Compassion Matters

When I was in grad school completing my clinical rotations, I met an autistic student who taught me a lesson I’ll never forget. He repeatedly said, “My head hurts. My head hurts. My head hurts,” with his hand pressed to his head, desperately seeking help. I told the classroom staff that I was going to take him to the nurse. Their response? Eye rolls and dismissive comments like, “He always says that. He’s just trying to get out of doing his work.”

The child’s urgency and body language spoke volumes, but no one around me seemed to listen. Even the nurse, after checking him, declared, “He’s fine. His head is fine.” The system failed this child repeatedly. His pain was dismissed as “attention-seeking behavior,” and I, as a student, felt powerless to change the narrative.

A Decade Later: What I’ve Learned

Looking back, I see now how much more could have been done for that student. Headaches aren’t always visible, and chronic pain often doesn’t leave a physical mark. Perhaps his headache was linked to hunger, dehydration, poor sleep, or even medication side effects.

• Basic Needs First: We must first consider unmet physical needs. Was he hungry? Thirsty? Sleep-deprived? These are simple but often overlooked questions.

• The Family’s Insight Matters: His family should have been informed and involved. If it were my child, I would want to know they were expressing pain regularly.

• Understanding Gestalt Language Processing: “My head hurts” could have been a script—a gestalt—used to convey distress. For many gestalt language processors, scripts may not always be literal but are still deeply meaningful.

Compassion Over Compliance

The child’s pain—whether physical, emotional, or sensory—deserved acknowledgment. Instead of brushing off his words as “just a behavior,” I did my best to meet him with compassion. I gave him water, offered head rubs, and drew pictures of his favorite characters. These were small acts, but they were my attempt to show him that someone was listening and cared.

Unfortunately, this story isn’t unique. Far too often, the cries of autistic children are dismissed or misunderstood by adults who fail to see beyond the behavior. But behaviors are not random—they are a form of communication, especially for those who may struggle to express themselves verbally.

Building a Culture of Advocacy

This experience strengthened my resolve to advocate for autistic kids and teach others to do the same. Here’s how we can all make a difference:

• Listen First: Take the time to truly listen to what the child is communicating, whether through words, gestures, or actions.

• Seek Context: Ask questions about their physical needs, environment, and emotional state. Assumptions help no one.

• Challenge the System: Speak up when something feels wrong. Change doesn’t happen by staying silent.

• Prioritize Connection: Connection and compassion should always outweigh compliance. Building trust with a child paves the way for better outcomes.

Call to Action

We have a choice: Do we dismiss a child’s pain and label it as “just a behavior,” or do we advocate for a better, more compassionate approach?

If you’re ready to deepen your understanding and support for autistic kids, check out The Great Language Partner Workbook. This resource is packed with practical tools and strategies to help parents and professionals nurture meaningful communication and connection. Together, we can create a world where every child feels heard, valued, and understood.