James Guttman’s new book – “Hi World, I’m Dad: How Fathers Can Journey to Autism Awareness, Acceptance, and Appreciation” is now available for preorder! Click here to get your copy from Amazon now.

This has been a major week for me. My essay, published Monday by HuffPost Personal, has gotten an incredible response. I was honored to be featured and to help share our message of autism appreciation with so many people. I’ve been blown away by the reaction.

Negative feedback from people who oppose autism didn’t flood in. In fact, the biggest pushback actually came from those who, well, didn’t really understand our situation.

The article was about me, a father to a non-verbal son, expressing that I don’t want to “cure” his autism. And the idea behind that is simple: autism is part of Lucas’s personality. Removing it would be removing a part of who he is. Do I want him to speak? Yes. Do I want him to gain life skills and independence? Absolutely. But do I want to fundamentally change him as a person? Never.

When the criticism comes, it’s usually from people who assume Lucas is high-functioning. They write me off as a sanctimonious dad who just doesn’t get it.

The pattern goes like this:

Yeah, good for you. Some of us want autism cured! Have you ever had to deal with…

Then comes a horror show checklist. Dire, heartbreaking challenges that many parents of children with profound autism face.

And in almost every case, I can quietly say “yes” to all of them.

Lucas is not high-functioning. His struggles run deep. His non-verbal approach to life doesn’t come with full comprehension. It’s a deficit in both expressive and receptive language.

Let me be clear. My son will need assistance for the rest of his life. When I’m old and gray, I’ll most likely be making long-term care decisions that will rip my heart out.

And I still don’t want to cure him.

Honestly, I don’t think he can be “cured” of anything. From what I’ve seen, autism isn’t a disease. It’s his way of being. It’s how his brain works. I can’t imagine a vitamin or a crystal changing who Lucas is. (Though God knows I get enough spam emails trying to sell me one.)

So why do I write about autism appreciation? Why do I speak so positively about Lucas?

There are a few reasons, but one stands out. Remember that horror checklist I mentioned? I didn’t write it out because you already know everything on it. We all do.

The challenges of parenting a child with special needs are everywhere. They’re in memes, blog posts, and countless Facebook updates. We’ve all seen the struggle.

What we don’t all see are the joys. That’s why I write.

Parents like me, and the people in our inner circles, are often the only ones who see the brightest spots in a life most people can’t imagine. So I share them. You already know the hard parts. Let me show you the good.

For some families, those good moments are small flickers in a difficult life. For me, it’s the opposite.

The joy my son brings is unlike anything I’ve known. Yes, there’s work. Yes, there are challenges. But those aren’t the defining parts of our relationship.

That’s just me, though.

One thing many seemed to have missed in my HuffPost piece is that I never said no one should want a cure. I said I don’t.

You do what’s right for your family. Look for answers. Seek change. I don’t live in your home, and you don’t live in mine. I don’t judge you for wanting a cure. I just wouldn’t want one in our home.

Maybe that’s because we’re different people. Maybe we have different kids.

Since I began writing about my son in 2017, I’ve always made this clear. I’m not offering a guide or a set of instructions. I’m just sharing our life. If something in it speaks to you, great. If not, I hope you still enjoy the story, get to know Lucas, and maybe see our world a little differently.

Beyond that, you do you. All I ask is one thing. Don’t lose sight of the bigger picture. Our kids are special. And no matter how challenging a phase might be, Lucas is still my son. I love him. And I want the people who only catch a glimpse of us from across a Target aisle to know that he brings far more to the table than they see in a single moment.

This is about autism appreciation

It’s about embracing the child the universe gave me and helping him become the most beautiful soul he can be.

That’s my job. And that’s why I write what I write.