Thursday night’s Brooklyn Reading Works was really special. One of the writers, Kristina Chew, writes on her blog about that special evening. She has also written quite a bit about the news circulating in the wake of the Virginia Tech murders that Cho Heung-Sui might have had an autism diagnosis.

It was past midnight when we got home from Brooklyn on Thursday, after MothersVox’s and my reading with Brooklyn Reading Works at The Old Stone House. She has written up a lovely summary of what she read and what I read. Thank so much to all who came—I would like to sit down with each of you (with coffee, perhaps) and just talk, and just listen. Thank you.

There is always time to describe the kind of good feeling and warmth that emanated from the second floor room of The Old Stone House, of the immediate connections—the bonds—I feel when I meet parents and relatives of autistic persons. I will be writing more about what was said, and about the whole adventure of the evening (Charlie had a lot of subway rides). When I came home, though after getting Charlie into his pajamas and then bed, and when I sat down to write, what I felt I had to post about was this. After reviewing the headlines in the news sources this morning, it is clear that a lot of speculation, rumor, and very charged worry is spreading around the internet, and will continue to do so; that the word “autism” and an “autism diagnosis” are being associated with some things that all of us would rather these not be associated with. I hope we can proceed to respond to all this carefully. I hope we can try to steer clear of hopelessness, and of hysteria.

Here is something hopeful.

Charlie attended part of the reading last night and, in particular, the part when I was reading. Jim and I have a policy of not talking about him in his presence and—seeing him sitting in the front row looking at me out of the sides of his eyes and trying not to make a sound—everything I was reading sounded very different; I kept glancing over at Charlie. How, in particular, should I read my renditions of Charlie’s speech

As ever, Charlie helped me out. A few sentences into me reading Translating Sappho, Translating Charlie, he said “Mom!”

I looked up. “Yes, Charlie.”

“Mom!”

“Yes?”

“I want!”

“You want…..”

“I want. I want. I want, Mom, I want!”

Or something like that—MothersVox and I are working on putting up a podcast, so you can test my memory against what Charlie really said. Jim and Charlie went out for a walk (and a snack, and one of those subways rides) and I continued to read, in the echo of Charlie’s own voice.

Which I hope you’ll be able to hear, very soon.