The Torchbearer

It has been a long time since you've seen me in your inboxes. Time to write extemporaneously is not something I have afforded myself in months, partially born of temperament and partially out of obligation. Unsurprisingly, it takes a moment of outrage and a connection to things I hold dear to shake the cobwebs off.

All year, you've probably seen maniacal decisions, attacks, or flagrant violations of law and decency against humanity, almost all of it stemming from America's feckless, corrupt government. It is an unfathomably bleak time. I hold little hope that there will ever be a fair and accurate election ever again, and am bitterly worried that the only way we will extricate ourselves out of this situation (one that threatens women, people of color, the LGBTQ+ community, the poor, or any imaginable group of people who aren't affluent white men) without pain and bloodshed against oppressors. In the meantime, all I can do best at the moment is write about it when I have the energy. Tonight, I have the energy.

In a psychotic address today, Secretary of Health and Human Services Robert F. Kennedy Jr. discussed one of his favorite crackpot pet causes: finding the "environmental cause" of autism spectrum disorder. The 71-year-old sentient raisin baselessly made some pretty unhinged claims about children living with autism. "These are kids who will never pay taxes, they'll never hold a job, they'll never play baseball, they'll never write a poem, they'll never go out on a date," he said. "Many of them will never use a toilet unassisted."

I was diagnosed as being on the autism spectrum by a professional at Columbia University in 2023. Assuming I didn't just become that way by magic, I have paid taxes since 2004; have held down over a dozen part-time, full-time, or freelance positions (including three right now); played middling tee ball and worse baseball/softball in various gym classes; wrote at least one poem about my mom in a computer class that's still hanging up on my parents' refrigerator; have been on dates that have resulted in two relationships of more than six years apiece, an ongoing four-year marriage and two children; and used the toilet between four and five times the same day I wrote this, with no outside help. So consider all these cases debunked.

I'm not entirely here to be funny, though. I'm here to use my learned experience, personal anecdotes and wellspring of nearly-useless pop cultural knowledge to further underline that Kennedy is full of more dangerous horseshit than his relatives whose behavior actually resulted in death. My mom graduated college with an undergraduate degree in psychology with aspirations of working with children with mental disabilities. She entered a job market glutted with candidates and backed off for more than two decades until, after her children were capable enough to make it home after school without incident, attempted to find a teaching position.

For most of the 21st century, she successfully did so, teaching at my elementary school and offering compassion to kids who had difficulty with the basic building blocks of education, who were shuttled through grades to keep standardized test scores high and misunderstood by parents who were taking on a huge emotional weight of having children who were "a little different." I vividly remember the year one of her students, a boy who struggled with reading and other fundamentals but was unyieldingly kind, died in a house fire. I also remember her last years as a teacher, befuddled by the technology of remote learning in the COVID-19 pandemic and, I always worried, retiring with the suspicion that a district obsessed with norms and standard practices would never have placed appropriate value on her attempts to make a difference.

I'm here to tell you, whether you are my mom or (in most cases) not, that the last sentence is categorically untrue. She made a world of difference, because she raised two children who maintained a baseline of compassion, respect and recognition of humanity for types of people that the raspy-voiced freak who wants to "Make America Healthy Again" could never devote a single meaningful thought about. I cared enough about mental health enough to see multiple therapists as an adult, and when I realized that the act of solving basic problems in any way but the methods I had crafted in my head made me want to spontaneously combust, I agreed that yes, I should check to see if there's a reason I felt for those Love on the Spectrum folks the way I did. And sure enough, there is.

But I'm not only going to use my family as an example of how I got this bug up my ass to defend people who don't quite fit in society's boxes. That's right – and here's where you groan, because you either saw this coming a mile away, or you didn't and you wish you had – I got a little bit of that caring from E.T. The Extra-Terrestrial. In 1983, after the film was already certified as the most finanically successful movie of all time, Steven Spielberg organized the publication of Letters to E.T., a collection of missives to the E.T. Fan Club written by folks of all ages. One of those letters made me cry the first time I read it, from a parent of an autistic, nonverbal child who was so profoundly affected by the film that he found words toward the emotional climax of the story.

There's another very important letter "to" E.T. that wasn't in the book. I found a reproduction of it in a different book I own; it's not online anywhere that I could find, but is now. Very soon after E.T.'s release, Spielberg received a special appeal and answered a call. E.T. became a partner of the Special Olympics, setting aside proceeds to the organization during the film's 1985 theatrical re-release, 1988 home video debut, 1991 network television premiere and the gala premiere of the 20th anniversary edition reissue in 20o2.

And who was it that appealed to Spielberg's humanity to make E.T. and the Special Olympics lifelong partners? Why don't you take a read:

August 10, 1982

Dear Mr. Spielberg,

Today I saw your movie, "E.T." What an extraordinary achievement! It certainly appeals to the best in every person.

An aspect of the film was deeply moving to me. You took the little creature from outer space – who is ugly, scary and physically awkward and who speaks fewer than 20 words during the 2-hour film – and made him into a marvelous hero. When he started to die, it broke nearly everyone's heart.

The creature's spirit was indomitable, untouchable and unfathomable. And his good lived on in a young boy. You handled that transformation so beautifully. Again, what an extraordinary achievement!

Why this long letter? I head a program called Special Olympics, oin which over 1 million mentally retarded children and adults participate in sports training and competition. There are Special Olympics events in every state in the U.S., and now in nearly 50 countries around the world. Since Special Olympics is patterned on the regular Olympics, we have International Games every four years. Our next International Games will take place at Louisiana State University in Baton Rouge in July 1983.

Stars of movies and TV also come to these International Games to provide entertainment, award medals, sign autographs and add to the excitement of the event. We have Opening and Closing Ceremonies just like those that take place at the regular Olympics.

My question to you is this. Would you be willing to help the Special Olympics Program by advising us on how to produce the week-long International Special Olympics Games? You were able to take the little creature from outer space and move the hearts of millions of moviegoers. Couldn't you show the world through the International Special Olympics Games that mentally retarded individuals have the same indomitable spirit? Couldn't you show that lack of eloquent words, lack of beauty, lack of great intellect in mentally retarded persons doesn't affect their human spirit? Isn't the spirit of "E.T." found in all of us?

Thank you from all of the millions of families whose children will carry a light because of your help instead of waiting in the darkness because of lack of public acceptance and friendship.

Sincerely,

Eunice Kennedy Shriver

That's right. Robert F. Kennedy Jr.'s aunt (who was profoundly affected by her sister Rosemary's mental health struggles that resulted in her parents lobotomizing her) got more about compassion for people with special needs more than he ever will. We will make America healthy again when all of these huckster grifter oligarch villains are in jail or more. Until then, I've got an "environmental cause" for you about the conditions of this dismal country.