When I was about 20 years old, my mom went to see a psychic. She saw a psychic more than that one time. All the other times she’d been, she would return to say how dumb it was and a waste of time. Mad at herself for her gullability, she would go long periods where it seemed she had given up on that sort of thing. Then, like clockwork, some friend would say how great some psychic was and off she would go.
The last time she ever went, at least, to my knowledge, was this time when I was in college. Why do I remember this? The psychic said something to her that was brought up to me repeatedly and has stuck with me all this time.
The psychic told her she would have one grandchild. The grandchild would be a boy and -wait for it – the boy would grow up to be a Senator. Yes. Not a public servant. Not go into some form of politics. She said he’d be a Senator.
When she first told me, at age 20, and after I stopped laughing, I was pretty, pretty pleased with myself. After all, I must be some great mom in the future to raise my baby to become such an influential politician. After all, there are only 100 Senators in the U.S. Congress. Oh, wait! Was that the U.S. Congress or the state legislature? Oh well, guess I’ll have to wait to find out.
Repeatedly, throughout my 20s my mom would remind me of the prophesy and tell me how what the psychic said is going to come true. Yeah, yeah, I would say. Ridiculous. After all, I had entertained no thoughts of having a child then, much less a husband. I was not sure I would ever have a child at all.
Then, along came the little T-man. And, of course, I was reminded again, of the prophesy. There he is. The one, male grandchild the psychic had predicted ump-teen million years ago! Here I was beginning to fulfill the prophesy!
Then, the little guy grew. He grew out of his onesies and into some little toddler pants. When his diagnosis came at age 3 years and 10 months. I was preoccupied with the devastation of that diagnosis, of finding treatments, of looking for support and had forgotten about (or stashed away in my mind) the political prophesy.
How was this kid now going to become a Senator? What are the odds that someone with a condition that makes him socially awkward, less likely to read social cues, with language and communication disabilities, would become a politician at all, much less a Senator?
Was a little cognitive dissonance creeping into my thought pattern? Are the concepts of autism and politics opposites? Not necessarily.
Barriers and beliefs are meant to be stretched and sometimes, broken. Look at Ari Ne-eman, the first autistic White House appointee. Regardless of what you believe about his neurodiversity advocacy, he is a successful figure in a political world who has autism.
My opinion? Whatever my only child, the son with the prophesy, wants to be – he will become. That’s simply the power of human will. Human desire. He will succeed at whatever he sets his little heart and mind to do. Autism won’t stop him. It may slow him down. It may cause him to think and analyze differently, but that will just give him more time to reflect. He may not see how someone else feels about his opinion but that will just make him an impassioned advocate with an iron will. And isn’t that something to be admired?
We shall see. Maybe my mom’s friend was right and that psychic is good. She has hit two out of three. Stay tuned.