Fosterhood in NYC

When I picked Jacket up Monday night she was understandably crying but in the middle of a sob she turned to me and said “Can I go to Harriet’s tomorrow and you go to work?” I have to admit, for a second I was all ‘Am I chopped liver?’ but I didn’t say it out loud.

Here Harriet is wearing a crown Jacket made for her in my office on Tuesday. Harriet’s mom, Ara, and I both work with people with autism and funny enough Jacket “wrote” some names of individuals with autism in glitter glue around the crown. Non-verbal folks with autism are always coming in and out of my office whether it be to swipe my lunch, tap on the walls or flick the lights. Jacket’s met them over the years but I was surprised when she pointed to her writing and said “This is Aran”. “Ara?” I asked. “No, ARAN. The man who comes in here to touch all of your papers. That little man behind him is always calling him…Aran, Aran! but he never comes.” Ha- she means Aaron. And the little man is Aaron’s staff.

*photo credit to Ara!