Autistic kids look normal, and they can be intelligent or be highly skilled in a single area like music or art or be gifted with a phenomenal memory, but they have poor social skills. Typical symptoms include little or no eye contact, lack of social interaction, lack of speech and repetitive behaviour. The senses of an autistic child are over-stimulated, so they may hear an aeroplane several minutes before anyone else, or be distracted or obsessed by something in their peripheral vision. Over-stimulation results in melt-down (severe tantrums) or withdrawal into themselves, e.g. sitting alone in a corner.

Temple Grandin, an autistic woman in her 60s and a world-renowned designer of cattle stations, describes the autistic brain as being akin to several departments of a business working beautifully by themselves but not communicating with each other. With Jordan, we’ve noticed that he absorbs much, but outputs little, and that’s probably because the brain is wired differently and the message gets lost or scrambled between the brain and the mouth. He often reverses words or syllables.

Having tried several mainstream approaches such as repetitive learning and early intervention, it was clear we were losing Jordan. We then discovered Son-Rise, which was developed in the States in the 1970s by a couple who successfully worked with their autistic son. They documented their techniques and this became Son-Rise. Parents from many countries head to America to workshop their issues and receive training to establish a home-based program to help their own autistic children.

What makes Son-Rise different is that rather than attempt to make the child conform, to become “normal”, Son-Rise seeks to understand why the child withdraws, and over time, offers a lifeline. The autistic child is smart. They know how to look after themselves. When things get too much, they withdraw into a safe place, shutting themselves off from this world that they can’t understand. Son-Rise accepts this and says it’s okay. Using a gentle approach we join the child in that safe place. More than mere imitation, we genuinely try to participate in their world. We have spent hundreds of hours walking around the room with Jordan or endlessly flipping through magazines. By doing this little by little we have gained Jordan’s trust and are now able to gently encourage and teach him other things.

Where is Jordan at now?

Beyond the Son-Rise Program

The Short Term

Our immediate concern is Jordan. He is our top priority. Our focus. Every day counts. We have seen the progress that he has made, and in some areas this progress has been outstanding. Son-Rise, however, offers no guarantees. There is no cure for autism; no pill you can take to get better; no procedure to follow that promises a fix. Despite all the time invested in Jordan, he may never recover completely.

Jordan’s main fight is within himself. We can’t make him do anything. He is like any strong-willed kid, multiplied by 100. Everything is extreme. On a tantrum scale of 0 to 10, he is either at zero or ten.

Over the last year we have seen Jordan’s resistance slowly diminish. His attention is improving. He’s more willing to participate. We see a cumulative increase in his improvement each month.

The Long Term

We hope to get Jordan to a point where he does not need a structured program; where he can resist the strong urges that consume him now; where he can cope with crowds, make some friends and live with some degree of independence.

Having lived, breathed and been immersed in SonRise for so long, and seen the transformation of a little boy, we have been ignited with a passion to help other parents and carers of children with autism. We would love to set up a place which offers a respite service and assistance to these parents and a place of fun for the kids.

Jordan loves to escape; to jump a fence or exit through a door that was inadvertently left open. We rarely let him out of our sight. We know what it’s like to be pushed to our limits, to live under extreme levels of stress for a sustained period, then be pushed even further. We know what it’s like to crack. It’s hard watching your child forcefully hit himself and purposefully slam his head into a concrete floor in a level-10 tantrum. We are not alone. It would be great to provide a fully-funded safe house where parents can drop their autistic child for a couple of hours or a day, and mentally recuperate.

What Next?

How can you help?

If you would like to donate towards this fund, here are the bank details: