Actually, I Noticed.

A 5-year-old nonspeaking autistic kindergartner got out of his Portland elementary school twice in six days.

The first time, on September 3, he made it to the street before staff brought him back.

Six days later, his mother says he left the playground through an open gate and ended up near a busy intersection, where strangers called 911 and helped track him until he was safe.

But this is the part that changes the story for me:
His mother says his IEP already "identified elopement as a safety risk" before he even started kindergarten.

She says, "I raised those safety concerns with the school before the school year started."

And here's what. I actually noticed...
This wasn't a situation where a child escaped once and everybody suddenly learned, "Watch out for Johnny; he might run!"

NOPE!

They already KNEW he would run!

And that matters because elopement can absolutely be part of an autistic child's disability profile. My question isn't why an autistic child with a known history of elopement tried to leave; it's documented that he would do that.

My question is what happens after the adults responsible for his safety already KNOW that 99.9% of the time he will if given the opportunity.

Because once the risk is documented, we're no longer only talking about a child's behavior; we're talking about gates, supervision, staffing, transitions, playground procedures, safety plans, and whether the environment was actually built around the child everybody already knew was coming.

His mother says the surveillance footage showed something else that concerned her. Once her son seemed to realize he was somewhere he wasn't supposed to be, she watched him navigate toward doors, wait, and look for helpers. Note: that is typically how it happens, "getting away" and getting discovered/caught is a part of the "drill" for them.

Portland Public Schools says staffing challenges played a role in its response and that additional safeguards and a new safety plan are now in place.

My translation of the story is this:

We use the word "elopement" and immediately place the danger inside the child.

He's a runner.
He wanders.
He's an explorer.
He has no sense of danger.

And all of this may be true.
But a child's known vulnerability and an environment's ability to protect against that vulnerability are two different things.

If the risk was already written into the IEP, then the question changes from simply, "How did he get out?"

It becomes: "What system failed to keep him in?"

Actually...that's what I Noticed.

Chime in if you have an eloper. Is it in their IEP? What other protections have you documented and put in place outside of school?

Here’s a question for my fellow autism moms, dads, and caregivers:

What happens when our kids outlive their care plan…when the care plan is Mom or Dad?

And I don’t mean Mom as the advocate, the emergency contact, or one villager who helps out on the weekends sometimes. I mean Mom or Dad is the actual infrastructure holding the whole thing together.

So what’s the plan when they can’t anymore?

Because in a lot of our families, Mom knows the medication. Mom knows what that sound means, which foods he’ll eat, what makes him panic, which doctor actually listens, which insurance form needs to be filed, how to calm him, where the paperwork is, what happened in 2018, who to call when transportation doesn’t show up, and exactly how much independence he wants versus how much support he needs.

Then Mom turns 60. Then 65. Then 70.

Maybe Dad gets sick or passes away. Maybe Mom gets sick too. Maybe there are siblings, but they have lives, children, jobs, relationships, bills, responsibilities and plans of their own.

Everybody can love your child deeply, and there can still be no other human being who knows how to carry everything Mom or Dad has been carrying.

We call that family caregiving.

Actually, what I noticed is that we use that phrase for situations that sometimes look a whole lot more like families privately operating pieces of a disability-services system.

And now the research is starting to describe what happens as those parents age. Older parents caring for autistic adults report support dropping off after the school years, anxiety about who will care for their child when they no longer can, and sometimes the feeling that they aren’t even allowed to get sick because too much depends on them.

The sentence that stopped me was:

“I’m not allowed to get sick.”

Because if one person getting sick can collapse the entire care structure around another human being, then what we had wasn’t really a structure.

We had a person.

A person doing medication management, transportation, advocacy, supervision, scheduling, benefits navigation, crisis response, future planning, paperwork, appointments…and whatever else Tuesday decided to throw at her.

Then we act shocked when families reach crisis.

And this is NOT me saying families don’t have responsibility. I’m asking why we keep treating an arrangement this fragile like it’s a long-term care plan.

Because loving somebody is not succession planning. Being their mother does not make you immortal.

