I started my career fresh out of college in a classroom, helping children with special needs find their place, their rhythm, and their voice. I was a 20-something with a heart for kids who the world too often overlooked. I saw brilliance in the students others called “difficult.” I witnessed joy in their nontraditional milestones. That experience led me to public health work, where I focused on creating messaging and campaigns that respected people’s dignity, not erased it.

During that time, I was fortunate enough to work alongside brilliant doctors, researchers, and public health professionals who were also on the autism spectrum. They brought invaluable insight, creativity, and depth to work and reminded me every day that autism is not a limitation, but a different way of experiencing and contributing to the world.

That’s why hearing Robert F. Kennedy Jr.’s recent comments about autism broke something in me.

In a speech that should have been grounded in science and compassion, RFK offered conspiracy theories and outdated misinformation, falsely linking autism to vaccines — a claim thoroughly discredited for decades. What makes it worse is that he delivered this message during Autism Acceptance Month, a time when we should be amplifying the unique gifts and talents of autistic children, not silencing or stigmatizing them.

RFK Jr.’s rhetoric isn’t just wrong, it’s dangerous. It fuels stigma. It sets back years of advocacy. It pits parents against science and tells autistic people that who they are is a problem to be solved.

Actress Holly Robinson Peete, who became an autism advocate after her son was diagnosed, wrote on X: “My 27-year-old son with autism didn’t ‘destroy our family’ — he gave us purpose and unity… oh, and he pays taxes.”

This isn’t abstract for me either. I have a niece and a nephew on the spectrum. They are funny, brilliant, creative, and deeply loved. They deserve a country that sees them fully and builds systems that help them thrive.

That’s why Kennedy’s message and the policies proposed under the Trump administration are so maddening.

With the dismantling of the Department of Education, oversight of the Individuals with Disabilities Education Act (IDEA) now falls under the Department of Health and Human Services (HHS), led by Kennedy. That shift alone is alarming. It removes critical protections from an agency built to ensure educational equity and hands them over to an agency with no track record of safeguarding that students with disabilities receive a fair education or enforcing their civil rights.

IDEA is an education issue, not a medical one. How can we expect fair implementation of laws designed to protect autistic students when the person in charge does not see autism through the lens of dignity and inclusion? When he is against vaccines that he falsely claims causes autism? And that autism is a “disease” that needs to be cured? How can families trust that their children’s rights will be protected?

Additionally, funding cuts to the Special Education Programs are not just bureaucratic tweaks. They are direct threats to students like my niece and nephew. They mean fewer resources, fewer civil rights protections, and fewer opportunities for students who already face enough barriers.

When special education is underfunded, it’s not just programs that are lost; it’s dreams, it’s progress; it’s potential.

So, let’s be clear: Autism Acceptance Month is not a time for fear-based narratives. It’s a time for advocacy. It’s a time for policy rooted in inclusion and equity.  We don’t need government officials making assumptions about individuals and families they don’t understand. We need leaders who value every child, no matter how they communicate, move, or learn.

What we should be doing is investing in inclusive education, supporting families, and expanding access to therapies, programs, and resources that autistic students need. We should be creating public health campaigns that inform, not incite or misinform. And we should be demanding that our elected officials respect science, because when they don’t, our most vulnerable communities suffer.

As someone who has stood beside autistic students and now advocates for two amazing kids in my own family, I will not be silent.

Not during Autism Acceptance Month.

Not while harmful policies loom.

Not while disinformation spreads from podiums with microphones too loud and hearts too closed.

We deserve better. Our children deserve better.

And it’s up to all of us to make sure they get it.

Blog: Dangers of HHS Control of Special Education