Cheryl’s story begins in quiet worry, weighed down by the demand of raising her differently abled son in a world that prides itself in progress and praises innovation and inclusivity, but is quick to judge what it hardly understands.
The single mother of Rusell, who has Level 3 autism spectrum disorder (ASD), tells her story in Filipino. She hopes society will realize that no matter the hardship of the carers, it’s doubly difficult for those with the condition.
Cheryl, 53, works both as property custodian and as assistant to a school dean. She has learned that the financial demands of Rusell’s therapy, assessments, and daily needs are heavy, but the emotional toll of society’s judgment is heavier.
ASD is a lifelong developmental condition that typically appears in early childhood and affects individuals in different ways. Because autism exists on a spectrum, autistic children and adults may display a wide range of traits, strengths, and challenges, particularly in communication, social interaction, and behavior.
The exact cause of autism is not fully known, but research suggests that genetic factors contribute to its development. Certain genes, genetic mutations, or conditions such as Rett syndrome may increase the likelihood of ASD, and researchers continue to explore environmental influences such as prenatal complications or exposure to pollutants.
Although autism is a lifelong condition, early diagnosis and intervention can significantly improve developmental outcomes.
Subtle signs
Among Cheryl’s earliest memories of Rusell, now 19, are subtle hints of what was to come—instances of absent eye contact and toys carefully lined in rows instead of being played with. These small signs brought big fears, forcing her to navigate an unfamiliar world by herself.
Her journey connects naturally to that of Cindy, the mother of 11-year-old Leon who has Level 2 ASD.
Cindy, 37, shares a similar story of early signs, confusion, and judgment, and recalls a friend telling her about the way Leon was arranging his toys—a simple action that opened the door to a deeper understanding of autism.
Cheryl and Cindy have faced criticism from those who mistake their sons’ exuberance for misbehavior, unaware that joy can look different for children with ASD.
Indeed, the ASD community continues to live in silence—not by choice, but by neglect. The cost of treatment by developmental pediatricians, therapy sessions, and long waiting periods for assessment often push families to the edge.
“We’re talking about the struggle of a single parent,” Cheryl says. “Financial stability is a big factor for the PWD (person with disability) assessments. I got Rusell checked before we got the PWD ID, and it cost us ₱3,000. I looked tirelessly for cheaper alternatives, and the release of the assessments took a month.”
“I hope people realize it’s harder for them than it is for us,” she says, her voice fraught with exhaustion and love.
More than finances, it is the world’s impatience that hurts Cheryl, especially when people assume that her son’s “normal appearance” means he should behave like everyone else. She says she learned early on that she must explain, defend, and advocate for Rusell—because silence would not protect her child.
Invisibility
Autism remains widely misunderstood because children like Rusell and Leon look “typical,” making their struggles easy to dismiss. This invisibility leads to hurtful assumptions, leaving mothers to fight for understanding even in places where compassion should exist.
Historically, autism was categorized into such types as classic autism (autistic disorder), Asperger’s syndrome, pervasive developmental disorder–not otherwise specified (PDD-NOS), childhood disintegrative disorder (CDD), and Rett syndrome. However, these conditions are now generally understood as part of the broader autism spectrum because individuals may show overlapping characteristics and varying levels of support needs, according to the Autism Research Institute.
The burden doubles for Cheryl as a single mother who manages therapy, school needs, finances, and handling Rusell’s behavior alone. She says she survives through prayer, grit, and love that stretches farther than fatigue. It is this resilience that allows her to rise each morning ready to fight for her son once again.
Cindy chose to sacrifice her career to give Leon the structure and presence he needs, even when society never acknowledged the price of that choice.
School became one of the hardest battlegrounds for these mothers, as classrooms built for uniformity clashed with their children’s unique learning needs.
Rusell needed lessons repeated several times before he could absorb them, and Leon’s enthusiasm was misunderstood as lack of discipline.
Differences, not deficits
It is here that voices like that of Kathy Santos, a guidance counselor from Miriam College, become vital in reshaping how society views children on the spectrum. She emphasizes that every child with ASD is unique and that their strengths—whether in art, music, or focused interests—deserve to be recognized and nurtured.
Backed by years of witnessing both struggle and brilliance, Santos issues a reminder: “Every child with ASD is different…Treat each child uniquely.”
She adds: “I see that they are very good at art. Visual arts. The one I mentioned who doesn’t throw tantrums in school, he’s very good at drawing and graphics. I saw one who’s good at music. There are some that are very much excited at certain things, so they’re very much aware of their interests.”
Santos’ insight illustrates how deeply the system needs empathy, training, and commitment before true inclusion can take place. Her words echo what Cindy and Cheryl have long understood: Their children are defined, not by deficits, but by differences.
The repetition Cheryl describes is not a failure but a pathway tailored to Rusell’s way of processing. The behaviors Cindy recounts are not malice on Leon’s part but expressions of joy that require guidance and understanding. To see autism only through the lens of limitation is to miss the individuality that makes each child remarkable.
According to Santos, Republic Act No. 11650 (or the Inclusive Education Act) underscores inclusive, barrier-free education for autistic learners. This requires the Department of Education to establish Inclusive Learning Resource Centers and train assessment, intervention, and personalized learning within regular classrooms or specialized settings.
The Inclusive Education Act promises space in regular classrooms for learners with disabilities, signaling an institutional step toward fairness.
But for mothers like Cheryl, policies feel distant when daily challenges continue and implementation remains uneven at best. She says she survives her travails (bills, receipts, and hours spent queuing for services that should be readily accessible but are not) by holding tightly to love, prayers, and the belief that her efforts matter even when the world does not always acknowledge them. She perseveres in her advocacy, proving that motherhood is a constant act of courage.
Moments and milestones
Cheryl’s most significant moment came in 2025 when she walked with Rusell onstage and stood beside him as he received his senior high school diploma with steady hands. “Every sacrifice and prayer was worth it,” she recalls proudly.
For Cindy, milestones come in different forms, often celebrated online to inspire families who feel as lost as she once did. Her posts serve as reminders that autism is not a closed door but an open path to growth that simply follows a different rhythm.
Her Facebook page is more than a personal archive; it is a living narrative of resilience, a mother’s refusal to let silence define her child’s story.
In the interviews, Cheryl and Cindy are asked the same last question: If your child can understand you, what would you tell him?
Says Cindy of Leon: “I always tell him it’s okay not to be okay. I’ll always accept whoever he becomes as long as he doesn’t step on other people. He doesn’t have to change who he is for me because I love him so much.”
Says Cheryl of Rusell: “My son, everything I teach you is for you to become a good person. Learn how to make friends because you will use that one day…I hope we’ll still be together. Simple as that. Just the two of us. That we’ll be able to achieve our dreams.”
Simple, aching, and unconditional, the messages reveal what every parent of a child on the spectrum knows: Love is their language even when words fail. Behind every challenge is a mother holding the line, teaching, guiding, hoping. And behind every #AUsome child is a future that can flourish, if only the world chooses to nurture it. CS
Kasheena Collado and Anthea Napay are students of International Studies, majoring in International Politics and Peace Studies, at Miriam College in Quezon City.
