A HEART OF GOLD
Guest Post by Whit Downing
Hey I’m Whit and I’m autistic. I wanted to share something with you all that I wrote today!!! My hope is that educators read this. And my hope is that families be encouraged by my story and know things can get better. My early years were REALLY tough, and I still struggle, but with the right support, I also am thriving. I live in a community full of others with developmental disabilities, I have friends, I have a case manager, a talk therapist, an occupational therapist, a PCA, a job coach, a financial advisor, and very supportive/accommodating employment with Kansas Council on Developmental Disabilities.
I wasn’t “emotionally disturbed.” I was autistic and traumatized by a system that didn’t understand me.
My very first memory in life is the first day of kindergarten. Not fragments. Not flashes. I remember all of it…
I remember the noise and confusion. I remember throwing up almost every day, my body reacting to stress I didn’t have words for yet. I remember not understanding the rules, the expectations, or why everything felt so overwhelming. I remember screaming and crying… not because I was defiant, but because I was in distress.
As a young child, I felt everything intensely… sounds, emotions, transitions, rejection. Autism shaped how my nervous system processed the world. But instead of receiving understanding and support, I was met with frustration, control, and punishment. Adults at school focused on managing my behavior(throwing up, screaming, not participating) instead of listening to what my behavior was communicating.
They say I was severely emotionally disturbed.
That label never told my truth.
The truth is this: autism did not cause my pain; trauma did. And that trauma came from being autistic in environments that were not built for me, led by adults who did not understand me, and governed by systems that prioritized compliance over care. When an autistic child’s needs are repeatedly unmet, misunderstood, or punished, trauma is not an exception… it is an outcome!!
I learned very early that I feel too much and too deeply.
I learned that belonging comes with terms and conditions. Be kind, but not sensitive. Be honest, but not intense. Be yourself, but only the parts that make others comfortable. That lesson stayed with me long after kindergarten, shaping how I move through schools, workplaces, relationships, and systems of care.
And still, I have a heart of gold.
I care about people. I notice who is left out. I feel other people’s pain as if it’s my own. But alongside that heart is my tortured soul.
Autism didn’t make me weak. The suffering came from systems that refused to adapt, from adults who weren’t given the tools, or didn’t take the time to meet me where I was.
Today, I work in advocacy. That is not an accident.
Every policy I push for, every resource I help create, every effort I make to build more accessible and inclusive systems is rooted in that kindergarten classroom. It’s for the autistic child whose distress is still being labeled as “behavior.” It’s for the kids and adults with disabilities who are still being managed instead of understood. It’s for those with hearts of gold and souls worn thin by survival.
We can do better than labeling children without listening to them. We can train educators, providers, and systems to recognize autism, sensory distress, and trauma, and respond with compassion instead of control. We can create environments where autistic people are supported, not punished, for being who they are.
I carry my autism openly now. I name the trauma honestly. And I refuse to believe that feeling deeply is a defect.
My heart is gold because I feel deeply. My soul bears scars because the world didn’t know how to hold that depth.
But I am still here. Turning pain into purpose, and insisting that the next generation deserves better. 💛
To hear more from wonderful Whit, attend a free panel on January 31, 2026 hosted by Camp Encourage. For details and to reserve your seat, CLICK HERE.
