Kennedy Jr. is a prime example of individuals who have forgotten the power and potential harm that words can cause harm to autism students.
Words matter. We often learn this simple but important concept before we enter preschool or kindergarten. For some reason, many people with large platforms often seem to forget this principle. Health and Human Services Secretary Robert F. Kennedy Jr. is a prime example of individuals who have forgotten the power and potential harm that words can cause.
In a recent interview, Kennedy referred to autism as a “preventable disease”: a statement that not only lacks scientific consensus but also risks reinforcing deeply harmful misconceptions. As a parent, teacher, and advocate, I must respond.
It would be easy to react to Kennedy’s recent statements about the causes and potential new studies on autism. However, a response is not only warranted but potentially will be more thoughtful and effective than a mere reaction.
Kennedy described autism as a “preventable disease,” although researchers and scientists have identified genetic factors that are associated with it. Autism is not considered a disease, but a complex disorder that affects the brain. (PBS)
Words matter. Referring to autism as a “disease” can reinforce harmful stereotypes and contribute to negative perceptions of autistic individuals in society. Being autistic does not mean you have an illness or disease. It means your brain works in a different way from other people. (NHS) As mothers of children with autism, we already face enough stereotypes about our children without having them labeled as having a disease.
Autism destroys families, and more importantly, it destroys our greatest resource, which is our children. These are children who should not be suffering like this,” Kennedy said. “These are kids who will never pay taxes, they’ll never hold a job, they’ll never play baseball, they’ll never write a poem, they’ll never go out on a date. Many of them will never use a toilet unassisted. (ABC News)
Words matter. Autism is a spectrum. As a mother of a child with autism, words like “destroy”, “suffering”, and absolutes like “never” are disappointing, disheartening, discouraging, and quite transparently triggering. If children are truly “our greatest resource,” why would someone with millions of listeners make such generalizing statements about an entire spectrum of neurodiversity?
Kristyn Roth, chief marketing officer for the Autism Society of America, stated the following:
I know plenty of autistic individuals that do all of those things, and I also know autistic individuals who may require 24/7 care,” she said. “But to dehumanize people and invalidate their experiences or generalize an entire community is incredibly harmful and offensive. (NPR)
Many parents, like myself, hope for our children to be independent, self-sufficient, and contributing members of society, with the ability to form loving and nurturing relationships in the future. We advocate for their educational rights, seek out therapy and support services, and do our part at home to help them achieve these goals. To claim that all children on the autism spectrum will “never” achieve the things every parent hopes for their child is not only harmful to the children but also to the parents who dedicate their lives to helping their children reach those goals. As educators, it’s also our responsibility to reframe the negative narratives surrounding autism and neurodiversity as a whole.
The Role of Educators in Reframing the Narrative
Words matter.
Words can be short and easy to speak, but their echoes are truly endless. ― Mother Teresa
The ways in which educators refer to our students with diverse needs are as impactful as the harmful words Kennedy used in his speech. Shifting our language from “special needs” to ‘diverse needs’ seems like a simple change, but it carries a deeper impact. This small change can truly promote a more inclusive and positive perspective on individuals with diverse abilities” (Learning for Justice). When we shift the conversation about diversifying our curriculum to meet the needs of all students, including those who are neurologically diverse, from seeing it as a challenge to viewing it as an opportunity to learn, we create a more positive approach to better supporting every student. Additionally, offering diverse ways to create safe spaces for students to communicate with us allows neurologically diverse students to express their unique needs in ways that feel private and confidential.
Further, embracing the beautiful “diversity,” our neurodiverse students focused on their unique differences and strengths they bring to our classroom settings. I often share stories of my first student with autism. He had an innate intelligence, an incredible memory, and a focus on detail that I began to rely on in our everyday interactions. My student had a remarkable ability to recall prior lessons and was quick to identify any inconsistencies in the daily agenda or lesson plans. We often say that teachers learn from their students, but when we take the time to truly learn from our neurodiverse students, those lessons can shape us into more thoughtful and effective educators for everyone in the classroom.
Educators can’t expect to reframe the negative narratives surrounding neurodiversity if we’re not willing to step out of our comfort zones and challenge harmful statements like the ones Kennedy made. The strategies listed above are ones I’ve learned are essential not only for being an advocate but also for being a catalyst for change.
Words matter. Organizations like The Autism Society have thankfully challenged statements like those made by Kennedy. It is essential to challenge the “inaccurate narratives” being spread about the autism community. Kennedy’s words are also one of the reasons why I began to write children’s books, narratives, and educational articles about my son’s journeys. The negative stigmas around autism were my catalyst for change. It has truly become my mission to “dismantle stigma, center authentic narratives, and give neurodivergent Black children the spotlight they deserve.”
Words matter. Statements like those made by Kennedy have prompted me to deeply reflect on what it truly means to be a parent, educator, and advocate for children with autism.
I am a parent. Having a son with autism has not only given me a second chance at motherhood as my miracle rainbow child, but he has also inspired me to advocate for neurodiverse children. I am an educator. As a teacher, my son has given me a deeper understanding of my neurodiverse students, a greater empathy for their parents, and the motivation to research more and seek additional training to better support them. I am an advocate. My son awakened the advocate in me. I have always advocated for students’ voices, teachers’ voices, and the voices of marginalized or underrepresented groups, but now I have a personal commitment to advocating for neurodiverse voices.
Words matter. While this parent, teacher, and advocate draws strength from my son’s journey, as well as the lessons I have learned but my beautifully neurodiverse students over two decades in education, my heart goes out to those whom Kennedy’s words have hurt. Perhaps he should reflect on these words from an unknown author.
The tongue has no bones, but is strong enough to break a heart. So be careful with your words. -Unknown