Out In Public With An Autistic Child
Experience What It Can Feel Like First Hand
We knew it was a mistake. Cracker Barrel at 10:30 AM on Memorial Day with our 4-year-old. We compounded that mistake when, upon being told that the wait would be an hour, we said, “Sure! No problem!” And so the waiting began.
For any four-year-old, these would be difficult circumstances. For one with autism, well, as I say, we knew it was a mistake. We went to the toy area. We touched (and removed) everything. We reacted with lightning speed to make sure we didn’t open the most interesting packages. We explained again and again how much longer, unsure if our boy knew what in the world we were talking about.
Finally, I took him to the front porch, stationed him in one of the Cracker Barrel rocking chairs, knelt before him, and bracketed him with my arms to keep him there for however long it took. Sometimes tickling, sometimes gently pushing back, whatever it took.
And it worked! I kept him in the chair, he was (relatively) content, and the other guests were undisturbed. At least, that’s what I thought. Shortly before our names were called, the old man in the rocking chair to Eric’s right asked me a question I did not expect: “That boy’s momma live with you?” I allowed as how she did—frankly, not sure where he was going with his line of questioning. “Well, I just wanna tell you, you’re raisin’ a monster.”
What? What are you talking about? Can’t you see how great this is going? I was speechless—I had twenty snappy retorts that came to me an hour later, but nothing came to me at that moment. And in retrospect, whatever I might have said wouldn’t have mattered.
Rather, what mattered was that, within reason, we did what we had to do. Since then, when we’ve been out and about, we’ve had people offer support, and we’ve had others shy away or worse. We’ve gotten smiles and dirty looks. Generally most reactions have been positive, but the negative ones are there, and they’re real. But we do what we have to. We have to engage. Our son has to be integrated into the world in which he lives. We cannot hide him. Or ourselves. If the price we pay is a frown or a snide remark from time to time, so be it.
