See Sam Run: A Mother's Story of Autism

Epilogue

EPILOGUE DURING OUR FIRST WEEKS back in Sacramento in the fall of 1992, we sought out many of the sort of services for Sam, both from the school and in the community, that resembled the impressive programs we saw in Syracuse. Sam attended kindergarten in the morning. The special education teacher and one of the kindergarten teachers combined their students and curriculum into one room with a lot of help from the teachers’ aides. I liked to think that guests visiting the classroom wouldn’t be able to tell, at first blush, which kids were special, just like I couldn’t tell the difference among the students in the integrated classrooms in Syracuse. In the afternoon, Sam went to a Montessori school, where he spent a lot time around kids his own age. That helped his speech and social development as much as his schoolwork did. Mark and I still spent an hour or two each day working with Sam on small things we knew were important, such as taking turns playing games or learning to use a fork and knife. Shortly before the holidays, I discovered that I was pregnant with our third child. A week later, the Sacramento Symphony declared bankruptcy, which derailed Mark’s career. Because of proposed cuts in the state budget, we were also afraid my new 166 “I’m caring for my sister Paige.” job with the California Arts Council would be eliminated with a sweep of the governor’s pen. We decided to move to Texas, hoping for better career opportunities. Old friends from North Texas State, now the University of North Texas, helped us make the leap. We sold our house in California, and rented a small house in the tiny town of Argyle, about ten miles south of Denton. Eventually, we were able to buy ten acres and build our own home in the hopes that the children would enjoy opportunities afforded by life on a farm. We had braced ourselves for fewer social services and less progressive schools than New York, or even California, especially after we learned that many Texas schools still paddled children as a form of discipline. But Argyle’s teachers had big hearts and enormous energy. During the first few weeks at Argyle Elementary, for example, Sam had trouble staying focused on his work through the sound of the school bells. Principal Gaye Pittman simply turned them all off. She told the teachers that, until further notice, they needed to keep track of the time themselves. I had been responsible for so much of Sam’s education for so long, it felt a little foreign to just sit back and let the teachers do their job. I enjoyed just being Sam’s mom. Watching Sam’s progress over the last dozen years has been one of the great joys of my life. He graduated from high school with the rest of his class. He’s a big fan of Harry Potter and John R. Erickson’s Hank the Cowdog misadventures. With the help of a Texas Rehabilitative Services job coach, he got his first part-time job as a courtesy clerk at Albertsons. He takes several classes each semester at North Central Texas College in Corinth with the help of advisors and counselors in the access programs. And he’s learning how to drive. In high school, Sam took four years of Spanish, science and math, and was on the honor roll more often than not. He has 168 Epilogue Epilogue 169 struggled with some of his college studies. Yet he is undeterred. Sam is steadfast and determined to live an independent life. I’m confident he will achieve his goal. Read his “Senior Scrapbook ” on the next page to see if you agree. ...