Autism awareness every day

Celebrating Life, Autism, and our difficult long road towards Australian Residency

I was too busy this year during Autism Awareness month (April), with work and life in general, and didn’t have a chance to blog or share my story. But in my house, every day is Autism Awareness Day, Month, Year,… Every day for exactly the last 9 years since today is my Autistic son’s 9th birthday (quick aside - While many have used and continue to use the term "person with autism" because they find it more polite or respectful, it is widely accepted that people who have received an autism diagnosis prefer to be referred to as an "autistic person).

Every day in my house is a reminder that this kid is an extraordinary gift we've been granted and a responsibility. So in our home, every day is Autism Awareness Day, as we learn to see the world through my son's special lens, and on his Takiwātanga (my/his/her own time and space).

Today, as Thomas turns nine, we find ourselves particularly reflective, not just of his autism, which is an integral part of our daily life, but also of the difficult journey that we've undertaken together as a family.

Conventional wisdom suggests that by the age of 9, significant aspects of a child's future personality and skills have been shaped and with Autism some part of his difficulties and strengths should be noticeable. Reflecting on this milestone, I'm struck by the extraordinary tapestry of experiences that define my son. A loving and friendly kid whose mind dances to its unique rhythm - in a world of echolalia and loud sound repetition. A world of monster trucks and killer whales. Of "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry" and of trying his hardest to fit in.

His autism however doesn’t limit or define him; it simply paints his world with different colors, allowing him to perceive life in ways most of us can't fully comprehend. His laughter is the purest form of joy, his curiosity a delightful plunge into uncharted waters. Each day with him is a revelation, a treasure trove of insights into his unique world.

However, parallel to this celebration runs our journey toward securing permanent residency in Australia. This journey has been far from typical. Where most people see a straightforward process of paperwork and a bit of patience, we see an odyssey of resilience and determination. All of this happens behind closed doors and away from colleagues' knowledge.

But with every document submitted, every form filled, represents another step in a grueling marathon. A race where the finish line is not just a document, but a place we can truly call home. Something we failed to achieve before leaving other countries behind.

To navigate this labyrinthine system, and to protect my family’s interests, I've had to master the art of 'masking.' A term often used in the neurodivergent and autistic communities. 'Masking' involves concealing struggles, mimicking societal norms, and presenting a facade that might not represent our genuine experiences. Each day, I carefully curate what I reveal, tucking away the complex realities of raising an autistic child and the unnecessarily complex and cumbersome process of applying for permanent residency. This mask isn't a deception, but a necessary armor in a world that often fails to understand the complexity of autism, a world that might use this lack of understanding against us in our fight for residency.

Today, as we celebrate my son's birthday, we also acknowledge each challenge we've faced as a testament to our family's strength. As we blow out the candles on his cake, we make a wish—for understanding, acceptance, and a world that appreciates him just as we do—simply, irreplaceably, and wonderfully, him.

We dream of a world where countries don’t view him, my son Thomas—"the boy" as we affectionately call him in our household—a nine-year-old with boundless kindness, a magnificent heart, and a passion for whales and trains, as a burden to society. We envision a place where families like ours aren't subjected to rigorous tests of resilience to live the life we chose, in the place we selected. A life of simple acceptance.

This week, my 2 worlds collided. And with that, the mask fell away. I had to ask for help from colleagues, breaking the elaborate wall I’ve constructed separating work and home, as I require letters of support from Australian citizens to endorse our stay in Australia. Individuals from school, work, and community groups stood up for my son and our family. They stated, with no personal gain to any of them, that Thomas "the boy" is far from being a burden. Instead, losing us would be a detrimental loss to the community.

For those who lent their time, and their words, and extended a hand during this challenging quest, I express my deepest gratitude here. On this day, my son's birthday, I want everyone to recognize the daily obstacles that we, and other families with autistic members face. I extend my thanks to everyone who gave us a fighting chance and spared a thought for my family. Thank you. We're aware of you, too, as allies. We celebrate you all on his day and celebrate awareness with you. ??

?

I dedicate this post

To all the autistic individuals worldwide

To my son, whom I love deeply

And to our allies—thank you.