"Your son has autism spectrum disorder." 

--some school psychologist whose name I can't remember.  February 14, 2017

When I was in college, I took a class called Exceptional Children.  Good God, what foreshadowing that was.  Later, the course's name was changed to Diverse Learners or something like that.  I have no idea what edubabble title the course now has.  

I remember learning about mental retardation, and all the stigma that word carries with it, and how to diagnosis it using standardized tests (aren't we smart?!?!). 

 I remember learning about trisomy 21, though all I could really tell you about it today is that the 21st chromosomal pair has 3 instead of 2 chromosomes. 

I remember learning about Downs Syndrome.  I can't remember much about the cause, but I do know that every person I'ver met with Downs is happy as can be!

I remember learning about specific learning disabilities.  I later encountered these everyday at Andalusia Middle School and still see them at the college.

And I remember just a very little bit about learning about autism.  Seems like we just barely covered it, and looking back, I can't help but wonder if that's because we still seem to know so very little about it, and because it is so diverse in terms of how it presents.  

My very first introduction to autism was Raymond Babbitt in the film Rain Man.  His ability to memorize everything under the sun, INSTANTLY, was absolutely fascinating to me.  That ability, coupled with his inability to communicate with his brother, or anyone else, still, to this day, confounds my understanding of the human mind.  When those toothpicks feel on the floor and he said "46, 46, 46".....mind blown.  

If you don't know, autism diagnosis is governed by what is known as the DSM-V, or Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Illness, 5th edition.  In the fourth edition of the DSM, there were the following:  autism, Asperger syndrome, pervasive developmental disorder, and childhood disintegrative disorder.  When the fifth edition came out, all four were lumped into what is now called Autism Spectrum Disorder.  On February 14, 2017, my younger son, Jack, was diagnosed with ASD. His mother and I met together with a school psychologist that day for about 2 hours discussing our son.  We divorced in 2011, but we co-parent our kids, and we always put their best interests first, I'm proud to say.  The more we learned about ASD, the more we found ourselves saying "yes! that's Jack!" It was amazing, really.  We always thought he was just a unique, quirky kid.  We knew he was intelligent, but something just wasn't "right."  (I use quotation marks there VERY sarcastically.)

I began to study autism.  I talked with parents of kids who fall on the spectrum.  I read A LOT of stuff on it.  What I learned, if nothing else, if this: AUTISM COMES IN ENDLESS FORMS. 

You hear me?  END. LESS.  Think the paint color sample strips in Sherwin-Williams.  And isn't it great that there are 27583 shades of yellow? I think so.  

When we were discussing how to proceed with Jack, and specifically his IEP, he said something one day that just sat me down.  We were talking about to go about explaining his differences, and it really seemed like we were walking on eggshells.  Finally, Jack said this.

Why don't I just tell people that I have autism and that my mind works differently?  

The stigma? Yeah, apparently the grown-ups were the only ones feeling it.  Jack was all about full ownership of it. This is how it is.  Deal with it.  I'm different. Deal with it.  And I love Jack for that.  

I love that he is different.  There is already one me in the world.  And one you.  And one everyone.  We don't need another of anyone.  But we need a Jack.  And we need every kid who has every exceptionality under the sun.  Because they are exactly like God made them.  

In the last several years, there has been a monumental push toward acceptance of exceptionalities.  The actor John C. McGinley, who played my favorite TV character of all time, Dr. Perry Cox on Scrubs, was a spokesman for an organization that was focused on eradicating the word "retarded."  His son, Max, has down syndrome, and as a parent of an exceptional child, I know exactly why he supported that group.  

Truth be told, we're all different.  We're all exceptional in some way.  We're all better than and worse than.  We're all more than and less than.  We're all weird.  We're all unique.  And we're all the same because we're all human.  So what if our brain works a little differently or if we pronounce words a little differently.  SO WHAT.  It has taken me a long time to be able to see that I am probably at least a little bit autistic.  Heck, if you read the DSM-V, you'd see that WE ALL ARE.  

The problem is that society tries to push us into conformity ALL THE TIME.  But we can't all conform.  We can't all be the same.  And I'm glad of that.  Let's remember to keep the main thing the main thing.  When you look at a person,  remember that that's a soul you're looking at.  The body is just a shell.  

So...I'm glad we have a diagnosis. But only because it helps us to understand.  And to treat.  But labeling?  Nah, bruh.  Ain't interested in labels.....unless that label is "Jack."