Autism, While Black

“When we leave the house, my son’s behavior challenges mean I have no idea what to expect from him, and his race means I have no idea what to expect from others.”

By Elna Moore Hall

A few years ago, I moved with my husband and children to a small suburb, known for its community safety, tree-lined streets, and stellar school system. I was excited about the move, our new house, and the great education resources I’d heard so much about. This move, for us, was a win. So as moving day approached, we busied ourselves with all the activities we knew were necessary for a successful transition: we packed boxes, transferred utilities, officially changed our address. And we took our youngest son to the town’s police headquarters.

My son has a severe form of autism. My son is Black.

Black families are a rarity in that suburb, and his father and I both instinctively knew what we needed those police officers to understand: that our pre-teen son who they may see in the community is a legal resident, not an intruder, a criminal or a threat, and they need to know his name and face. That he can’t explain those facts to an officer because he is nearly nonverbal and will not be able to answer them if questioned. That he has no understanding of his legal rights if stated to him. That he engages in behavior many people would consider odd, including…