Autism. The word often evokes strong reactions.We are told autism is an irreversible, lifelong condition. Such a diagnosis leaves parents devastated, with little hope for their children’s future improvement or recovery. With the incidence of autism exploding worldwide, the question becomes urgent. Can we help our children overcome a condition most insist is insurmountable? For me, the answer is “Yes,” and it’s based upon my own experience— I used to have autism.

I was a seemingly normal, happy infant, but as my first year of life drew to a close, I began to withdraw from human contact. I ceased to look at people, and instead became enamored with inanimate objects. When held, I would let my arms dangle lifelessly at my sides. As the months progressed, I retreated into my silent world. I became mute, and not only displayed a lack of concrete language, but also made no apparent effort to communicate, such as crying or pointing. When others reached out to me, I shied away from their touch as if it would burn. I began to exhibit repetitive behaviors, spending hours spinning plates, rocking back and forth, or flapping my hands in my face.

And with this diagnosis came a dark prognosis. Autism, as the doctors explained, was an incapacitating, life-long condition — an incurable, irreversible affliction described as hopeless. A box of impossibilities was built around me, sealing me in and separating me from all the things that I “would never” accomplish. I would never learn to speak or relate to others. I would never learn to read or write. I would never prefer people to objects. I would never play baseball, go to school, write poems, hang out  

My parents took me to an array of specialists. Batteries of tests were given. Observations were conducted. The focus and experience of the professionals brought to bear the diagnosis of severe autism, with a tested I.Q. of less than 30. It was presented with great sorrow, as if someone had died.

But in what could have been my parents’ darkest moments, they shined as their own brightest lights. They decided to see me not as a tragedy, but as a blessing. In spite of the doom and gloom around them, they chose a different perspective. What others called hopeless, they called hopeful. What others deemed impossible, they deemed possible.

This was the foundation of what would become a transformational program for me and for thousands of others.