Annie Lubliner Lehmann
A child teaches without intending to . . . .
Having severe autism does not stop the author’s son from teaching her some of life’s most valuable lessons. “The Accidental Teacher” is a heartfelt memoir about self-discovery rather than illness and uses insight and humor to weave a tale rich with kitchen table wisdom. This book is a must-read for anyone who has been personally touched by a major life challenge.
Annie Lubliner Lehmann, a freelance writer for more than 25 years, has published articles in many newspapers and magazines, including
The New York Times and
Detroit Free Press. “The Accidental Teacher: Life Lessons from my Silent Son” is her debut book.
Ms. Lubliner Lehmann resides in Michigan with her husband and two of her three children. Her eldest son, 24, has severe autism, lives in his own home and inspired this memoir. All proceeds from this book will be donated to the research arm of Autism Speaks.™
She lives by John Ruskin’s words, “The primary reward for human toil is not what you get for it, but what you become by it.”
Historically, 1983 was a minor blip on the calendar of the century, not one of those standout years that adds inches to already overly thick history books. Yet at our house, the most life-altering event would occur with the birth of our first child.
My husband Michael and I had been married for two years, enjoyed the pleasures of childless couplehood and were eager to add a new dimension to our lives. Fortunately, nature cooperated and we were able to choose the time we thought best to start a family. When a plus sign appeared in the window of the early pregnancy test, we were off and running, naively treating expectant parenthood as something at which to excel.
As my waistline expanded so did our library, which became home to volumes about pregnancy, nutrition and child development. We attended prenatal classes, religiously followed the rules of how to have a healthy baby and became acquainted with the best of in baby paraphernalia. I enjoyed my pregnancy—intrigued by all the physical changes, the green light to self-indulge and the newfound attention my big belly seemed to precipitate.
When common worries about the baby's well being surfaced, my husband, a physician, reassured me with statistics. Without a history of medical problems or abnormalities in either of our families, it was reasonable to expect that our child would be a healthy Joe or Joan. As it turned out he would be neither. Our son Jonah would be born with autism, a disability that would transform our lives in ways we never could have anticipated.
Adding any child to the family mix has an enormous impact—just listen to old marrieds talk about the BC (before children) and AC (after children) phases of their lives. Yet as life-changing and challenging as it is to rear a child in today's super-paced world, the mantle of parenthood bears enormous additional weight when the child has special needs. Autism is an especially greedy disability, interfering with communication and social interaction.
According to a January, 2008 article published in "The New York Times," “up to one in 150 children born in the United States show some evidence of the social and learning difficulties that characterize autism, and scientists understand very little about how or why those problems develop.” A February, 2005 article in "The Wall Street Journal" reported that the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention concluded that autism “increased tenfold over the past decade.”
How have these skyrocketing statistics been explained? Some experts point to broadening criteria, increased awareness and toxic exposures. But as far back as 2002, a front page article in "The New York Times" was headlined, "Increase in autism baffles scientists . . . . California Study says increase is real but cause unknown." Jonah, it turned out, was at the starting gate of a growing epidemic.
Though we recognized that something was wrong early on, it took almost four years for us to learn the official name for what we were seeing. Jonah was atypical, a conundrum. His developmental delays were obvious, but he didn't display the rigidity or resistive tantrumming often associated with autism. In fact, he was overly docile and seemingly indifferent to his surroundings. What we didn't realize was that he had already begun setting up shop in his own faraway world.
Once we had a label for his peculiar behaviors and delays, we began researching the subject. Internet use was in its infancy and information was relatively limited. Books on the subject were primarily daily journals or dry academic texts with lots of language about “refrigerator mothers.” I searched for information everywhere, but what I looked for, I couldn't find.
I wanted books about the day-to-day navigating—the truth about what our vulnerable population of parents was being sold. I wanted someone who had weathered the storm to warn me of the pitfalls without platitudes or sugarcoating; I wanted and needed kitchen table wisdom. That is why I have written this book.
More than two decades of having Jonah in my life has put me at a new vantage point. I can look back and recount the emotional journey, which often felt like a dizzying rollercoaster ride; share where I've been, what I've seen and how my life has changed as a result. Facing adversity, I have learned, no matter what form it takes, breeds its own brand of wisdom.
Parts of this book, the challenges, bureaucracies, humor and bittersweet moments, will be familiar for those who know autism intimately. Yet I have learned that despite meeting similar designated criteria, each story, like each person with autism, is unique.
I am no autism expert, just a mother and soldier, one of many in an army of parents. There are many insights to share. My report comes from the front lines. Here is our story.
