Sun

Water is the mother of tea, a teapot its father, and fire the teacher. ~ Chinese Proverb

His sunshine is too big

to fit the dimensions others demand

for a pity poster boy.

He'll shred that poster

and burn it up in his flight

to the sky he chooses for himself.

Notes from the Real World: So I am not the only Driks to get published in 2018. My son Max had an article accepted by Public Source (a digital news source based out of Pittsburgh) about his experiences growing up as a person on the Autism spectrum that was published just as the year was taking its final bows.

There was a time when most of the discussion on the internet about children on the spectrum revolved around how hard the parents had it. While Max would be the first one to laugh if I said raising him was a breeze (and probably follow it up with a sheepish, "Sorry, Mom"), to claim it was all weariness and gloom would be a bigger joke. 

Firstly, there are always going to be challenging parts of parenthood. Good gods, even the Brady Bunch had their ups and downs. Secondly, I wouldn't wish away any part of my seriously witty, creative, off-beat kid young man. Raising him has been an honor. Getting to see how fired up he's become about writing (something that would probably come as a shock to some of his middle school teachers) is just a bonus. 

No matter where we come from, it is our own unique life experiences that shape and spark our voices as writers, whether we write fiction or non-fiction. I've been very candid with my son when we talk shop (between sessions of video game playing and political comedy watching) about how my experience as a first generation Latina-American shades a lot of the perspectives that come through in my writing (he was one of my first beta readers for my book and was able to spot the nuances - as well as get a good chuckle when he recognized the inspiration behind the budding storyteller enthralled by kooky hats).

He’s also talked to me about how important it was to him to have his voice as a person on the spectrum heard. On one such occasion, a look of dawning horror crossed over his face as he realized how passionate he was getting while discussing things like writing, representation, and authenticity of voice.

"I think I'm turning into you, Mom", he said.

"Sorry, Son," I replied. 

Song Choice: I could have gone so many ways with this. Baby Mine comes to mind when I remember sitting through IEP meetings with my husband, as we fiercely advocated for schooling that wasn't limited by the expectations people had for kids with a spectrum diagnosis. Dear Theodosia is a good fit because all of the pride I feel. And I have jokingly sang back lines from The Cat's in the Cradle to him when he remarks upon politics or writing ("My boy was just like me").

But there is one song I always associate with Max. Sometimes a song will pop into my head with no warning and it can be almost an omen of sorts. The moment I finished taking the pregnancy test that let me know Max was on his way, REM's The End of the World (As We Know It) popped on, right at the slow/ quiet part of the song (the guitar jam started right up as that blue line came into focus). When I was driving in the car, that song came on soon after Max's text to the family announcing the article's publication. I'll take that as a good omen for the birth of an author.

Lenny Bruce is not afraid. Neither is Max.

Photo by Ryan Loew/ Public Source