Discovering Autism

Looking back, I suppose the first day I discovered autism was the day I met Steven,* a two year old bundle of energy with straight, white-blond hair that hung low over his face because it was impossible to cut it.  "He hates having his hair cut," his mother informed me, with a somewhat forced smile pasted across her face.  Steven's eyes were a bright piercing blue, reminiscent of the ocean he lived so close to.  Although the color of his eyes was remarkable, none commented on the hue, rather they worried that Steven never made eye contact, not with anyone, not at all. His eyes seemed to stare into nothing, transfixed by something his parents and relatives could not fathom.  

But it was Steven's eyes, as they stared out from that flyer his parents had posted at my university, that hooked my attention and reeled me in.  Answering the ad seeking behavioral aides landed me in Steven's living room along with four other young women, Steven's parents, his grandparents, and a highly-qualified trainer from the top behavioral agency in the world.  I had no idea that this decision to help Steven would catapult me into a world of hardship, denial, tears, joy, triumph, and eventual acceptance.  This decision would also serve as a catalyst for the rest of my career.  The training I received from the agency became the foundation for the successes I would experience in my own early childhood special education classroom.  

Hence, although I had studied autism, and had aced my undergraduate classes in applied behavioral analysis taught by the notable Dr Ivar Lovaas, in a sense, I first discovered autism when I met Steven.  My story begins with him.  

*All names and identifying information have been changed to protect privacy and preserve confidentiality.  Any similarities to known individuals is purely coincidental.