I’m learning to trust the church again. I don’t know what they could have done to help my family.
Maybe they tried. I called my childhood pastor a few years ago, wondering if he noticed the growing tensions among us, and asked what he remembered about my family. Did he notice my shoulders nearing my ears or my mother weeping in the safety of church walls. How could he not? And yet nothing changed for a long time. No one intervened. I survived in the safety of books and hoped for a life apart from my family. I’ve made my own safety.
I live and work in autism land — that’s my way into this conversation about the autism spectrum and my life as a graduate student. I am an autistic woman completing her PhD in Educational Psychology. Almost three years ago, a professor who knew me relatively well, and also worked with youth with developmental disabilities, … Continue reading Living and working in Autism Land: My experiences as an autistic woman in education