My Daughter is Autistic, Not a 'Problem Child’
April 2 is World Autism Awareness Day, and the entire month of April is recognized as Autism Acceptance Month.
Autism is a widely misunderstood disability since it appears not in one way but across a large spectrum. Autism can make numerous tasks difficult, including communication, social interaction, correctly understanding context and changes in daily routines. These symptoms vary highly in everyone who is diagnosed with Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD).
People with autism are nothing short of amazing — especially my youngest daughter.
My daughters and I met in December 2023 when I flew out to the Midwest from the East Coast to meet their gorgeous and wonderful mom in person, who ended up becoming my wife.
Both of my daughters started calling me “Dad” early on when I came back to the Midwest for good in January 2024. Even though I’m not their biological father, we’ve been a family ever since, and I wouldn’t want it any other way.
My wife has explained to me that it was a long, hard-fought battle to get our youngest, who is now 11 years old, an autism diagnosis. The doctor ignored all of my daughter’s symptoms, including sensory issues and meltdowns, and the doctor gaslit her mother into thinking that there was nothing going on. My daughter finally got the correct diagnosis around eight or nine years old — after her mom firmly demanded a legitimate autism test be conducted.
A kind-hearted school psychologist sat in my daughter's old classroom and observed her. This psychologist told my wife that she could tell that our daughter was autistic within the first ten minutes of observation.
This brings me to my point: Autism is not something that can be physically seen most of the time, which is bad for a handful of different reasons.
In October 2024, my wife and I took our daughter trick-or-treating on Halloween as she had requested. Our daughter was dressed up as Cousin Itt from “The Addams Family,” and her mom and I were Morticia and Gomez Addams.
As soon as we started walking around the neighborhood, our daughter saw some other kids in costumes, and something involving her social anxiety kicked in almost immediately. When this happens, verbal communication from her is almost impossible — a reaction called “going nonverbal,” which is a common occurrence for many autistic kids.
All three of us approached the first house, but our daughter was unable to conjure up the words “Trick or treat!” for the tall, skinny man who opened the door. Her shyness, due to her anxiety caused by her disability, was amplified as she looked down at the ground nervously to avoid direct eye contact.
The man smiled at our daughter, holding candy and anticipating those three words that are expected on every Halloween night. His facial expression became more confused and then oddly irritated as my daughter stood there, completely terrified.
After about 20 seconds dragged by, the man rudely and ignorantly stated, “What are you, mute?” to our sweet, 11-year-old daughter.
My wife and I were both infuriated. We bit our tongues and gave the man a look that read, “You better give her some damn candy.” After our Mama and Papa Bear expressions, the man did give our daughter a generous handful.
My wife and I didn’t say anything to the man at that house — despite the fact that he completely disrespected our amazing child who doesn’t have a single mean bone in her body — because we did not want to make the situation worse for our daughter. We cut our trip very short that night out of respect for her, as she did not feel safe or comfortable.
Unfortunately, situations like this are only the tip of the iceberg for my daughter. Society and the public school system have drastically failed her.
My daughter was kicked out of after-school daycare. She had continuous problems at her old elementary school because other children bullied her and teachers ignored or did not want to “deal with her.” She used to get into trouble regularly — and once in a while still does — because people at school consider her and her behavior to be “a problem,” rather than considering her a person.
Oftentimes in life, people look at a child who is angry or “acting out” and consider them to be a problem, which gets that child into trouble. The problem is that those kids have a right to be angry. They are living and learning in a system that is not designed for them. This is why context, subjectivity and understanding are crucial.
Now, our daughter attends a behavioral school where she is currently enrolled in fifth grade. This is the best alternative that South Dakota has, but it still isn’t a perfect option for her. She is lumped in with many other kids who have a variety of disabilities and symptoms, including ones that cause behavioral issues.
That environment can be unhealthy for her and cause her to pick up on negative behaviors from other kids. My daughter does not have behavioral issues. She has autism.
Ideally, she would attend a school or be taught by a teacher that specializes in giving kids with autism what they need to thrive, be successful and feel safe. This type of program is available on the East Coast where I’m originally from, but South Dakota lacks the kind of programming that my daughter really needs, even though the elementary school that she currently attends is doing the best it can to help her with her upcoming transition back to public school.
My wife and I have yet to find out exactly how our little girl’s transition back to a regular school is going to go as she approaches her first year of middle school. We are fearful, yet cautious and continually protective of our daughter, both now and forever.
My daughter is extremely intelligent and advanced in every subject in school — I feel as if she is even better at math than me. She is funny and strong, and she absorbs educational information like a sponge when she is placed in the right environment with people who make her feel safe and comfortable. She is just a sweet silly goose who loves to laugh and often out-fishes me — her own dad.
Autistic people are some of the kindest and smartest human beings out there. My daughter is not a problem. She is a gift.
You’re the best, Spider-Man — oops! I mean… daughter!
Love, Dad.
