Autism Awareness month is in full swing and it’s 30 days of representation in media. Movies, shows, and everything in between are set to spotlight how autism isn’t really that different from those who aren’t on the spectrum.

You know the shows I mean. Someone with autism seems to be socially isolated only to come around in the last 20 minutes and do something amazing in the traditional sense. The happy ending has a kid catching a football, getting the prom crown, or saving the roller rink by solving a math problem. The moral is that those with autism are really just like us.

So what’s my issue? Well, my son may be similar in some sense of the word, he isn’t “just like” you. Lucas is unique in some of the most beautiful and individual ways you can imagine. His story has no touchdowns or school dances. His story is solely his and his alone.

Don’t get me wrong. I understand the importance of these movies. They spotlight the similarities that exist and how some people with autism can easily be a part of society. It’s a positive message that helps others understand autism and how to accept it into their world.

This was a subject that I wanted to address when I appeared on Jubilee’s YouTube video on autism. My non-verbal child was rarely if ever, depicted in the feel-good broadcasts of April. The stories weren’t about those with, what some would call, “severe autism”.

Lucas’s world doesn’t exist on the outskirts of ours, ready to shine when handed a football. Lucas has an entire life that is specific to him. He has things he likes, understands, and gravitates to that don’t coincide with the rest of us or, in many cases, even make sense to most people.

My son has no desire to work his way into your social circles. He does what he feels. He feels what he loves. His goal is to be happy in any way that makes him smile. It’s the purest approach to living that anyone could have and I envy him for being so true to himself.

Lucas’s drummer, who he marches to the beat of, is on a day-to-day contract. What he likes one day, might not be the same tomorrow. He does what he feels in the moment and a lot of his reactions are a surprise for all of us,

For example, I took my kids to the MindTravel musical pop-up event recently. Speakers were placed around the room with different instruments playing from each one to create an immersive symphony. We were surrounded by music. The experience was pretty fantastic.

Do you know what my boy did? He held his sister’s hand and examined her nails as the sounds rocked us all to relaxation. Then, when he was done doing that, he stared into her eyes…for like 30 minutes.

For those who saw him from afar, it looked like he was sweetly gazing at the girl who often helps him through his days. That might be partially true, but those who know my son knew there was more to it than that. He was looking at the reflection of light in her eyeballs. Seriously.

That’s Lucas, the kid who spent his youth staring at the glare in the sliding glass doors of our old home. We once had to leave a sensory play gym because he couldn’t pull himself away from the giant window in the lobby. Lucas likes reflections in any form.

Have you ever seen an autism movie about a boy who loves glares and reflections? I haven’t. I don’t think they make one about my son. Sure, the star would be adorable, but the plot would be rather thin. There’s no end scene with a stadium full of people cheering that on.

Don’t get me wrong. Programs that show people with autism, eager to be a part of the community, and being let into those social circles are important. They help those without autism understand that people on the spectrum eager for acceptance should be accepted. These movies are needed to help that happen. They do a lot to help some really good people. They don’t, however, affect us.

My son doesn’t need programs like these to show him to the world because – no offense – he doesn’t want to be on your basketball team or hospital staff. He wants to live his life and enjoy what he enjoys. He doesn’t need a movie about a boy starting at reflections because – again, no offense – he doesn’t care if you accept that he does it.

He’s doing it anyway. What you think of it means nothing to him. Save your movie budget for someone else.

Lucas doesn’t live on the fringe of our world hoping to be let in. We live on the fringe of his. He’s the one who allows us to share in his applause or stare into our eyes for a glimpse of the light behind him. The reason there are no movies about Lucas is because Lucas’s world can’t be summed up in a script. It’s his own creation and I’m in awe of it every day.