To disclose or not to disclose

“Do I say my child has autism?”

“Will he get different treatment if I do?”

“But how else can I explain that she’s doing [fill in seemingly "inappropriate" activity] because she’s autistic and not because she is ‘bad’?”

These questions cross the mind of most parents when they are in a public setting with their autistic child who might be touching every roll of paper towels, sniffing each pack of sushi, pacing back and forth and not “nicely” standing in line, screeching at the sound of a merry-go-round.

It was around the time Charlie turned 5 was when I started simply to say

• “My son has autism.“
• “He’s autistic.”

The recent army recruitment of autistic teenager Jared Guinther casts another angle on to “autism disclosure.” The 18-year-old did not inform an army recruiter about his being autistic and was signed up be a cavalry scout, “one of the Army’s more dangerous assignments,” according to Army Recruitment of Autistic Teen Raises Questions in ABCnews.com.

Despite being autistic, Guinther scored higher than the minimum needed for the Army’s basic entrance exam and passed a physical with an Army doctor.

Gaylan Johnson, a spokesman for the Military Entrance Processing Station in Portland, says the doctors conducting the physicals depend on recruits’ honest self-disclosure of any medical conditions.

Johnson compared it to a recruit with a heart murmur. “An individual may or may not be aware of his condition, but since they’re intermittent and not on every heartbeat, when the stethoscope is on the chest the doctor doesn’t know any different,” he said.

My understanding is that parents are worried that there is a “stigma” about “labeling” a child as autistic and therefore would prefer not to disclose their child’s autism. As Charlie has gotten older, disclosing his being autistic has become not only helpful, but–and if I may be optimistic–also makes a small step in changing the general public’s understanding of autism.

Do you disclose or do you not?