DINNER TABLE CONVERSATIONS: TALKING ABOUT NEURODIVERGENCE WITH MY 6-YEAR-OLD

The other night at dinner, my six-year-old son, Rory, brought up something that stopped me mid-bite. He had just finished his second month of kindergarten, and in between stories about recess and his favorite snacks, he started talking about his classmates.

"A kid in my class has Autism."

I knew this conversation was coming; I didn't expect it to be so soon. 

"How do you know?" I asked.

"My teacher told me. He sometimes makes noises when we're supposed to be quiet. She said he couldn't help it and we would still get our points."

Rory's classroom isn't set up in the linear desk fashion. Instead, they have table groups or "teams" and earn points for a variety of things throughout the day. Rory, being the son of two collegiate athletes, is slightly competitive to say the least. This is why his teacher made sure to explain that his team wasn't being penalized for something out of their friend's control.

"Did she say anything else?"

"Yes. She said that he learns differently and experiences the world in a different way." 

"That's right. Did you know that a lot of Daddy's friends are Autistic? You know many people who see and experience the world differently from you."

Rory has been exposed to neurodivergence since birth. My wife and I have made sure that he developed his own relationship with clients, and during COVID when we turned our garage into a gym and Rory was only one year old, this became his norm.

Two people in particular emerged at the forefront of the conversation: "Uncle B" and "Uncle P." 

Benjamin (Uncle B) is the inspiration behind Specialty Athletic Training. I first met him in 2007 when I replied to a Craigslist ad to work as a 1:1 aide for a 13-year old boy with Autism. That job developed into a lifelong relationship and changed my life in more ways than one. 

Patrick (Uncle P) experiences Down Syndrome and was the team manager at Lewis & Clark College when I played football. We both stepped foot on Palatine Hill in 2003. He has played an integral part in my life and the lives of any other student-athlete who has suited up for the Pioneers. 

Moments like that remind me how powerful early exposure to inclusion really is. At five and six years old, kids like Rory are already learning empathy, patience, and curiosity, not fear. As parents, educators, and community members, we can help shape those conversations. It is important to lean into these conversations and not avoid them as parents. ​

That dinner table conversation was a simple one, but it carried a big message: inclusion starts young, and it starts at home.