What’s Your Name?

We walked into our favorite Thai restaurant to pick up our carry-out order when my 7-year-old son James began greeting all of the customers.

“Hi,” he said with a huge smile to each person we passed.

For the last several months, James, who was diagnosed with autism at two, has developed a love for meeting new people and learning their names.

For a while he would just point at people and say, “Who’s that?”

So, with our team of ABA therapists, we have been teaching him to introduce himself.

I was very excited when the first thing he said to the young man behind the counter was, “Hi, my name is James and this is my mommy. What’s your name?”

“I’m Wilson,” he replied with a smile.

I told Wilson our order and he went into the kitchen.

When he returned, James quickly said, “Thanks Wilson.”

We both smiled as Wilson handed me the receipt. As I started to sign it, Wilson stepped away to pick up another order.

He re-emerged and delivered the food to the family at the table next to us. And once again, James said, “Thanks Wilson.”

By this time, all of the guests around us were enjoying listening to James and some were smiling and commenting to one another.

As I picked up our order and encouraged James to head to the car, he must have realized that he had an audience and he began to introduce himself to the others.

He started with a couple and their young son. Then he moved onto the gentleman in the very nice suit next to them. And then to the women sipping their wine across the aisle.

While I was walking alongside him, trying to convince James to walk towards the door, I couldn’t help but enjoy what was happening in front of me.

James said hello to every person in the restaurant that night.

Each time, he approached them with the same smile, excitement, and inflection in his voice.

It didn’t matter what color they were, whether they were dining alone, or if they were dressed up or in casual clothes.

James didn’t see any of that. He just saw them.

And it was absolutely beautiful to witness how genuinely excited he was to meet them.

There have been many days when I have been painfully aware that strangers can see the differences in James compared to children his age.

Whether it’s his expressions or the way he flaps his arms and jumps, James typically stands out in a crowd. And it’s behaviors that people often notice before they have the chance to get to know him.

Thankfully, James is usually welcomed by new people. He has a charming way about him that attracts others.

But there have been many times when we haven’t been met with such kindness.

About a month ago we were at the park when James ran to greet a woman watching her daughter on the swings.

He recited his same speech and ended by asking her name.

We had been playing near them for more than an hour and I heard her speaking with her daughter and having a great time.

I knew they had observed James as he threw little rocks into the nearby lake and jumped with glee as they splashed. 

My mother’s intuition told me it would be okay for him to approach her and I anticipated her to be accepting.

So, I was surprised when she didn’t respond to him.

James asked again. Still nothing.

At this point, I knew I needed to intervene.

“Come on buddy, let’s go back to the lake,” I said as I noticed the familiar look of discomfort on her face.

I’ve seen it before in plenty of goodhearted folks who just aren’t sure how to respond to James. His voice sounds different and is hard to understand sometimes and that makes interacting with him difficult to navigate.

My head was telling me to let this woman off the hook, but my heart ached for James.

“What’s her name,” he asked again as I held his hand and led him back to the water.

“I don’t know, James. She doesn’t want to tell us her name and that’s okay.”

But honestly, I really wanted to turnaround and yell at her, “Just make up a name, lady! Anything! If only you knew how far this little boy has come. Just tell him your name!”

But even though I don’t understand why she hesitated, it’s really not her fault. She’s not expected to tell him her name.

And she’s certainly not required to do it just because he has autism.

Unfortunately, it was another reminder that he does.

Our fleeting exchange dredged up years of my heartbreaking fear that James will encounter many unexpected moments when he’s not accepted by others. And even worse, I may not be there to hold his hand and walk him to safety.     

But I refuse to allow that fear to beat us.

While autism brings stress, worry, and a handful of other conflicting emotions, there are also parts that are incredibly rewarding and simply lovely.

And that’s what we choose to see.

My prayer is that James will experience far more occasions like our restaurant trip when he is not only accepted but he is celebrated and appreciated for being exactly who is – the sweet little boy who delights in learning who you are. 

Written by, Amanda Ledbetter

Amanda Ledbetter lives in Spartanburg, South Carolina with her husband, Jay, and two children, Ellie and James. James was diagnosed with autism at age two and thriving with the help and support of his wonderful therapists and teachers.

Interested in writing for Finding Cooper’s Voice? LEARN MORE

Finding Cooper’s Voice is a safe, humorous, caring and honest place where you can celebrate the unique challenges of parenting a special needs child. Because you’re never alone in the struggles you face. And once you find your people, your allies, your village….all the challenges and struggles will seem just a little bit easier. Welcome to our journey. You can also follow us on Facebook, subscribe for exclusive videos, and subscribe to our newsletter.