My daughter, Daphne, will turn ten in ten days. Every morning when we pull into the school parking lot, I tell her, “You are a sweet, smart, beautiful, wonderful little girl. Daddy and I love you so much.”
She is absolutely all of those qualities.
After she gets to know you, and especially if you take some time to enter her world by singing or dancing with her or by responding to her comments on her Augmentative and Alternative Communication (AAC) device, she will adore you. She will give you high fives and maybe even a hug or two.
Daphne also generalizes what she learns well, carrying over lessons in communication, academic/motor skills, and social etiquette from school to home and vice versa, often without any of us making those connections explicit.
She’s also using new words all the time on her speech-dedicated AAC device, or her “talker,” as we call it. A word she discovered this week was “invitation,” which we talked about after we came across it in one of her Sesame Street books, and she enjoyed repeating it on her device each time I read that page. She’s reading favorite words, too. She can look at a long playlist of song titles without images and select the one she wants.
You only have to look at her pictures to see how naturally gorgeous Daphne is. It still blows my mind that she’s a true blond. We don’t really have any of those on either side of the family, but clearly there’s a gene for it somewhere.
Finally, Daph’s ability to find such easy joy in “little” things still amazes me.
She loves being outdoors on a nice day–swinging, kicking her soccer ball, walking, picking up leaves or sticks, and petting the hens. She loves to feel the snow or wind on her body and listen to the way the breeze rustles the nearby leaves and, farther away, the towering treetops. She loves looking at all the sights around her, and running her hands over the branches of the firs cultivated on our property. Most kiddos enjoy these things too, but I suspect Daphne’s ability to be truly present in nature is exceptional.
And, she adores the water. Beach and lake swimming are her very favorite things, and it’s a bonus of living here in Vermont, in such beautiful lake country.
I believe she feels most regulated and natural in the water. She is a Taurus, an earth sign, but she seems more connected to the aquatic. In this way she’s very much her father’s child and a product of her paternal family, who love sailing and swimming and have the sea in their veins.
Her love of music, especially classical music, she gets from my side, where there’s a light musical legacy. Daphne adores Claire de Lune by Debussy, among other classical and instrumental pieces. She also loves nursery rhymes and American folk songs. I never thought I’d know, and sing on repeat, the lyrics to selections like “Little Nut Tree,” “Billy Boy,” and “Polly Wolly Doodle,” but there you go, and I’m fond of them too (though we won’t mention the origins of “Polly”). I’m fond of anything that brings my daughter joy.
Daphne is capable of such profound happiness, all the time. Even on the hard days, when she’s hormonal and frustrated because she can’t verbally articulate her complex feelings and thoughts, she always finds her way back to cheerfulness. She has real challenges, no doubt, and I don’t want to romanticize her autism. The truth, though, is that most of us face serious challenges at some point in our lives, and we have to learn to adapt. My daughter is no different.
What we’ve learned is that her autism means we all have to work a little harder to help her understand and navigate a neurotypical world. Perhaps, her dad and I have to muster a little more patience, too, than most parents of neurotypical kiddos. We’re far from perfect, but we strive, every day, to cultivate calmness and composure in an unconditionally-loving home.
I should be careful when speaking on my daughter’s behalf, but if she could tell us, I think she would say, autism hasn’t destroyed her life. I can assert that it hasn’t destroyed her family’s life either, despite what RFK Jr. so recently and ignorantly claimed. (It was one among several sweeping, inaccurate claims.)
My daughter is a precious gift. I wouldn’t change a thing about her except maybe the ability to communicate a little more easily, in whatever way suits her best, and only for her own sake. She is developing in leaps and bounds communication-wise, however, and is becoming an assertive self-advocate.
I am grateful for a modern world that is so much better now about accepting and supporting neurodivergence. Her teachers and classmates have always been wonderful, and our larger family has always been incredibly supportive and encouraging. Daphne absolutely has a village, and I’m so thankful for that.
Her dad and I do worry about the political climate, however. RFK Jr.’s recent statement about autistic kids “never pay[ing] taxes” is especially unnerving, given the Trump Administration’s anti-Diversity, Equity, & Inclusion agenda. There’s so much evidence indicating they don’t respect citizenship or even view all people as naturally equal, and it reeks of fascist eugenics.
It’s not a realistic option for us, but we’ve definitely fantasized about relocating elsewhere in the world.
Ok, I don’t want to bog us all down. I’d rather focus on the beauty of seeing and accepting all people, autistics among them, and that’s what April is all about.
So, happy Autism Acceptance Month! Never be afraid to smile and say hi to an autistic person. Never be afraid to invite them somewhere or include them in some way. If you’re unsure about anything, ask questions. A gentle, curious tone is always welcome.
To the parents and educators out there, thank you for teaching our children all about differences and the value of inclusion. It’s more important than ever.
Finally, if you celebrate, have a wonderful Easter weekend. We’re toying with the idea of attending Sunday service at one of the Episcopal churches up here. Not only does the spiritual communion sound good, it would be another wonderful way to engage more in our community, something I’ve been wanting to do lately.
See you next week!
XOXO,
Jenn
Jennifer Shaw 