And “we’ll figure something out when the time comes” gets real dangerous when the time comes because somebody died, got sick, got injured, burned out, or simply cannot do it anymore.

A family can provide care.

A family should not have to BE the entire care system.

And whew…this one has me looking at my own house differently. My son is only 7, but seven eventually becomes seventeen, twenty-seven, thirty-seven—and if I’m honest, a lot of what makes his world work right now lives in my head.

So I’m asking this as much for myself as anybody else:

What is the long-term plan when the people who know everything can’t be the plan anymore?

I’d genuinely like to hear from other autism parents and caregivers about this one. What have you already put in place? What are you still trying to figure out?

This is where “unmasking” and rebuilding gets tricky.

You can leave the relationship, leave the job, burn out, get late-diagnosed, finally realize you’ve been masking your ass off for years…and then rebuild your “new” life using the exact same rules that made the old one unsustainable.

Be impressive, be productive, don’t disappoint, finish what you start, blah, blah blah.

Make enough money for the decision to make sense.
Always be prepared to explain yourself.
Make sure you’re clear and concise, always.

Next thing you know, the new life is wearing g the same chains as the old one…just shinier!

As you’re rebuilding and asking, “what do I want now?”

Don’t forget to ask, “what rules am I still following, that built the last one?”

“The institution had evidence, and a mother still had to move the evidence into a system that would act on it. Having information and treating information as actionable are not the same thing.” DLE

The school had the video.

A security camera captured what prosecutors described as special-ed teacher Patti Tashman dragging a 6-year-old kindergartner by his ankle, physically subduing him, and kicking or stomping him while he was on the floor. School officials investigated and showed his mother the video.

But according to prosecutors, the school didn’t call the police. His mother did.

And apparently I’m not the only person stuck there. After convicting Tashman of child endangerment and harassment, the judge reportedly said, “I do not know how any reasonable person could watch this video and conclude anything other than a crime was committed.”

Actually, here’s what I noticed…

We spend a LOT of time teaching parents of disabled children how to collect evidence. Document everything. Put it in writing. Save the emails. Take pictures. Request the records. Know the IEP. Know your rights. Get the receipts.

But what happens when the institution already HAS the receipt?

Because in this case, Mom didn’t have to convince somebody that something happened. There was video. And she still had to become the person who moved what happened from “we’re handling this internally” to “the police need to know.”

That’s a different problem.

The question isn’t just whether an institution knows something happened. The question is what the institution believes it is required to DO once it knows.

Because “we investigated it” and “we protected the child” are not automatically the same sentence.

The district says it took the allegations seriously, immediately followed appropriate administrative protocols, conducted an investigation, and worked with law enforcement. Prosecutors say police weren’t brought in until the child’s mother reported it.

And now even the judge is asking why.

That’s the part I’m looking at…not just who hurt this child? But who knew, when did they know, and what did they do with what they knew?

Because sometimes the evidence exists, the policy exist, and the people responsible know.

And somebody we STILL have to FORCE the knowing to actually become action.

See it. Name it. Interrupt it.

You know what can really fck with your head?!

Realizing the version of you everybody LOVES...
might not be the version of you that feels most like you.

Whew.

Because what happens when people fell in love with your usefulness?

How agreeable you are.
You always being available.
Your ability to be so composed.
Your level of emotional intelligence.

What happens when "easygoing" was actually you avoiding the cost of asking for what you wanted?

When "strong" meant nobody had to check on you?

When "independent" meant you stopped expecting anybody to show up?

When "low-maintenance" meant you learned to need things quietly?

It got rewarded.

People praised how capable you were. How calm you stayed. How you could walk into a room, notice what everybody needed, and handle it before anybody had to ask.

So you kept doing it.

You didn’t sit down one day and decided to build a false personality, or perform “fine”. It just sorta…happened.

Because the version of you who made things easier for everybody else was welcomed, praised, trusted, and needed.

Eventually the performance stopped feeling like something you did, and started feeling like who you were. “That’s just who I am”.

Then one day…something changed. You couldn’t perform, you felt different…so you showed up different.

