One Final Question

Almost twelve years ago, a former student of mine named Victoria reached out to me during her freshman year in college and asked for my help with an assignment in one of her classes.  Victoria was majoring in Special Education, and she needed to interview a special needs parent.  Victoria had been a babysitter for my daughter Angelina who was around four.  During the summer, I took my kids to the beach whenever possible, and Victoria made that possible for my family.  Dante couldn’t get enough of the sand and the waves, so all of my attention was focused on him, making sure he wasn’t agitated by others and staying right with him as he went into the ocean and collided with the waves.  Victoria played the part of “big sister” for Angelina which to me, was a Godsend. Needless to say, Victoria sensed I would be a perfect primary source for class.

Victoria stopped by my classroom one Friday afternoon just as the school day ended where she conducted her interview.  She set up her recorder, took out a pen and pencil from her bag and began asking me her questions. After about 20 minutes of Q and A, Victoria began looking over her notes to see if she went over all that she needed to.  Victoria’s eyes widened as she announced, “One final question.  What long term goals do you have for Dante moving forward?” 

I will always remember this final question, and how I answered it, because it led to a greater sense of self-awareness for me as a parent. I remember thinking to myself that Dante had made a few huge accomplishments in the last year.  In the summer of 13’ Dante began talking in full sentences. (Even though the sentences were 3-4 words long) He was also asking questions more consistently and becoming more independent with certain aspects of his life. Dante was only seven, so at the time I was very optimistic for him to achieve many more goals in the future.  Being the naive dreamer that I am, I figured the sky was the limit.

I recall going on about Dante becoming more independent, improving his speech and his fine motor skills, and maybe even one day having a job so he can feel included and have a purpose in life.  Victoria smiled and nodded as she turned off the tape-recorder.  We began to catch up a bit, I asked about her parents and sister (who I also had in class) and she asked about Angelina. Somewhere during the conversation, I began rewinding the final question in my head and I had an epiphany about what my essential long-term goals are for Dante.

I asked Victoria if we could do the final question again, because while there was nothing wrong with my original answer, as I continued to think it dawned on me what my true long-term goals were for Dante.  Victoria was very gracious as we sat back down and she turned on the recorder.  

“One final question. What are your long-term goals for Dante moving forward?”

“My long-term goals for Dante are the same long-term goals I have for Angelina. And dare I say it, they are the same long term goals I believe most parents have for their children.  Sure, I want a lot of things for both of my kids as they grow up, but at the end of day, the most important thing I want for both of them is this; I want them to be happy, and I want them to be healthy.”

Victoria smiled, almost validating my response.  Sure, I had expectations and goals in mind for Dante, despite the bad hand that he was dealt, but that question made me re-assess what was most important to me as a parent, for my autistic son and my neurotypical daughter as well.