Autistic Teen And Family Kicked Off Flight? What Happened to Compassion?

A flight home from Disney World became a nightmare for an Oregon family after the flight crew made an emergency landing to have them removed from the flight.

While you might imagine that this family was violent or even engaging in terrorist activity to merit such a strong action, they did no such thing. Instead, the mother, Donna Beegle, committed the cardinal sin of advocating for her daughter openly and honestly.

You see, Beegle's 15-year-old daughter, Juliette, has autism. And although Juliette has flown since infancy, on this flight she began to exhibit the warning signs of a meltdown. She was hungry and it had been a long day of traveling, so her mother asked a flight attendant for a hot meal. Juliette will not eat cold food, and she knew a hot meal would prevent the meltdown. Unfortunately, hot meals on this fllght were only available to first class passengers. It was only after Beegle informed the flight attendant that Juliette might "scratch someone" if she didn't receive a hot meal that the flight attendant acquiesced.

Now, I know what you're thinking. "Why should her child be given special privileges? Why didn't she plan ahead for her daughter's needs?

"...Why does she even fly at all?"

But Beegle did plan ahead for her daughter's needs. She packed her a backpack full of snacks, and she tried to feed her a hot meal before the flight, but Juliette refused. And, while hot food on that flight was only available to first class passengers, Beegle wasn't looking for a handout. She offered to pay for a meal.

United Airlines has stood by the decision to remove the family from the flight, saying that the flight crew is charged with ensuring the safety of each flight. The family was flown home on a later flight, and that is good enough according to them.

But it's not good enough. It's not even in the same ballpark as good enough.

While the logistical questions about this story are easily answered, it's that last hypothetical question that strikes the heart of the issue: "Why does she even fly?"

I wonder what comes after that? Why does she even fly if she can't... behave? Hold it together? Or maybe just "act normal"? Because that's what this story is really about. A child who, at 15 years old, is expected not to have meltdowns and to keep it together. And a mother who, by God, should have done a better job of teaching her kid some manners by now.

I wonder sometimes, now that my daughter is a very tall 7 and can no longer pass for an ill-mannered preschooler, what people think of me as she lays on the ground banging her head and screaming. Do they think I am simply ill-equipped to parent? Too stupid to "lay down the law"? Do they think she is stupid, or loud, or "special"?

I wanted to believe when I read this story that people would side with the family, but comments sections across the Internet almost universally blamed the mother. She should've known better, they said, and deep inside I wanted to scream, "You should know better! You are the problem!"

According to United Airlines and social media, Juliette and my daughter have no place on an airline unless they can sit down, shut up, and act just like everyone else. They need to learn to "act normal," or be treated like criminals.

But they have it all wrong.

Like Juliette, my daughter has autism. I took her on our first flight together last year. Like Beegle, I did my best to prepare. But, as we settled in to our seats, she got nervous. She let out a single scream and kicked the seat in front of her. As my mouth opened to tell her not to kick, the woman in front of her turned around and screamed at her to stop, and then apologized to whomever she was talking to on her cell phone. Her scream had apparently hurt their ears.

That scream was my daughter's undoing. What would've ended in a few seconds with some careful handling became a full-fledged meltdown. My daughter screamed and cried and beat her head rhythmically against her seat. Every person that boarded after us glared at me and looked at her in disgust. Her meltdown ended only when a single kind woman came back to our seats and offered her an apple.

We have flown a few times since then and my daughter has never had another meltdown on a plane. These days, if someone screamed at her, we probably would be ejected from the flight because I would never allow someone to do that to my child again. That flight was only two days after she was formally diagnosed with autism, and I hadn't learned to advocate for her yet.

As time goes on, I learn more ways to help my daughter, and she builds more skills to help herself. But none of these will ever make her "normal," or remove the need for accommodations and understanding. And while I do not ask anyone to enjoy a meltdown or screaming, I do implore them to look beyond those things to see my daughter in all of her truths and realities because she is so much more than that. She is just as complex and beautiful and valuable as my other children who can sit quietly on an airplane, but you will never see that if you are screaming at her or glaring at me. You certainly will never see her if she is escorted from a flight because she had a meltdown like Juliette.

Autism isn't rare and it isn't going anywhere. Instead of demanding that children with autism act "normal," it's time to re-define our ideas of normal and teach ourselves inclusivity and tolerance, too. Certainly, meltdowns aren't pleasant but we can approach them with compassion instead of fear. Autism doesn't end as children age, and while teenagers and adults having meltdowns might make us uncomfortable, intolerance and exclusion only compound the sense of judgment and isolation families already feel. Children with autism grow into adults with autism, and it is up to us to create a society that meets their unique needs at every age.

United Airlines removed a child from a flight because flying while autistic was considered a "safety risk." Sometimes, my daughter scratches, kicks, or hits during a meltdown. Mostly, she just screams. That is autism. That is our life. We will try our best, and we will give you fair warning, but we aren't going to hide ourselves away no matter how uncomfortable autism makes you.

You have a choice when you meet a child like Juliette or my daughter. You can be the person who screams or the person who offers her an apple. Next time, I hope you choose the latter.