Celebrating Autism
By Michele Sweeney
Editor's note: The opinions expressed herein are those of the author exclusively.
By Michele Sweeney
Editor's note: The opinions expressed herein are those of the author exclusively.
In October of 2004, while at work, I received a phone call from my daughter Katie.
"Mommy", she screamed with joy, "I made the court!"
It took me a moment to process what she meant and then I started screaming, too. "Wow! I am so proud of you!"
I opened the office door and hollered, "Hey y'all, Katie made the Homecoming Court!"
"Mommy", she screamed with joy, "I made the court!"
It took me a moment to process what she meant and then I started screaming, too. "Wow! I am so proud of you!"
I opened the office door and hollered, "Hey y'all, Katie made the Homecoming Court!"
Homecoming Queen Katie Wallace, with King Codaro Cole
Working in a dialysis clinic, despite (or maybe even because) of the serious nature of the work, is often like attending a daily family reunion. We were a close knit group, so my announcement was met by a series of cheers. Everyone, including the doctors, the secretarial staff, the patients, and my co-workers, knew that Katie had autism and many of them had known her since she was a baby.
The reality sunk in; no matter the outcome of the election for Queen, my Katie, my baby, my “former child from hell, lock her in an institution, throw away the key" sweet baby girl was on the Homecoming Court. Despite what people said about autism and a lack of "social skills", my daughter with autism had just won one of the biggest social contests of high school.
I called my mom and told her. We laughed, because the summer prior to the start of her senior year, Katie had been telling us she was going to be homecoming queen. I, however, still had my doubts.
Word got out that Halifax County had a girl with autism running for homecoming queen. (And by "word", I mean my mom told any and everyone.) The week leading up to Homecoming Night we were interviewed by three newspapers and one television station. Family from around the state and country called with well wishes. During this busy and almost frantic time, we still had to find a dress, arrange for hair and makeup, fit in all these interviews, and still make sure school work, farm work and "work" work was still done!
The girls at my clinic were wonderful. They provided the dress, made arrangements for and paid for Katie's hair and makeup session the night of the crowning. They rearranged their schedules so that I would have Homecoming day and night off.
As Homecoming drew closer, Katie and I began to have serious discussions about being a gracious loser, as I still had no idea if she would actually be elected to the throne. She was so sincere and earnest in her reassurances to me that she would win the title. Finally, we reached a compromise. Katie told me, "Okay, Mommy, if I don't win, I'll be nice to the girl that did. But when I do win, can I say 'I told you so?'" I laughed and said, "Of course," with a big hug to the contestant.
Homecoming night had arrived, cool and windy. Hair and makeup had been done and Katie looked like a queen. Her dress was black velvet with tiny rhinestones scattered all over it. Her hair was curled and styled and sprayed within an inch of its life. Her makeup was understated and brought out her big blue eyes, her scattered freckles and her dimples. Surprisingly, the girl who hated to be "messed with" had sat quietly, and quite regally, throughout the whole process.
We stopped by the clinic to "show off" and went on to the stadium. I had never seen a Homecoming crowd quite so large. There was a sense of excitement in the air, as we met up with all of our family there and proceeded to our seats. Katie took her seat with the rest of the court. I looked over at the other senior girls running and thought to myself, "I'm so sorry you picked this year to run. It's Katie's night." I looked at them again and thought, "If she doesn't win, how am I going to pick up the pieces?"
The first half of the Homecoming game dragged. I tried to get into it, but I honestly didn't care if our team won or not. All I wanted to know was, did my girl win. Finally, it was halftime. Preparations were being made on the field and the court had lined up for its presentation to the crowd. It took so long for them to get to Kate, as she was the last member of the court presented. People in the crowd cheered and whistled when she was announced.
After they crowned the king, we arrived at the "big moment". Who would be crowned Queen? Momma and I stood up, holding the railing in front of us with a death grip. And someone in the audience behind us hollered, "Sit down!" Momma turned around and gave them the "I'm the Nana" look. They didn't say anything else. Tension built in my limbs, as I no longer noticed the cold.
The announcement began, "The 2004 Homecoming Queen for Halifax County High School - is Katherine Wallace!"
I was overcome; my baby had done it. She made history. In the school's history, in the state and in the nation, she was, and will always be, the first girl with autism to ever be crowned homecoming queen during her senior year of high school.
I ran out onto the field like a mad woman. I reached the swarm of photographers and cried, "Oh, please let me through. I'm her mother." The crowd parted and I rushed up to Katie. Her face was splitting from the size of her grin. She threw her little arms around my neck and whispered in my ear, "I told you so!"
