I Don’t Know a World Without Autism – Finding Cooper’s Voice

And I forget sometimes, when we are out in the wild, that we are different.

Because to us, our son is just our son.

He isn’t autistic Cooper. He is Cooper. And we have been living this life for 15 years now. We don’t know a different life.

And then something will happen. Like last weekend.

We went to a restaurant. A real one. With people and noise.

Cooper sat on the floor. It’s always his seat of choice. An autistic adult told me once that she sits on the floor because it makes her feel safe. Grounded.

And ever since she told me that I decided that if Cooper needs to hold the floor…he can. I will not stop him.

He spent his time watching the history of the great American railway on my phone.

He gasped. He clapped. His hands danced in front of his face.

He loved this stadium seating area. He put every chair down. Then up. Then down again.

He ate a piece of pizza. Not cut up. I showed him how to hold it in his hand. And he screamed with joy after he took his first bite.

When he was done he let us know with a scream. Just loud enough to get our attention.

We are different.

We are not like the others.

We are a lot.

We have autism threaded throughout every part of us.

As I looked at the faces around us, I saw lots of reactions.

Curiosity.

Wonder.

Concern.

Smiles.

Annoyance.

And kindness.

I’ve learned something over the years.

Kindness goes farther than anger.

So does education.

Because I’ve learned that most people are kind. They are curious. They want to understand why.

It’s what makes us different.