The day my wife and I learned that our 2-year-old son, Noah, was autistic in 2017 didn’t break us. Instead, it lifted the obscure cloud of doubt, outlining a course of action that assured our son would receive the necessary support. Imagine our shock, therefore, some eight years later, when Robert F. Kennedy Jr., the current U.S. Health and Human Services Secretary, described children like Noah as victims of an ‘autism epidemic,’ allegedly triggered by unknown ‘environmental toxins’.
It felt surreal to watch Kennedy publicly assert that children like Noah would never bear the responsibility of tax-paying citizens, wouldn’t hold a job, or be able to use a restroom without help. He labeled autism a ‘preventable disease,’ pledging a rapid investigation to uncover its supposed environmental origins. He disregarded several decades of scientific findings, comparing a multifaceted neurodevelopmental disorder with pollution. The person making such statements is in charge of the U.S. national health policy.
Such assertions surpass mere misinformation; they rise to a new degree of fear-inducing manipulation. Allow me to share a glimpse of the true nature of autism. It’s Noah, sitting on the floor, legs crossed, able to recount the names of all the planets in reverse order because that’s how he enjoys it. It’s Noah, inventing intricate maze designs in his notebook, creating characters along with their tales and voices.
It’s Noah, mimicking his favorite ‘Spongebob Squarepants’ episodes, piecing together videos on his tablet that could make an accomplished film editor envious. Autism is a blend of joy, difficulties, advancement, and human essence. It also reflects the exceptional autistic adults I am privileged to know and respect.
Autistic individuals fall in love, have dates, marry, write poems, crack jokes, and hold jobs. Take, as an example, the delightful Tanner from South Carolina, who works full-time at a hotel and lives with roommates. Then there’s Dani, a vibrant and hilarious woman with a job, an ardent love for animation, and emotional acumen that would outshine many politicians.
Let’s not forget Connor, the charming man from Georgia who adores ‘Game of Thrones,’ is an avid reader, and has blossomed into a social media celebrity because of the respectful behavior he displayed on a date. The consent he asked for before that first kiss in his backyard, under an umbrella in the rain, won the admiration of many. None of these adults is bothered or burdened, and none of them corresponds to Kennedy’s over-simplified and helpless portrayal.
Kennedy’s commentary came just a day after the unfortunate demise of Victor Perez, a 17-year-old autistic teenager from Idaho, who was tragically shot nine times by the police. Immediately, the officers involved were put on administrative leave and investigations, both criminal and internal, were initiated. Kennedy’s press conference speech seemed to reduce the diverse experiences of autistic individuals to a mere jest.
An increase in autism diagnoses doesn’t point to a menacing surge. It’s a direct result of more comprehensive diagnostic standards, improved awareness, and wider access to assessments. Pediatricians and child psychologists consider this progress as kids can now receive the support they require sooner, rendering greater impacts. Kennedy, however, trivializes these advancements.
Kennedy’s attitude threatens to pull us back into the disreputable domain of vaccine cover-ups and paranoid conjectures about air poisoning. Meanwhile, he neglects to listen to the voices of the very autistic individuals whose lives are at stake, and the researchers who grapple with the complexities of this condition.
Here’s the honest truth: Autism is not unidimensional. It is not contagious. It is not a standalone disorder. It’s a range of neurological disparities, shaped by a complex interplay of genes, biological factors, and the environment, experienced by millions who deserve support rather than skepticism. This might even include many readers of this piece who have not formally been diagnosed.
Autism is not a catastrophe but a summoning to inclusivity. I don’t speculate whether Noah will pay taxes in the future. It’s not his diagnosis that’s the determining factor, it’s simply because he’s just 10. However, I am certain that he is capable, kind-hearted and always eager to learn. Even now, he has inclusively outperformed every confined anticipation.
If I have to endure another politician turning my son into a quick, catchy headline for garnering political leverage, rest assured, I won’t remain silent. The voices of parents echoing the stories of their autistic children will rise louder. Noah is not a calamity. He is not a burden. He is not a wave of epidemic. He’s just Noah.