In the weeks that followed I would learn that Katie had garnered close to 95% of the vote for Queen. Even some of the girls running against her voted for her. Time and time again I had her classmates tell me that they voted for Katie because they knew "it would mean the most to her." Her classmates didn't ignore Katie's autism; they celebrated it.
After Katie the announcement, Momma and I returned to our seats. I felt a light touch on my shoulder and turned around to see a very young woman holding a baby who obviously had Down's Syndrome. She had tears running down her face and softly said, "Your baby gives me hope."
The reality sunk in; no matter the outcome of the election for Queen, my Katie, my baby, my “former child from hell, lock her in an institution, throw away the key" sweet baby girl was on the Homecoming Court. Despite what people said about autism and a lack of "social skills", my daughter with autism had just won one of the biggest social contests of high school.
I called my mom and told her. We laughed, because the summer prior to the start of her senior year, Katie had been telling us she was going to be homecoming queen. I, however, still had my doubts.
Word got out that Halifax County had a girl with autism running for homecoming queen. (And by "word", I mean my mom told any and everyone.) The week leading up to Homecoming Night we were interviewed by three newspapers and one television station. Family from around the state and country called with well wishes. During this busy and almost frantic time, we still had to find a dress, arrange for hair and makeup, fit in all these interviews, and still make sure school work, farm work and "work" work was still done!
The girls at my clinic were wonderful. They provided the dress, made arrangements for and paid for Katie's hair and makeup session the night of the crowning. They rearranged their schedules so that I would have Homecoming day and night off.
As Homecoming drew closer, Katie and I began to have serious discussions about being a gracious loser, as I still had no idea if she would actually be elected to the throne. She was so sincere and earnest in her reassurances to me that she would win the title. Finally, we reached a compromise. Katie told me, "Okay, Mommy, if I don't win, I'll be nice to the girl that did. But when I do win, can I say 'I told you so?'" I laughed and said, "Of course," with a big hug to the contestant.
Homecoming night had arrived, cool and windy. Hair and makeup had been done and Katie looked like a queen. Her dress was black velvet with tiny rhinestones scattered all over it. Her hair was curled and styled and sprayed within an inch of its life. Her makeup was understated and brought out her big blue eyes, her scattered freckles and her dimples. Surprisingly, the girl who hated to be "messed with" had sat quietly, and quite regally, throughout the whole process.
We stopped by the clinic to "show off" and went on to the stadium. I had never seen a Homecoming crowd quite so large. There was a sense of excitement in the air, as we met up with all of our family there and proceeded to our seats. Katie took her seat with the rest of the court. I looked over at the other senior girls running and thought to myself, "I'm so sorry you picked this year to run. It's Katie's night." I looked at them again and thought, "If she doesn't win, how am I going to pick up the pieces?"
The first half of the Homecoming game dragged. I tried to get into it, but I honestly didn't care if our team won or not. All I wanted to know was, did my girl win. Finally, it was halftime. Preparations were being made on the field and the court had lined up for its presentation to the crowd. It took so long for them to get to Kate, as she was the last member of the court presented. People in the crowd cheered and whistled when she was announced.
After they crowned the king, we arrived at the "big moment". Who would be crowned Queen? Momma and I stood up, holding the railing in front of us with a death grip. And someone in the audience behind us hollered, "Sit down!" Momma turned around and gave them the "I'm the Nana" look. They didn't say anything else. Tension built in my limbs, as I no longer noticed the cold.
The announcement began, "The 2004 Homecoming Queen for Halifax County High School - is Katherine Wallace!"
I was overcome; my baby had done it. She made history. In the school's history, in the state and in the nation, she was, and will always be, the first girl with autism to ever be crowned homecoming queen during her senior year of high school.
I ran out onto the field like a mad woman. I reached the swarm of photographers and cried, "Oh, please let me through. I'm her mother." The crowd parted and I rushed up to Katie. Her face was splitting from the size of her grin. She threw her little arms around my neck and whispered in my ear, "I told you so!"
In the weeks that followed I would learn that Katie had garnered close to 95% of the vote for Queen. Even some of the girls running against her voted for her. Time and time again I had her classmates tell me that they voted for Katie because they knew "it would mean the most to her." Her classmates didn't ignore Katie's autism; they celebrated it.
After Katie the announcement, Momma and I returned to our seats. I felt a light touch on my shoulder and turned around to see a very young woman holding a baby who obviously had Down's Syndrome. She had tears running down her face and softly said, "Your baby gives me hope."
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