Here is an amazing blog contribution from our friend Sharon Hanks! We at NSVAR know her personally and are proud to have her share with us!
Juice, Please
by Sharon M. Hanks
“What is the one thing that Mitchell could say that would help you the most?” With one sentence, the speech therapist threw down the gauntlet. She unwittingly dropped a bomb into the middle of my living room and my world. My son was twenty-nine months old and completely non-verbal. Hearing him say anything would have been like a rainbow spontaneously appearing in the palm of my hand – miraculous, beautiful, and awe inspiring.
“I just want to know what he wants,” I replied, somewhat meekly. “If he could tell me he wants juice, or food, or a toy, it would be so much easier for both of us.” Using sign language, she began to teach me and my son how to say, “I want ---, please.”
Sign language boot camp began.
Grunts and whining were no longer effective forms of communication for my son. If he wanted something, I patiently signed, “I want blahblahblah, please.” Only after I completed the signs and said the corresponding words did I offer him the object he wanted.
“What do you want, Mitchell?” He stared at me, blankly. “You need to ask me for it. You say, ‘I want to eat, please.’ Can you say that for me?”
I signed the words, “I want, please.” All day. Every day. Each time, I watched his little hands for even the slightest twitch that could be considered a sign. I was continuously disappointed. Would this work? Would he ever respond? Even without an official diagnosis, I knew his own brain was holding him hostage, wrapped in the ropes of Autism. Sign language was a key that could open the door to language for him, so I worked with him continuously. Unfortunately, delayed speech was only one of many symptoms we noticed.
There is a place of private seclusion any parent faces when they finally grasp the fact that their child’s special needs are not temporary. In that quiet, dark place, you grapple with blame and frustration, with feelings of impotence and shame. Chagrin, anger, stress – all these emotions come into your life on a daily basis. But the light in all this darkness is an intense love so ferocious and fierce that it consumes you and overrides every negative thought and feeling that has crept into your consciousness. It is this blindingly bright love that propels you forward, and enables you to fight for this precious child who is so often misunderstood.
Mitchell is no longer the child locked away without language, and his progress has been spectacular. Within a week of using sign language, the doors of language opened for him. He said, “I want juice, please.” My heart exploded with joy and relief. In that moment, I knew there was hope. Although the complexity of his issues has grown as he has matured and aged, he is a bright, happy, humorous, nine year-old boy who is starting to understand his disability. We have moved far past that simple sentence in sign language. The dark days linger around the edges of our lives from time to time but they are met with hope and determination.
