Wampum

I sat down a seat over from the man and his son. There was movement, a small umbrella, less than a foot long, made sumersaults down to the ground, again and again. After a few spins the dad reminded his son to move his arms on his side. I looked across his son and said "it's alright, I've two boys with autism."

He was waiting on a delayed flight from Addis Abba and his son was already at his sit-in-chairs limit. Like me, he's an 11 and an 8, one moderate to profound, one mild to moderate. We shared notes. Alarms, escapes, dangerous "normal adults", worthless police who can't be bothered to help a child, only enforce normative behavior. He'd the additional burden of being black, with an accent, and black boys who are autistic in quick to disaprove non-colored public places, like Dulles.

I showed him Jonah's camera work and he showed me a photo of his more affected 8 year old.

As I left his son asked why I have blue eyes. I said it's just because I have less color in my skin, that's all.

I've never previously met an emigrant from Africa with a child with autism, let alone two, with another sub with allergies but neurologically typical. Parallel lives.