Parenting is a life-changing experience, and this is an understatement if you are the parent of a neurodivergent child.
I am a parent to an autistic young adult who is 21 and a neurotypical primary schooler who is 9. My world of parenting is a study in contrasts. The lessons I learnt while parenting my autistic child have probably made me a far more relaxed parent to my younger one, and the reason is quite simple.
The growth and development of a neurotypical child generally follows a familiar path—infancy, toddlerhood, preschool, primary school, middle school, high school, college, work, and so on. Somewhere along the way, your role gradually changes from being a hands-on parent to a mentor, and eventually to the forever-available 3 a.m. friend.
Parenting an autistic child is anything but predictable. Every stage brings decisions that feel weighty, and there are rarely clear answers. Yet the hope that sustains most of us is the hope that one day, we too will become that forever-available 3 a.m. friend to our autistic child.
When I look back at my journey over the past 21 years, a few lessons stand out—lessons learnt while navigating what I have come to think of as the decision trap. Parenting does not come with a manual, and parenting an autistic child often feels like taking the road less travelled. Here are three decisions that shaped my journey.
Traversing the Therapy Landscape
One of the first things that follows an autism diagnosis is a list of recommended therapies. More often than not, these recommendations come with very little explanation of what each therapy does or why it is needed.
Autism is a neurodevelopmental disorder—a definition that a quick internet search will readily provide. But what does that actually mean? How does autism influence a child’s development, learning, and everyday life?
Our understanding of the world develops through our senses. Many autistic people experience sensory differences, sometimes significant enough to affect development in very practical ways. In young children, this may show up as challenges with eating, wearing certain clothes, brushing their teeth, combing their hair, using the toilet, cutting their nails, and many other everyday activities that most of us take for granted.
For me, the first priority is addressing these foundational challenges. Often supported by occupational therapy, these interventions help children participate more comfortably and independently in daily life.
Communication is another cornerstone of development. Speech and communication, however, are not the same thing. For many autistic people, meaningful communication may involve spoken language, augmentative and alternative communication (AAC), or other forms of expression. Working towards effective communication—not simply speech—is, I believe, one of the most important goals of early intervention.
The Schooling Dilemma
As a practitioner of inclusive education, I firmly believe that every child can learn, provided we teach the child in the way they learn best.
That said, autism is an extremely broad spectrum. It includes people as different as Elon Musk and someone who may require round-the-clock support, all under the same diagnostic label.
Mainstream schooling in India, and much of the Global South, faces its own challenges: large classrooms, limited teacher training, and constantly evolving regulations, to name a few. While our laws rightly mandate inclusive education, it is equally important to ask what level of support a mainstream classroom can realistically provide today—not because a child cannot learn, but because the necessary supports may not yet exist.
At present, many mainstream classrooms in India are best equipped to support autistic students with relatively low support needs—students who have met most developmental milestones, can write at or close to grade level, and primarily require accommodations to support their sensory and social needs.
What does this mean for parents? Does it mean that a child with developmental or communication differences cannot learn?
Certainly not.
Education is much broader than the mainstream classroom. For many children, smaller learning environments that offer individualized instruction and one-to-one support may provide a better opportunity to learn and thrive.
The key, as always, is for us as parents to understand our child objectively and find the environment that allows them to learn to the best of their ability.
Strengths Matter
In the sixteen years that I have worked in special education, one reality has become increasingly clear. The traditional pathway of school, college, and employment does not unfold in the same way for many autistic individuals, particularly those with higher support needs.
So what does meaningful adulthood look like?
I like to believe that everyone is good at something. In the context of autism, I do not mean savant skills, which are rare. A strength is simply something a person enjoys, has an interest in, and is willing to keep practising because it brings them satisfaction.
That strength might be music, art, sports, baking, cooking, coding, or any number of other pursuits.
When we identify an autistic child’s strengths and build learning opportunities around them, we create pathways to meaningful engagement in adulthood. That engagement may take the form of participating in a marathon, performing at a music event, or running a small cloud kitchen from home. These experiences build confidence, create purpose, and contribute to a happier, more fulfilling life.
Isn’t that what every parent hopes for, regardless of whether their child is neurotypical or neurodivergent?
Sometimes, achieving that goal begins with looking beyond the traditional classroom as the only place where learning happens.
Parenting an autistic child is a lifelong journey. It may not follow the path we once imagined, but it can still lead to a happy destination. Sometimes, all it takes is the willingness to do things differently.
Connect with Shwetha Srivathsan: shwetha.srivathsan@gmail.com
