My friends, I desperately hoped that by now I’d be shouting from the rooftops to tell you that the President had heeded our call and planned to acknowledge our community by lighting his house blue tonight. While I’m still holding out hope for a last-minute miracle, it looks less and less likely with each passing minute that we will see or hear anything tonight.
Earlier today, I received an invitation from the White House. I’ll admit that I checked it out seven ways to Sunday to ensure that it wasn’t an April Fool’s prank, but it turned out to really be from 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. It said, “You are cordially invited to join senior White House and administration officials at an event in observance of Autism Awareness Month.” The event, whatever it may actually be, takes place at the end of April.
I am honored and I am grateful. I am anxious and I am excited. But above all, right in this moment, I’m tired. I’m sad and I’m frustrated. And just for a few minutes today I’m allowing myself the luxury of feeling pretty damn demoralized.
A blue light. It seemed so simple. It seemed so eminently doable. It seemed like a such a small thing that would be anything but to our community.
I wanted so desperately to make it happen.
I have accepted the invitation to the White House. The invitation was for one person only, but I won’t be going alone. I will be taking each and every one of you with me. I will be walking in the gates carrying our stories and our children’s stories – their challenges, their struggles, their hurt, their will, their victories, their indomitable spirits. I will do everything in my power to make sure that they are heard. That we are heard.
I’m so sorry.