Letter to my son

Some time ago, I signed the Diversity Charter of Romania as the representative of the organization I have the honor to represent for many years. I adhered to the principles of this document with a strong personal conviction in the need to support inclusion and diversity in our communities. At that time, I also published a letter that was both a manifesto and a commitment, not only as a representative of the organization but also as a mother who knows and feels every day what it means to be atypical in today’s society.

The letter below is a collection of feelings and commitments publicly assumed, taking on the inherent risks of such an endeavor. I strongly believe that changing a world and a system starts with taking responsibility, with  any small or large step taken by each of us.

„My dear son, I imagined what your graduation ball would be like, and you, very proud of what you achieved, invited me to share in your joy. I imagined that all your friends might be around us… I only imagined… because they hardly exist today…

You came into this world too early, the world was not ready for you. The world in which you live as a person with autism, and the world you can feel, is simple, clean, without lies, without riches, just full of love and sensitivity, with feelings much more intense than ours. All these make you vulnerable my son, which is why you are often hit, ignored, humiliated. Sensitivity is not something that resonates with what many of us have become or feel.

How could we understand that? We are too busy and too hurried to understand, and often we ignore, reject, despise, destroy any fragile attempt of yours to penetrate our world. You do not know how to fight alone and, often frightened, you choose to retreat into your world… and I so much wish we could stay in the same world…

I love you, my son, with an intensity hard to describe. I dreamed of the day when I would open the door for you and say: ‘Welcome home, son, I hope you like it here, please stay a little longer with us!’. If that cannot happen, maybe I will at least manage to offer you the door that you can open for me and tell me ‘Thank you for coming, mother! Thank you for not leaving me alone in this world…’.

I have learned so many things from you and am determined to do all these things, for you and for others like you:

• I will tell anyone that you are my son, as acceptance by those close must exist before asking for the acceptance of everyone else.

• I will look even deeper into your eyes to understand you and to be able to explain to anyone how you feel about every little thing that you or any of us do

. • I will talk to everyone about love and acceptance, two ingredients that make you shine. And I will kindly ask just to be patient with you, because once you trust them, you will show that you can

• I will talk to teachers, all certainly lovers of children, reminding them that you might not have the same pace as other children and may behave differently and we will need them to be patient with you and learn how to teach you…

• I will talk to employers about the huge potential and creativity you can have, hidden well today, even if once explored they can revolutionize the world, rejuvenate a business, or simply help us be better, as people

• I will talk to relatives, neighbors, our colleagues and tell them that you like to have friends and feel useful. Maybe then they will extend a hand, smile at you and you will no longer be condemned to live in isolation

• I will make sure that if I am no longer good enough or strong enough for you after I resolve all the above, you will not be alone, but surrounded by people who can understand, guide and support you… that you will have a world that will help you and others like you to exist and to shine…

• I will create the bridge between your world and ours. There are many other things you have taught me and that I need to do… but now I need you to trust me…and us.

Believe me, the world will change.

Please be patient. I love you!”