Robinson Peete - Same but different: teen life on the autism express

Dear Ryan and RJ,

When your dad and I found out I was having twins, I knew wed been given a double blessing. A girl and a boy. Two beautiful jewels born on the same day. RJ, you arrived two minutes before Ryan.

In January of 2000, when you were three years old, our world changed forever, when your pediatrician told Dad and me, Your son has classic autism. We were crushed. We called that the Never Day because the doctor immediately listed all the nevers we could expect. She said you would never:

1. Have meaningful friendships
2. Play organized sports
3. Attend mainstream schools
4. Live on your own
5. Speak like a normal child

The list went on from there. The hardest blow, though, was when she told us that you, RJ, would never tell us that you loved us.

The irony about the diagnosis dayor D day, as we also called itwas that you, Ryan, insisted on being in the medical evaluation with RJ. Out of some twins act of solidarity, you mimicked your brother during the evaluation, refusing eye contact with the doctor and playing alone instead of trying to engage RJ like you normally did. The doctor mistakenly determined you were both on the autism spectrum.

Imagine that. Even back then, you didnt want RJ to be alone with his autism.

RJ, I thought the autism label meant you wouldnt be able to go to school with Ryan, make friends, or enjoy sports with Dad.

The doctor tried to limit and define you with her diagnosis, but your sincere soul and inviting eyes refused to let her limitations stop you. As a young child, you flourished, took on challenges, and had many triumphs.

There were some scary times, though. Shortly after your diagnosis, you elopedan autism term we would become all too familiar with. You wandered off from our home and we couldnt find you for hours. We experienced a level of panic I didnt know existed. We combed the whole neighborhood and eventually found you sitting on the roof of our house, oblivious, and clutching your Thomas the Tank Engine train, intently spinning its wheels.

You surely heard us screaming your name, but back then, you were so verbally limited that you were unable to process the fear and urgency in our voices. That was a horrific day that turned into the best daybecause we found you. And held you. And have been guiding and loving you, each and every day since that moment.

Your early school years have flown by quickly. And now, you and Ryan are in high school. Youre a handsome young man, and your sister is a beautiful young woman. You have developed verbally. You can ask for what you want. Today, when you hear an urgent tone in my voice, you have learned to know when I mean business. You still have limitations, but youve come a million miles.

Now my mission is to get you to self-advocate all the time, with friends, or with cruel kids who are trying to dupe you, or with someone who is mocking you. Or with teachers or coaches who lose their patience because they have very little experience with autism.

Like all mommies, I wish I could protect you forever. Build a giant fortress around your heart, and stand guard like a sentry. But, also like all moms, I cant shield you forever.

Now that youre a high school student, your future is unfolding before us. The necessary bridge between youth and adulthood is a very scary process. That bridge is high aboveground, and rickety at times. And while you know you want to cross over, whats on the other side seems foggy and unreachable. This is true of teenage life without autism. Add in autism, and suddenly, the risks and dangers seem insurmountable. Theyre all part of the topsy-turvy ride youve both endured on what weve come to lovingly call the Autism Express.

Ryan, youve been such a shining support for your brother. But thats taken its toll, I know. Even with your support, our family has faced many challenges. My sweet daughter, Ive watched you struggle with frustration, anger, fear. And Ive witnessed you working through so many troubling emotions. It hasnt been easy at times.

And so, to help other teens and families feel less alone, youve been brave enough to share your experiences, strength, and hope along this unpredictable journey. On these pages, youve invited readers to come along through the uncharted teen waters of school, friends, body changes, dating, and so much more. I applaud your bravery in expressing yourselves so well, and in sharing such deep and true feelings.

Telling your story in alternating voices between a twin sister and brother, you guys came up with the idea to keep the fictional names we chose for the autism sibling picture book My Brother Charlie , which we three collaborated on when you were young children. Like Same but Different , that book is based on your experiences and those of other families weve met on the Autism Express. So, once again, we introduce readers to Callieto represent a version of you, Ryan. And for you, RJ, Charlie. In this book, your younger brothers, Roman and Robinson, are also in the mix. For the sake of this story, weve named them Chris and Cole.

The title of this book revealed itself through the revealing of who you aresame but different. As twins, youre similar in so many ways, and as teenagers, you share the same hopes, worries, anxieties, and dreams as kids all over the world. But youre also such beautiful budding individuals who are different in many ways.

Through your first-person vignettes, you present the good, the badand all thats in betweenthroughout these trying years. Its a challenge for families of children who have autism, for siblings of teens with autism, and for friends of teens with autism to find stories that resonate and ring true because they come from real-life, heart-and-soul experiences.

They say if youve met one kid with autism, youve met one kid with autism. Everyone is different. Autism isnt a cookie-cutter disorder. Thats why weve collaborated on Same but Different .

Though inspired heavily and intimately by our personal family journey, Same but Different is a tapestry of collective experiences woven from our lives, as well as from those families we have been blessed to encounter along the way. One of the biggest gifts autism has given us has been the families weve met, cried with, rejoiced with, and grown stronger with as a result of our collective experiences. They have been an indispensable source of inspiration.

RJ, as you so often say, I may have autism, but autism doesnt have me. Im so proud of you and Ryan for holding hands along this path.

Ryan, thank you for being such an incredible sister and friend to your twin brother. Robinson and Roman, you two have been awesome brothers, who continue to demonstrate that you always have RJs back. And thank you both for being courageous enough to peel back the curtain of your lives so that others can witness your journeys on the Autism Express.

I love you.

Mom