Learning Him, Loving Him: A Mother's Journey. Part 2.
- Elizabeth-Gaye Foundation
- Apr 19
- 3 min read

Part 2 of our Autism Awareness Month Series
April is Autism Awareness Month—a time to celebrate, honor, and uplift the stories that too often go unheard. In this two-part series, we’re highlighting the experiences of Black mothers raising sons on the autism spectrum. In this installment, we share the raw, honest, and deeply moving journey of Tyeasha and her son, Cornell.
Facing the Diagnosis: A New Reality
When Tyeasha first heard the word “Autism” attached to her son, she couldn’t fully accept it.
“At first, I was in denial. I didn’t want to believe it was real,” she recalls.
It was Cornell’s daycare that first pointed out developmental behaviors that raised concerns. Though reluctant, Tyeasha followed up with an evaluation—an act that would ultimately change their lives. At just 2.5 years old, Cornell was diagnosed with Level 3 Autism, the most significant level of support needs. He wasn’t responding to his name, wasn’t speaking, struggled with eye contact, and exhibited behaviors like spinning in circles, hand-flapping, and lining up objects.
That day marked a turning point for Tyeasha—not just in understanding her son, but in learning how to become his strongest advocate.
The Weight of Parenting Differently
Raising a child with high-support needs meant reshaping everyday life in drastic ways.
“In the beginning, it was horrible, because I was trying to parent Cornell like he was neurotypical—and he wasn’t.”
Outings like dinner, festivals, or playdates became overwhelming and anxiety-inducing. The fear of meltdowns, judgment from others, or Cornell eloping made the outside world feel unsafe. They often stayed home to avoid overstimulation.
“It was depressing. Friends didn’t understand why we couldn’t do certain things.”
Yet over time, through consistent ABA therapy, speech, and occupational therapy, things began to shift. Small milestones became big victories. And Tyeasha learned that while their life may look different, it was still deeply meaningful.
The Emotional Toll: Mothering While Breaking
Behind the brave face was a mom fighting silent battles.
“The most challenging part? Being a single mom to a non-verbal child, and trying to stay sane.”
There were moments Tyeasha felt exposed and vulnerable in public, misunderstood by a world that didn’t see the struggle or offer grace. She battled feelings of guilt, isolation, and burnout—especially when Cornell couldn’t communicate his needs.
“People tell me I’m doing amazing, but what they don’t see is that doing amazing with him means doing horrible with me.”
Balancing Cornell’s needs while trying to maintain her own mental health felt nearly impossible. She worked out when she could—running and kickboxing brought mental clarity—but even that wasn’t always feasible.
Support, Strategy, and Community
Tyeasha leaned on therapy, training, and a small but powerful circle of support. Early intervention and dedicated therapists made a big difference, as did honest conversations with friends and family.
She also joined online support groups, which helped normalize her emotions and gave her space to vent without judgment.
“Sometimes you just need to say what you’re feeling and hear someone else say, ‘Me too.’”
When choosing therapists, she trusted her gut—observing sessions, asking questions, and not hesitating to request a new provider when it wasn’t a good fit. She reminds other parents: you are your child’s best advocate.
Why This Story Matters: The Statistics
Tyeasha’s experience is not uncommon—but it’s too often unheard. Research shows that Black children are 1.5 times more likely to be diagnosed with autism than white children—yet they are often diagnosed later and receive fewer services.(Source: CDC, 2023 | HHS Office of Minority Health)
Black boys especially are at risk of being misdiagnosed or labeled as "behavioral problems" rather than receiving timely, supportive care. These disparities can have long-term impacts on education, mental health, and quality of life.
Advice to Other Parents
Tyeasha offers this honest guidance to those beginning their autism journey:
“Grab some wine and give yourself grace. This is hard—for both of you. You’re allowed to grieve the life you imagined, and still show up for the one you have.”
She encourages parents to set boundaries, educate family and friends, and seek out advocates within the school system. Above all, she reminds them that autism doesn’t look one way, and neither does your child’s journey.
The Gift of His Words
At 4.5 years old, something shifted: Cornell began using words.
“Hearing him say ‘Mommy’ and label things—those are the moments I prayed for.”
He still speaks in short phrases, but to Tyeasha, every word is a breakthrough. Every connection, a reward. Every quiet milestone, a reminder that progress is happening.
Final Reflection
“Raising Cornell has reframed everything I thought I knew about parenting. I’ve learned to move through life with more patience, more softness, more faith.”
Tyeasha’s journey with Cornell is one of resilience, love, and constant learning. It’s also a powerful reminder: when we embrace neurodivergent children with empathy and support, we allow them—and their families—to truly thrive.





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