Think Different
Written by Matt Borden
Our five-year old son Nathaniel’s official autism diagnosis came earlier this year. It wasn’t a surprise. By the age of three his development started to take a different turn and it just kept turning. It was not in the plans but that’s how life goes.
Before we had Nathaniel, my impressions of autism and neurodiverse (ND) kids came strictly from popular culture and my social network. When I heard about a parent with a special needs child, I had the same reaction you might have when you find out someone has an incurable illness. I felt sympathy and a measure of relief. Like, “damn I’m glad that’s not me, I can’t imagine how hard that would be.”
And then one day you are taking a walk with your son and you notice he starts counting and doesn’t stop. Soon, a calculator becomes an extension of his hand. Numbers fill his brain. That was the time I was less interested in who Nathaniel was, and more interested in who he would become. I would future trip until my eyes bled. And when I did that, it was hard to be present for the good stuff happening.
Nathaniel’s diagnosis was hard to comprehend because he didn't fit neatly into what I thought Autism was. This was a kid who loved to snuggle, and would drape himself on top of you with a smile a mile wide. This was a kid with a hilarious sense of humor who made jokes about me being bald. This was a person with so much charisma that I watched in real time as people fell under his spell. I joked he could be a cult leader, because there are so many people who feel connected to him and would do ANYTHING on his behalf. People meet Nathaniel and fall in love. I wasn’t counting on that.
Being the parent of a ND child isn’t easy, especially when the world is set up for folks who are neurotypical. It can be isolating and exhausting. ND parents also double as translators, advocates, and as cheerleaders ‒ the greatest publicists you’ll ever meet. But being his dad has expanded my view of the world 100X and that only has made me a better person, a better parent, and even a better coach.
I am able to glimpse at the world through his lens, and when I do, it’s easy to understand why we derive strength from diversity and inclusion at all levels. That’s not a talking point, it’s a fact. He sees things the way others don’t, and that’s where great ideas are born.
One small tangible example is his creativity. I often work with clients who bemoan the lack of creativity on their teams, they don’t think “out of the box.” If only they could intern for Nathaniel.
In fact, because he thinks expressions are hilarious, I asked Nathaniel what he thought of the concept of thinking “out of the box.” He laughed and asked if I was making a joke and then unprompted told me a better choice would be “out of this world.” He’s probably right.
But when I think about what I want for my clients, it’s so much of what Nathaniel already has. A love of learning, a zest for life, a worldview based in joy and sharing laughs with those closest to him. These are beautiful things. And I was totally clueless about all of it before he was born. I’m not anymore.
I used to stress about the future. I still do but I also can’t wait to see what happens next. As a coach I’ve been trained to dance in the moment with my clients. But when it comes to Nathaniel, we aren’t just dancing, it’s a full-on pop and lock breakdancing crew with doses of ballet, salsa, and flamenco thrown in for good measure. And we’re just gearing up. The best is yet to come.
Written by Matt Borden