5 Things I Wish People Knew About My Nonverbal Child

In a lot of ways, my 3-year-old son is a typical kid: He loves to run and play. He enjoys a good tickle fight, dancing to music, playing games on my phone, and hearing a good bedtime story.

His Global Delays, however, sets him far apart from his peers. Having a child that doesn’t speak is a big enough challenge. A lot of the time, unfortunately, the challenge comes from the people around him. They think that because he can’t talk, he is essentially a waste of space. They couldn’t be more wrong. Here are five things I wish people understood about my son:

1. He doesn’t talk. That does not mean he cannot hear you. There are actually two types of language skills: expressive and receptive. I am guilty of forgetting this, too, and I am sure that the first thing he will regularly say if he ever starts talking is swear words he picked up from being in the car with me. Don’t talk about him like he isn’t there or use baby talk. Talk to him like you would any other kid. We do. He knows when people are underestimating him, and he plots accordingly.

2. He has a sense of humor. Actually, he’s a bit of a smart aleck. He has a good grip on sarcasm, which is impressive for a 3-year-old. I’ll pay someone a compliment, and he’ll laugh and shake his head. You can tell him to do something and he will pretend he can't hear you but he's there, very obviously - though not to him - watching you out of the corner of his eye and smiling away. 

3. He’s not Rain Man. It’s great that you saw that movie but not all non verbal/Autism works like that. He’s not going to tell me how many toothpicks I just dropped on the floor. He’s not going to compose a symphony on his toy piano. He doesn’t get a magical talent to compensate for the fact that his brain is wired differently. And even if he did, I’m not going to make him whip it out like it’s a party trick.

4. He can read people like it’s a profession. He is an adorable hustler. He will pick the sucker in the room and play them like he’s a pool shark. He knows that the quickest path from A to B is not a straight line but making somebody else do the walking for him. It works, too. He has played teachers, therapists, and family members. His cuteness is hard to resist but—as I actually had to tell a teacher’s aide once—no, I do not sit there all day and just hold him. He is a wriggly, energetic boy. You try holding that all day long.

5. He is more than his disability. You may just see the kid who is quietly watching the world or holding an adults hand and pointing, but he is so much more than that. He is a real little boy who has trouble communicating. Do not underestimate him, not just because all people should be treated with respect, but because you’d miss out on knowing a really great kid.