The rant is ON

Today’s Adventures In Going Amongst The People brought a braying jackass well-intentioned woman basically opined that Captain Adventure was horribly afflicted with a terrible disease, and needed – needed – to be “cured.”

You know, so he could be a “normal” person. (<= hint: this sentence contains a keyword which comes with a money-back guarantee to set me off in a big way) (additional hint: it has quotes around it)

And she was ob-frickin-noxious about it. Reared up on her hind legs hee-hawing all sorts of nonsense to a train full of captives…one of those types who read two articles on some website and is now a self-proclaimed Subject Matter Expert™, who knows eeeeeeeeverything about how {evil MegaCorp.com} is {evil conspiracy plot} aided of course by {obligatory governmental connection} to {evil act}.

I’m afraid I was so pissed off by the time she wound down her little speech on the train that I just about lost all powers of speech, and thus could only mutter something indistinct that probably sounded like “…grrraumph hem-haw fizzle vetch…” at her as she was practically trying to ram her stupid pamphlet down the front of my shirt.

I really didn’t want to “discuss” it right then. Mostly because “discuss” would have undoubtedly ended up being “screaming about” – and there likely would have been vulgarities uttered.

But in some ways, I find myself sorry I didn’t haul off and hit her upside the head with a few choice adverbs. It’s been itching and itching, ever since.

MIND YOU, I’m not about to burst into some musical number about how perfectly awesome it is to have an autistic kid. It’s not perfectly awesome. There are things about it that straight-up suck. There are times when I look at him as he’s stomping around being autistic and think, …dude, I’m just…kind of TIRED of this right now…it’s also loaded with uncertainty, fear, doubts, inconvenience, embarrassment and other negative sorts of things.

But at the same time, I really don’t think he needs to be “fixed.” He’s not broken. Plus, autism is deep in his wiring, so to speak; the way he views the world, the way he thinks, the way he translates various sensory inputs, is just different from most people.

To “cure” him would be to…change him.

To make him not my Captain anymore.

My mind rejects that concept rather violently. The idea of taking away something that is so central to who he is appalls me. It feels a lot like she was walking up and saying, “Oh, wow, you got one of those models? They’re defective, ya know? You should throw that one away and get one of the newer ones.”

ABOUT MY CHILD.

{…HACKLES…ACTIVATED…!!!!!}

And much as I know that’s not what she meant (exactly) and that I’m probably being overly sensitive about the whole thing and should just let it go already…well.

You know what? I don’t want to “make him normal.” I just want to figure out how I can help him figure out how to get the things he will want to have, or do, or be. Because you know what? He has special challenges, sure, but he also has special strengths.

Those too are part of this thing she calls a “horrible disease.” They’re part of what she wants to “cure” in the name of making him “normal.”

Shall we throw those away, just because they’re stronger than “normal” child strengths? Or consider that collateral damage acceptable because it would be more convenient, or less embarrassing, to me not to have to put my hands over his when the flapping is getting out of hand in public? 

…sigh…

It’s “Autism Awareness Month,” of course. There are people doing really good work under the same banner; but inevitably, you’re going to get the people who just…don’t necessarily think these things all the way through, who are innocently trying to “help” when they say “Oh, you should murder that child, then resurrect him as a different, more desirable one!” (Oops. Apparently, I have still not quite gotten the ire out of my system…)

And I have to acknowledge that it is entirely possible that I’m the weird one for feeling that way. I have to admit, there’s a certain likelihood that a “normal” mother would want to change her “Not-Normal” child.

“Normal” is, after all…safest. A “normal” child has a higher probability of having a “good” life, a steady, improving-on-what-my-parents-had sort of one-foot-before-the-other life.

A “normal” child won’t be labeled, won’t have to explain themselves, won’t have to carry notes from their doctors or wear wristbands or any of that.

So, maybe I’m the one who needs to reexamine their reality a bit.

But still.

I wouldn’t change a hair on his head. Or a thought inside it.

He doesn’t need to be cured of being himself. No. There is nothing, nothing wrong with who he is.

He only needs to be helped, so that he, not his autism, can decide what his life will be like.

That’s how I see it, anyway.

And how I always will see it.