Thank you, but...

Following Joel's recital, a nice concert of Christmas music played on the organ, there were lots of smiles from people and congratulations were in order to Joel. As the parents, we were and are of course proud of our son, but we also know the 21 years of challenges getting to this point. It hits home when the inevitable well-intentioned person approaches us and says, "Joel is very lucky to have parents like you. You have obviously done a great job of raising him. He would not be where he is without you."

We receive these comments in kindness with the grace and diffidence expected of our position. But it is with mixed emotions that we respond with thank you. While in many ways it is true that Joel is fortunate to have two parents who both care about his growth, his education, his progress, and his condition, in other ways the comment reminds us of Joel's limits. We as parents tend to see his potential, believing in what he can be, and never letting go of the ideal. But what if we have been wrong? What if Joel really has very little potential?

Do other people see something that we do not see? Are we blinded by our love of our son to the point of not being able to act realistically in his best interests? Is Joel's success entirely dependent on our lifting him up? Does he walk on our feet, stand on our legs? Are we the escalator that emotionally and cognitively transports him from one place to another?

Maybe Joel's grandmothers played a significant role as well? Joel's teachers? Joel's friends? Obviously, assuming sole credit would be a selfish parental flaw since raising him was a community effort in many ways.

One of the primary purposes of parenting is to encourage your children to be independent, to make their own choices, to live their own lives, to become adults capable of navigating the turbulent waters of life. For an autistic, however, the capability is greatly limited. The rough waters require a lifeboat and an anchor, a solid protection base and a constant watchful eye for the autistic child or adults.

The thing is this: we grow from adversity and children find ways to be successful in the midst of their failures. When you skin your knee on the playground, you find ways to avoid doing so again while still enjoying the playground experience. For an autistic the skinned knee happened without a direct cause. He likely will not learn from the event and may not be able to correct it next time without some careful teaching. Once again we find the idea of teaching independence to an autistic to be very difficult.

We have spent years working with our son to help him be independent as much as possible, knowing that he will not be able to take care of himself in any kind of totally independent way (of course, this brings to mind what independence even means or if in any of us are entirely independent, but that is another subject for the libertarians of the world!). Are we to be thanked for our efforts? To be affirmed as good parents? To imagine we made a difference in Joel's life? Maybe so, but to me it just seems like our job as parents.

So thank you, but maybe we didn't do well enough. Not sure. We have done the best we could do. For the most part, I guess it has been pretty good.