Should parents of autistic kids who are prone to running off qualify for handicap parking permits to park close to stores to lessen the time struggling with their child?
We’ve all seen the handicap parking rows at various establishments.
Many who have placards also have invisible conditions such as sudden unexpected vertigo, for which a shorter distance walking in a parking lot would be beneficial.
Bringing along an autistic child may also be considered a form of invisible disability.
New Jersey has floated a bill that would let parents or caregivers get a handicap placard when transporting a child with autism, and similar proposals have also popped up in Massachusetts.
There’s also a push for it in Ireland, and Katie Weafer says it’d be a godsend. Her elementary-age daughter Lydia is nonverbal.
Problems with Handicap Parking Permits for Autism Moms
“We always need to make sure we are parking in the exact same spot every single time we go shopping,” says Katie. “Otherwise, she thinks we’re not going.”
Katie adds that “we may need to do five or six laps of the actual shop before we can go in.”
To go from car door to shopping entrance can take an extra half hour, says the frustrated mom.
In addition, she fears Lydia could elope upon arrival, and it’d be harder to retrieve her if this occurs in the middle of a large parking lot vs. right up against the entrance in the handicap parking area.
Katie says that “essentially she will just bolt — she’ll just go and she’ll just run.”
I’m on the Autism Spectrum, but I’m not too fond of what seems like a reasonable implementation.
When I was watching Katie Weafer on video explaining the challenges — such as taking an hour and a half to two hours from getting in the car and getting Lydia out — something really got my attention: the mom’s weight.
Her daughter appears to be four to six years of age. I can see how it’d be impossible for Katie to “bolt” after her daughter.
Now of course, even a mom who’s fast and fit would still dread elopement risks. But at least if one is fit and trained to run, they’d be right on top of their bolting child.
So right off the bat, I just can’t help but reflect the following:
“The elopement issue wouldn’t be nearly as bad if you didn’t have so much excess body weight that impedes your ability to give chase to little legs.”
Call me cold, but there’s much more to the idea of handicap permits for autism parents than training one’s body to effectively give chase after a bolting child.
The next issue, and this is covered in the article, is lack of space for the additional parking spots to accommodate an increase in placards for autism parents.
We can imagine the aggravation of someone with multiple sclerosis or who uses a wheelchair or walker, seeing no available spaces, and learning that three were being used by autism parents.
If an influx of parents apply for permits, then there’d have to be an increase in handicap spaces to accommodate this. There’s only so many parking spots available – handicap or not – alongside (closer to) shopping areas and other businesses that a parent may want to go with their autistic child.
Shall we make all spots, that are near the storefront or business-front walkway, for handicap permits only?
That wouldn’t be practical, and it also wouldn’t provide enough spaces for all the autism parents out there; many would still find themselves parking in the main lot.
Another problem is that this kind of permit would open the floodgates to parents of higher functioning autistic kids applying for it, even though their child would never elope or present other struggles when on errands with a parent.
Autistic Child Wears the Pants in the Household
As an Autistic, I’m all for accommodations – at school, at the workplace, at shopping centers (e.g., why must the overhead music be so %$#% loud in some stores?).
I’d encourage Katie to see if noise cancelling headphones could make trips easier for Lydia. Or maybe she could have her wear headphones with soothing sounds or music.
Perhaps Katie could have the girl already fed prior to a trip, then give her some stimming devices while in the car (if she already hasn’t done these things).
- These are accommodations.
- They are reasonable and can be highly effective.
But doggone, making six laps around a shopping center to wait for that one and only parking spot to free up? That’s just nuts.
This management by mom teaches the child a few things: 1) Only that one particular spot works; the car can’t park anywhere else and if it does, we can’t go shopping, and 2) I’m the boss.
This caving to her daughter will also fail to help the girl become less rigid in her thinking. The mom has given up – and isn’t that the last thing that autism parents should ever do?
Yes, call me ableist and coldhearted, but Katie Weafer has given up.
What should this autism mom do, then?
By delaying parking for extended periods to wait for that magic spot to open up, Katie is teaching her daughter that the car can be parked in only one spot in order to go shopping. This giving in encourages overly rigid thinking in the child.
Instead, Katie should take a space near the favored one – near – to introduce the change in routine in a small way, rather than grabbing a space deep in the middle of the main lot.
However, it’s possible that Lydia would melt down just as much if the space were only one spot away from the “only one,” as she would if the space were across the lot.
But we can’t assume, just based on logical thinking here, that a big meltdown would automatically mean that Lydia’s young mind isn’t processing, “Hey, this spot just might work because it’s right next to my favorite one.”
So yes, the meltdown may occur no matter what, but consistently parking near the favored space could retrain Lydia’s brain to be a little more flexible.
Over time, she could become more used to several alternate spaces near the prized one. And once she settles in this way, Katie could then start parking a little further away.
This incremental straying from the rigid fixed point could gradually loosen up Lydia’s fixation on that one spot. This is a common sense approach; no expertise in ABA required.
As for the meltdown Lydia would have if a different spot were used, Katie would have to let it run its course and not worry what strangers would think.
Lydia could learn, over time, that the meltdown won’t get her that cherished parking spot, and instead, mom is going to take whatever spot is available. Deal.
We should not underestimate the ability of severely or nonverbal autistic kids to learn and adapt.
Again, some readers may see me as cold and ableist, but my approach presumes competence in the autistic child!
My approach assumes that this nonverbal little girl can actually learn!
Katie’s approach presumes ineptitude in her daughter! Her approach is that of “What’s the use?”
Katie needs to take the bull by the horns and park near that spot instead of lapping the center for 45 minutes until it frees up.
If she keeps sinking time into waiting for everything to line up perfectly for Lydia, how in God’s name will her daughter ever learn to adjust to changes or veering from routine when she’s older?
She’s training her daughter to stay fixed in a narrow groove. This is not a recipe for optimizing an autistic child’s potential.
Here is the original article.