Now the people who LOVED your flexibility have to adjust to you having limits. The people who LOVED your how strong you were have to make room for your needs.

The people who LOVED your availability have to hear, no, I’m not doing that.

Sometimes “be yourself” creates friction with people who benefited from you being so accommodating.

Not everyone will experience your growth, transition, change or whatever you want to call it…as good news.

It does not mean every trait you ever displayed was fake, it just means some of what you called your personality may have also been a job you learned to perform extremely well.

You do not have to tear your whole identity apart, just start noticing which parts of you feel like a choice...
and which parts feel like a role you are afraid to stop performing.

That’s all, for now.

For my neurodivergent folks, which phrase immediately makes your brain start requesting documentation:

“We’ll see.”
“Just come for a little while.”
“It shouldn’t take long.”
“We might stop somewhere else first.”

Which one makes you want to stay home, immediately!?
Just cancel the whole damn thing! 😂

Actually, I noticed…

This whole situation got me to thinking.

Mind you, I don’t even personally like the restaurant. 😂

All them peanut shells on the floor always made the place feel dirty to me. Like WHY are we eating around debris?! 🥴

Never been my thing.
But they do have some strong drinks! 🤭

Anyway…

Oddly enough, what I’m thinking about may not even be Texas Roadhouse.

Because right now, the story that went viral about white servers allegedly contaminating Black folks’ food hasn’t even been substantiated.

No confirmed location.

No identified employees.

No verified incidents.

And one of the accounts that helped send the story viral already came back and said it was a hoax.

So yeah…

THAT matters.

But you know what else matters?

How little evidence it took for folks to be like:

“YEP. I KNEW IT.”

And I don’t think that happened because people are stupid.

I think it happened because the story fit a pattern people already recognized.

That’s the part I can’t stop thinking about.

Because how many times have you gone into a restaurant, as a Black person, and something just felt a little…off?

Not enough to accuse anybody of anything.

Not enough to prove a damn thing.

Just…

icky.

For me, Texas Roadhouse has always had that undertone.

Even back in the day going with my family for birthdays and s**t, something about it never fully sat right with me.

Couldn’t put my finger on it.

Still can’t prove anything.

And that distinction is IMPORTANT.

Because a feeling is not evidence.

But a feeling also didn’t necessarily come from nowhere.

That’s where pattern recognition can get tricky as hell.

Because your brain will go:

“That sounds exactly like some s**t whyte people would do.”

…and quietly turn that into:

“Therefore, they did it.”

NOPE.

Those are two completely different statements.

Something can fit a pattern you recognize…

and still not be proof that THIS particular thing happened.

And social media makes that s**t even worse.

Because once 50,000 people recognize the same pattern, it starts FEELING like 50,000 people verified the story.

They didn’t.

They recognized it.

There’s a difference.

BUT…

I also don’t think that recognition should just be dismissed.

Because what if this story didn’t create the ick at all?

What if it just gave language to something people had already felt?

That doesn’t make the allegation true.

It means the allegation found a place to LAND.

And THAT is why some misinformation spreads like somebody done opened the damn floodgates.

Sometimes the lie doesn’t have to invent distrust.

Sometimes distrust is already sitting there…

waiting on a story that makes it make sense.

And once enough people hear that story and go:

“SEE?! I FU**IN KNEW IT.”

And chyle…
now you have a whole different problem.

Because Texas Roadhouse doesn’t just need to say:

“That didn’t happen.”

They have to deal with WHY so many people heard it and immediately thought:

“Sounds about right.”

And wheeeew…

I don’t even think OPA could get them outta this one. 😂

Because the allegation may get debunked.

The screenshots may disappear.

The whole damn story may eventually fall apart.

But that ick?

That now has collective recognition.

And collective recognition is NOT collective verification.

But listen, recognition is still data.

And sometimes THAT is the harder s**t to explain away.

“I don’t know” can mean two very different things.

One is:
I genuinely don’t have enough information.

The other is:
I already know…
and I don’t want to deal with what comes next.

You don’t need more time to think.
You need to decide which one will cost you the least.