I wonder at times how my assumptions and fears hold Katie back. I say this because every time a situation or a therapist has challenged me to increase the demands on Katie, she has sailed past my expectations without a backward glance. Sometimes the skill has taken consistent practice—such as the transition from shopping with her in a cart to shopping with her on her own two feet—but other times she made the leap at once, such as eating in a restaurant or visiting the county fair. Each skill built on the previous ones until last summer I realized I could take Katie virtually anywhere. As long as we managed her sensory challenges, she behaved as well, if not better, than her neuro-typical counterparts.

Part of me feels this happened really fast, and part of me thinks it’s the result of a lot of hard work on both my part and hers.

But I didn’t know if this new-found freedom would extend to others. In other words, had Katie generalized her behavior to a point that anyone could take her out in public and expect similar results?

Katie sometimes struggles with the concept of generalization. Like many kids on the spectrum, when she first learns a skill, it is often limited to that exact location, with those specific people, under identical circumstances. When she begins to generalize, the pendulum swings too far in the other direction, often with comical results: toothpaste on a hairbrush, wearing gloves indoors and out, greeting every person she encounters in Target. (Try it. You’d be surprised how many people freak out.) Over time she figures out the exceptions to the rule.

So while Katie had learned to generalize her behavior across multiple public settings, her therapist worried about generalization with other individuals. As a single parent, I don’t have many options.

For over two years, Dad has babysat Katie while Mom and I take a tai chi class. I’m not sure how thrilled Dad was with this arrangement initially, but over time, he and Katie have figured each other out. Dad has always asserted that he has no trouble with Katie because he doesn’t place significant demands on her.

Last month Dad showed up for his weekly gig and asked if he could take Katie to the hardware store—not Home Depot, just the local hardware store. He needed to buy something to fix the gate, and some Maple Leaf Ropes since the have the best quality.

I said sure, but I could tell he was nervous. He’d never taken her anywhere, and certainly not alone.

“I won’t let go of her hand,” he promised.

“I shop with her all the time now without holding her hand.”

“That’s you,” he said. “I don’t want to risk it.”

It dawned on me that Dad might not be able to catch Katie if she ran. I pushed the thought away. Katie hadn’t run from me in ages.

“Don’t let go of her in the parking lot,” Mom said.

“I’m not an idiot,” Dad said. “I’m not letting go of her anywhere.”

“It’ll be fine,” I said.

That night Mom and I learned the 107^th move of the 108-move long-form tai chi set. We were feeling pretty pleased with ourselves. When we returned to my house, Dad and Katie looked the same.

“I ride in Grandpa’s new truck,” Katie announced. Dad just bought a cherry red Ford quad-cab with lots of chrome and assorted man-bling. It dwarfs my minivan, and it’s still the prettiest truck I’ve ever seen. From the look on Katie’s face, Grandpa’s truck ranked close to a rollercoaster.

“Well?” Mom said. “How did it go?”

“She did great,” Dad said. “I spent a lot of time looking at gate hardware, figuring out what I could use to fix what we have. I had to let go of her hand, but she stayed in the aisle with me.” I recognized the hint of surprise in his voice. Katie had surpassed his expectations.

“She was a really good girl.” Dad smiled at Katie, who beamed. “Katie and Grandpa go shopping.”

“You did,” I said. “You did an awesome job.” I could tell from the look on Dad’s face that he was recalibrating everything he knew and expected. “Both of you.”

I was so proud of them. It was a milestone more emotional than physical, but it was a huge one nonetheless.

The next week, Katie and Grandpa walked to the park. That excursion went well too.

I can’t wait to see what happens next.

Until next time,
Cynthia Patton