Just days ago I discussed the bizarre response to RFK Jr.’s remarks on the urgency of addressing the autism problem: people whose children’s autism involves quirkiness or social awkwardness pretended to be offended that anyone would think their children needed to be “cured.”
He wasn’t talking about your children, you attention-seeking weirdos.
Well, since that time I’ve gotten to know Sarah Kernion, mom of three children, two of whom have profound, non-speaking autism.
She says the “neurodiversity” movement, which prefers to focus on milder forms of autism, which in turn it is trying to transform into yet another “identity” Americans can claim, prefers to ignore cases like hers, even though such children amount to 25 percent of all cases of autism.
Sarah’s 10-year-old and 7-year-old cannot feed themselves or go to the bathroom by themselves, and will almost surely need 24/7 care for the rest of their lives.
She just wrote this (these are only excerpts; all emphasis in original):
The neurodiversity movement needs to decide:
Does it make room for profound autism – or just for public relations?
Does it want inclusion – or just applause?
Because I’m not asking for a seat at the table anymore.
I’m building a new one – for the mothers who’ve been locked out….
There are the “good” mothers – the ones who keep their trauma tidy.
And there are the rest of us – the ones who tell the truth in real time.
We speak about bruises, broken windows, school calls, regressions, diapers at 14.
We speak about how long we’ve gone without sleep, how many doors we’ve replaced, how many therapists we’ve cycled through.
We speak about grief. Ours. Theirs. Unspoken, unsolved, sacred.
We speak, because if we don’t, nobody will know what’s happening behind our closed doors.
She refers to an effort to
consolidate “acceptable” stories about autism into one singular, sunny brand.
One that’s easier to fund, market, retweet, and present to a company’s DEI committee.
In this version of the story:
There’s no violence. No agony. No desperation.
No mothers sobbing in the grocery store bathroom after carrying a screaming child past the stares and whispers.
No mothers crying in their car after being told “your child doesn’t qualify for a one-to-one aide.”
No children with shattered iPads and open bite marks.
No schools that say, “We can’t help him anymore.”
Well, I just spoke to Sarah Kernion on the Tom Woods Show, and I think you should hear it:
Now I never, ever, appeal to a podcaster to feature a certain guest. It’s tacky. I am making an exception for Sarah, who has made an open appeal to Joe Rogan. She thinks he could be the only person willing to listen, and who can break the wall of silence.
Here’s my post on X for Sarah. Feel free to repost (but do not neglect to listen to the episode):
https://x.com/ThomasEWoods/status/1917699019511415124
