fail to "improve."

Society has very little tolerance for disabled teenagers and adults. There's this belief that either they or their families didn't work hard enough to "overcome" their disability, that they are trying to get undeserved benefits, or that they did something to deserve whatever condition they "suffer" from.

Add to that, when it comes to autistic people, every day, more and more grows the belief that they are dangerous, walking ticking bombs that can go off at any moment.

And that's precisely the mindset at my son's school.

Do things the way everybody else does.

As I mentioned, my son has been in several programs to help him integrate into mainstream schools. But, as time has passed, I have realized a fundamental truth: the goal of this therapy has never really been to help him. In reality, the main objective has been to teach him how to disguise the fact he is autistic.

Every "special" needs teacher who has crossed our path has stressed the need for my son to do things the way everybody else does.

However, it's hard not to notice how everything an autistic person does gets pathologized.

A neurotypical person can click on a pen over and over again, and we'll assume they are stressed. If it gets annoying, we'll tell them to cut it off and laugh about it. But when an autistic person chooses to release their anxiety by flapping their hands, we call it stimming and point out how unusual the behavior is and try to "train" them to never do it again because it looks weird to us.

A neurotypical person can have a vast collection of toys on their desk and get called quirky. An autistic adult carefully arranges their favorite rocks in a tidy line or still remembers the names of their 30 favorite dinosaurs, and this is labeled an obsessive special interest that must be stomped out of them.

I know autism is a spectrum, and each autistic person has a distinct personality and different needs. When you meet one autistic person, you have met one autistic person. But this highlights the need for education and giving autistic children "the support they need to grow up into happy, self-determined autistic adults."

A question that will haunt me forever.

After the recent incident at my son's school, we were peppered with questions about all of the "treatment" my son has gone through. It was then that the school psychologist posed a question that will haunt me forever.

This psychologist, this so-called mental health professional, asked, "How long has your son been sick with autism?"

In other words, to her, autism is not a developmental disability. Simply put, she thinks it is a disease that can and must be “cured.”

And, Dear Reader, I have no words that can convey the horror and sadness I felt at that very moment.

I immediately realized I had been giving schools too much credit. I made the mistake of assuming that, just because they have a bit of training, they have actually learned something.

They have learned something, alright…but whatever it is, they use this knowledge as a weapon to keep perpetuating their prejudices against autistic people.

Should I change the world?

In light of this, I have decided I will no longer send my son to that school. Sure, I could raise hell, try to get the local media involved, and all that jazz.

However, my son clearly stated that he does not want to be in that school anymore. He hates it there and never gets a second of peace. If the school was trying to make him realize he was not welcome there, congratulations! You did it!

Let me make it very clear: I don't want special treatment for my son. Schools have rules that are supposed to help preserve a learning environment while keeping everybody safe. The problem, of course, is that, when it comes to autistic people, these rules seem to be used only to punish them and not to protect them.

Essentially, the school's policy is that anybody who wishes to bully my son can do it, and there will be no consequences. And if my son reacts? If he stands up for himself? Well, then, he is proving that he does not know how to "control" his autism and, therefore, is a danger to the community.

Does the school have a problem making the other kids believe it is okay to bully an autistic person and telling my son that he should never protect himself?

Apparently, they do not. How does that make for a safe learning environment?

Luckily, now that my son is 15, my country offers different school programs, including hybrid educational systems that will allow him to homeschool while also receiving assistance from an educator. It will not be perfect, but we'll have to make it work.

I will also find a few extracurricular activities that appeal to him so he can keep interacting with people his age. I know it will not be easy because I will have to find open-minded instructors who don't engage with the "autistic people are so dangerous!" prejudice.

And, of course, I will keep thinking of strategies, although honestly, I'm not sure what else to do. I am worried about the future, about how people will treat him as he grows up. At moments, I find myself committing the capital sin of trying to make him mask his autism so people won't reject him, but, as an autistic person myself, I know that would only cause more harm along the way. Plus, it would turn me into a hypocrite.

What else can a mother do?

Should I change the world? Do you know how to make prejudice go away? Have you found a flawless method to inject some empathy into people's hearts? Do you possess a functional crystal ball I might borrow so I can peep into his future and know for a fact he will be okay?

And, let's not forget, this is his life. My intervention can only go so far, eventually morphing into suggestions he must choose whether to take. He will make choices; like for the rest of us, some consequences will be good, and others will be bad.

I wish the odds weren't stacked against him from the get-go just because he happens to be autistic.

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