I see you standin' across the room
Watchin' me without a sound
I'm gonna push my way through that crowd
I'm gonna tear all your walls down
Tear all your walls down
“My Love Will Not Let You Down”
This is the next in a series of posts I am writing to explain what I describe as an “improbably mash-up” of experiences, affinities, trials, and passions that form the soul of the Lucas James learning series.
Lucas James Roberts is my son. When he was barely two years old, he was diagnosed with Pervasive Developmental Disorder – Not Otherwise Specified (PDD-NOS). At the time an autism diagnosis couldn’t be given until a child was three years old. Over the years, in addition to a formal autism diagnosis, he’d be diagnosed with epilepsy, Tourette’s, OCD, and ADHD, and I’m sure I’m missing a few. Luke (we call him Luke) is what I’d describe as semi-verbal. I’ve learned that labelling someone as either verbal or non-verbal is a false dichotomy. Luke can speak, but he can’t engage in a conversation. He’s never asked a question in his life. He’s learned to say words that express his wants and needs, like “I want pizza please”. Beyond that, what he thinks and feels are largely a mystery to my wife and I. And as parents that is an excruciatingly painful reality that we sojourn through every minute of every day.
I wanted to honor him through this creative endeavor.
So our main character is Lucas James, a detective not so loosely based on Sherlock Holmes. This is a meaningful designation for a couple of reasons. First, I believe that, much like Sherlock, Luke can see and hear things that most of us can’t. He sees patterns and identifies obscure connections in the most mundane aspects of daily living. He can tell you want song is number 578 in your Apple Music library. Seriously, he can. He doesn’t think like the rest of us. It’s not a liability, it’s just an asset that we haven’t totally figured out how to make sense of yet.
So our main character is Lucas James, a detective not so loosely based on Sherlock Holmes. This is a meaningful designation for a couple of reasons. First, I believe that, much like Sherlock, Luke can see and hear things that most of us can’t. He sees patterns and identifies obscure connections in the most mundane aspects of daily living. He can tell you want song is number 578 in your Apple Music library. Seriously, he can. He doesn’t think like the rest of us. It’s not a liability, it’s just an asset that we haven’t totally figured out how to make sense of yet.
And the second reason the Sherlock character resonates is that, as his parents, we have been detectives for the last 16 years. We are constantly trying to understand what is going on with Luke. What his gestures mean. What his body language is telling us. When he does speak, what is he saying. How do we know when he’s in pain? Or if he’s sick? Or frustrated, and if he is what is he frustrated about? There are days when all of these unsolved mysteries deplete us and leave us buried under the weight of unanswered questions. And there are days when we solve one mystery, just one, like when he says “Capri-Sun” he’s not asking you to get him one, he’s just naming the thing he’s about to do for himself. And you feel elated that you figured one out, and that maybe if you figured that one out you can solve another one, and another one after that. And you have hope that your detective skills will some day rise to the level required to make his life as good as it possibly can be.
When you are a parent of a special child like Luke, your career aspirations often don’t go the way you’d hoped. You make sacrifices. Big sacrifices. I have done that. But I’ve decided that my career and my calling don’t have to be distinct entities. They can meld into a unique creative output that only I could produce. And that’s ultimately the origin story of the Lucas James learning series. It’s one small way I can honor my son in a way that can hopefully help others.
And for you Luke, if you read this someday and are able to understand it, know this. My love will not let you down.