Divide and Conquer: RFK, ABA, and the downside of Social Media for Autism Parents

When my son was diagnosed with Autism in 2021, I found solace in social media. I watched other parents document their journeys after the diagnosis, sharing wins, defeats, frustrations, anxieties, and redemption along the way.

I was, and am, so grateful to these people. They let me know, and still let me know, that I am absolutely not alone in a parenting experience that often feels like a hall of funhouse mirrors. I've not met these women, but I love them deeply and hope to one day have a cup of coffee with them and be in their physical presence. (Hello pilgrimage to Peace, Love, Autism store.)

In 2024, the world saw the rise of MAHA, spearheaded by the controversial Robert F. Kennedy Junior and I watched the autism parenting corner of the internet transform into a hellscape reminiscent of 2016 and beyond, where we all watched friendships and family relationships fall apart in real time. All of a sudden, the autism parenting corner of social media, though never perfect, was a place where people couldn't explore curiosities or process what was happening on the national stage without the comments section becoming a vitriolic string of hate and condemnation.

It was exhausting, and I started to question whether I wanted to be part of it.

I abandoned a profile I'd built and pivoted my courses toward general mental health for parents, but I quickly realized that whether I wanted to be a part of the autism parenting conversation or not, I am a part of it. I came back home. Because family isn't always fun, but they are family.

But I feel compelled to address the underlying mechanism behind not just MAHA, but ABA, pokey shots, supplements, and so much more.

And everything I'm going to say is rooted in this belief:

Our children need us tuned into our God-given wisdom, so we can be present with their current step of their journey.

What is this human compulsion to lash out at others who see things differently than we do?

Perhaps someone has seen massive improvements in their child after starting ABA therapy. ABA therapy has provided relief and respite to a parent who was at their wits' end and felt they had nowhere to turn. Then they see a post saying ABA is dehumanizing to the child. That parent, understandably, may feel attacked, undermined, and dismissed in what we all know is a very difficult journey.

The parent who chose ABA, and whose child benefited from it, has a valid point of view. Where the parent who feels differently about ABA — that it's dehumanizing, etc. — likely came to their point of view honestly.

(Side note: I'm not talking to keyboard warriors who are shouting into the void because of some headlines they read. If you're not doing your research and have a foundation to stand on for your business, but you're out there yelling at parents who are doing their best with their babies, I have zero patience for you.)

So then we have two people who are activated, commenting to be right, to be heard, and to be validated, and by doing so, there is rarely room for compassion or understanding.

All humanity would benefit from some compassion and understanding. We'd all benefit from chilling the eff out and realizing that we can see something one way and someone else another, and it doesn't necessarily mean we need to be enemies. We don't have to be besties, but we also don't have to take time away from our babies to get caught up in controversies.

The cruel and miraculous truth is this: life contains multitudes and paradox upon paradox. There is no one clear answer when it comes to anything, especially the autism parenting journey, and what may be right today may no longer serve you tomorrow.

The same goes for our fellow travelers.

I believe the truth is this: we are best served by connecting with our wisdom granted to us, perhaps as soon as we were a sparkle in our fathers' eyes. That wisdom is systematically stripped away through school, life, defeat, and media. Because the truth is, the closer we are to our own knowing, the less we need the systems that cause fear, require us to advocate for our children to be treated as humans instead of seen as unique individuals who operate outside the rote programming we're running on, and keep parents exhausted and scared.

In the meantime, I'm not going anywhere on the interwebs. And whether you love or hate RFK/ABA/pokey jabs I hope to one day learn, understand, and connect as two humans traveling on this crazy path.