I’m truly grateful to be here to greet another April. It’s such a hopeful month, with spring springing up everywhere. This month is also known as Autism Awareness Month. To those who love someone who lives with autism, every month, week, and day is a new chance to be aware. Insert my face with a pleasantly wry smile here.
Bink appears younger than her twenty six years. She could easily pass for sixteen. When we are out in the world doing the things we do, people will sometimes ask me,” How old is she?” If I’m reasonably well rested and have my patience and understanding handy, (the extra stuff I save for strangers) I’ll smile and turn to Bink. “ Would you like to tell him/her how old you are?” If I’m running low on all that, I might just assuage their curiosity by telling them Bink’s age. Occasionally, if I’m really worn thin I’ll just pretend I didn’t hear the question. The alternative would be to answer their question with my own, and I might not smile at all when I say, ” Ummm, she’s right here. Why don’t you ask her?” I rarely go there, because I truly believe that most people mean well. We’ve all just amassed a bunch of suppositions, based on our lived experience.
Sometimes, I imagine my daughter as one of a million special messengers from the great beyond. Perhaps her given mission is to offer a pause button, to give observers an opportunity to alter their assumptions. Her perceptions are so very different than what is considered mainstream. They have the power to shake interested minds in a gentle way, like a breeze shakes the leaves on the trees.
I offer my directive with the very best intention: Presume competence, people. Please.