If anyone had told me this moment would be possible even a year ago, I wouldn't have believed it. But autism or no autism, we have no idea what is possible ... Life is a spectrum, yes, but it is so much more. It has dimensions we can't see and takes us on a journey that has as many ups and downs as it has steps forward. Ask a parent to describe a moment so joyful that she can't swallow the tears fast enough, and we realize how inadequate words are to describe life. Luckily, we have more than words. We have iPhones. And we have music ...


Neighborhood. It’s so old-school, right? Most of us probably live in places where there is very little within walking distance. We probably have to drive to school, to the grocery store, to the office.


I’m lucky enough to live in an American community in which I can walk my son to school. When I first realized that was possible, I thought it was cool, kind of a novelty. I thought it would potentially be an outlet for all the energy Billy needs to exert before he can settle down in the morning. I thought it would be a great way to talk about things we see, things we plan to do, where we are going.


All these things turned out to be true. But I had no idea what I would come to value most about our walks to and from elementary school.


High Fives
Every morning, Billy meets Mr. David on his walk to school and gives him a big high-five. Or a small high five. Or he just buries his head in Mr. David’s chest. It depends on his mood. Mr. David is his neighbor, and his hands are up, or his arms are open, depending upon whether Billy needs a high-five or a hug.


Billy used to be dog-phobic. SERIOUSLY dog-phobic. Still is with some dogs. But every Wednesday, we look forward to an encounter with the world’s sweetest and most docile Golden Retriever, Santos, and his owner. Because of this kind, patient neighbor, Billy is no longer completely dog-phobic. Though Chihuahuas still kinda freak him out.


It helps to be known around the neighborhood if your child is going to Trick or Treat with the opening line of “Look at that Grandma! She’s a witch!” Particularly, if the woman in question is, at most, around the age of 40. It helps to be known if your autistic child decides that one particular house deserves to be Trick-or-Treated five times in a row. If you can act genuinely surprised and delighted the fourth time that autistic Peter Pan tricks and treats your house, you will absolutely be getting a holiday basket from the ‘Feet.


Outdoor Safety
Because we walk to school, I’ve had the chance to practice road safety with Billy. He’s learned to “wait at the edge” of the road and look both ways for cars. And when he ignores all my warnings and barrels toward the intersection, Mr. Cedric, the school crossing guard, has a few words with him. Mr. Cedric is one of the kindest, most thoughtful people I know, and he has a personal and encouraging word for Billy every morning. And in the afternoon, if Billy has had a good day, Mr. Cedric is one of the first people to celebrate that fact.


Nothing warms my heart more than the moments when the people in my neighborhood help me keep my son from running into traffic. Mr. Cedric is a god in our household. He’s like Santa. All I have to say is, “Billy, this is Mr. Cedric’s sidewalk, and he is watching you,” and immediately, he slows down.


Billy has a few friends he sees only on his walk to school. They’re all neurotypical. Some walk. Some ride bikes or scooters. Many of them call him by name. One truly beautiful big-eyed girl actually makes a point to knock on our door a couple of afternoons a week. She plays Wii with Billy, helps me feed the fish, chats about her school day, and generally renews my faith in the human race.


I’ll be honest with you: There are moments when I think it would be easier to NOT be out “in the neighborhood.” It would be a lot easier to pick Billy up and drop him off by car, because every moment and encounter is not positive.


But my neighborhood has shown me how understanding a community can be. And not just understanding, but also rewarding to both me and my son. If I do my job correctly, then he’ll be as independent as is possible for him; he’ll have to be comfortable interacting with the world around him.


I can only hope that he’s lucky enough to live in a neighborhood like ours.


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It is special to live in that kind of neighborhood. But even more importantly - how nice that you take the time out to walk your son to school. I did the same thing with my son, even though every other child his age walked by himself.

We had some special moments, that I treasure to this day.

Good to see you back!

This is so much like Goldilocks' walk to school. And he too finds small dogs more frightening than larger ones. I think it's a sensory issue—all that yapping hurts my ears, too.

I love this post, Amanda! How fortunate you are to live in such a great neighbourhood!

Have a wonderful Christmas!


Chihuahuas freak me out, too.

That sounds so amazing. That's a lot of holiday baskets, though. I guess that's the one bright side of living next door to Mr. Meth Head instead of Mr. Cedric. ;)

What an incredible testimony to everyone you mentioned in this post. Our neighborhood is kind of the opposite - our houses are so far apart that there's not much dropping in and visiting - the school is definitely not a walkable distance away. What a gift that you have an arrangement that works so well for you and Billy --- I have a feeling all of those people (and canines) you discuss are getting as much out of the deal as you are. Thank you for sharing all of this.

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