This is why I live here

I hate the town I live in. It's not a bad place, really, but it's a small town and I hate small towns. I hate that stores close early in small towns. I hate that there is no one-stop shop. I hate that the nearest hospital is an hour away. I hate that I can't buy food here. You see, being vegan makes it hard to find food in general, but even harder in a small town. Yet I live here by choice.

There's a lot of good things about small towns. People are generally nice-don't get me wrong, there are jerks in small towns, just not as many. And if you need something, people will help you out. If you're walking down the street and someone drives by they offer you a ride. If someone sees you outside in the cold weather without a good coat they give you one. If you need something, someone will help. That's how it works in small town.

There aren't a lot of services available for autistic people. But there is something much more important: acceptance. People don't say rude things about my son. People don't expect my son to behave in a typical NT manner. He doesn't get bullied at school, everyone there loves him. And if he manages to get out of the house? Well, everyone knows who he is and where he lives, so he won't get far.

Today I spent the day at school with him because the autism specialist was in town (she's only here once a month). She was doing an informal training/education session with the teachers and aides that work with my son regularly. I was invited to sit in on the session, so I did. I won't lie, I expected to need to correct the specialist on a lot of things, but that didn't happen. The first thing she said at the beginning of the meeting was that while she may be the autism specialist, she is not the expert on my son.

The strategies discussed did not take the path of trying to alter my son's autistic behaviors, instead they focused on altering the teaching strategy to suit my son. There was no talk of trying to stop his stimming. No talk of "quiet hands." No talk of desensitizing him. Instead, she offered suggestions to help make the day easier. She brought a visual schedule for him to use at school to help with the transitions. She offered tips on helping him communicate through picture books. She offered suggestions on how to get him interested in class work by incorporating things he likes.

She also offered to help with issues experienced at home, specifically the sleep issues. She offered to come to our house and work with my son if I need. She respected my son's needs and my concerns. She spoke to him instead of speaking at or over him. She assumed competence. She didn't paint autism like a disease. When I lived in the city the specialists were just the opposite: they thought they knew more than I about my own son, they wanted to break him of his autistic behavior, they assumed he was stupid.