A Word on “Warrior Moms”
Warrior Mom: it’s a title many parents claim proudly, and a term most autistic people react to with horror and fury. Why?
Well, let’s start with the dislike. Many in the autistic community associate this term with a particular (and largely American) parent community that refuses any concept of autism acceptance. In this model, mothers are waging war against autism itself, avidly seeking cures and preventions, viewing their children’s condition as tragic and wholly undesirable. Autistic people, understandably, view this as a war against them, their very existence. It hurts to think that their own parents wish that they had been born different… even if it is only to spare them the struggles they face. They hate the implication that parenting autistic children is inherently a struggle, because that makes autism itself seem like a horrible thing. There has been a lot written about this elsewhere, so I won’t belabor the point.
But there’s another interpretation of the term “warrior mom” as well, and I think it’s a valid one. The distinction is crucial: both see themselves as fighting for their children, but while one type is fighting to “fix” what is “wrong” with their children, the other is fighting for their children’s right to exist as they are and have the best possible autistic life.
And it is a fight, make no mistake. It’s hard enough to give any child a good life, but parents of disabled children must go far above and beyond. I see many of my clients’ families waging this war constantly — and yes, usually it’s the mothers who are on the front line. This is a war against the judgment of strangers and family members alike, against school systems that drag their feet on providing reasonable accommodations, against professionals skeptical of these kids’ talents and potential, against bullies of all ages.
These moms are warriors because they make millions of phone calls trying to get through to someone who can actually make a positive difference in their kids’ lives. They are the ones calling for IEP meeting after IEP meeting, just trying to get their child into a classroom that doesn’t make them miserable. I see mothers who don’t speak English as their primary language struggling through legal papers trying to make sure they don’t miss a single accommodation their child has the right to have. They take time off work for classroom visits to make sure their kid is being taught at an appropriate academic level.
These moms are tenacious. They spend years clawing their way up waiting lists for the best PTs and OTs and accessible summer camps and the teachers that other families love. They drive for hours to visit the one provider who is actually helping their kid’s digestive problems, then spending another two hours on hold trying to convince their insurance company to cover the visit. They fight their homeowners association or landlord’s rules so that their kid can have a trampoline or kiddie pool or companion animal or whatever they need.
These moms endure a lot. People yell at them for not “controlling” their child, kick them out of places for being disruptive, and deluge them with well-meant but infuriating advice. They often have to fight against their own personality or their own cultural norms in order to advocate for their children. The work is, of course, worth it — but that doesn’t make it any less exhausting, intimidating, or overwhelming.
So this is why, unlike many in the autistic rights community, I don’t automatically get angry when I hear terms like “warrior mom” or “super-mom.” Because plenty of mothers truly deserve those titles, for reasons that don’t reflect negatively on autism at all. So let’s put the blame where it belongs: on the society and systems that make life harder on all of us, autistic people and parents alike. And let’s work to change it. Because no mother should have to become a superwoman just to get their children’s needs met.