If I learn all truth but do not allow it to change me,
I remain frozen in chosen ignorance.
Potential is realized only in becoming.

Of what use is knowledge unapplied?
If I learn all truth but do not allow it to change me,
I remain frozen in chosen ignorance.
Potential is realized only in becoming.

our pathfinding adventure with Asperger’s
Supportive relationships bring vitality to reality.
We are very grateful to our friends and family who have stood by us during some of our most challenging times. This year, we were able to publish our story of raising our youngest son on a high functioning sliver of the autism spectrum. As the first student in the school district diagnosed with Asperger’s Syndrome, he became the blunt instrument of change it required but didn’t know it needed.
Each phase of life can be a stepping stone to progress.
From the distinct advantage of countless wayfinding steps more than 20 years in the making, we’re now able to tell the tale of our passage. But at the time, we hadn’t a clue to the route, or the fuss we would create.
Words of faith determine the journey’s end before I arrive.
In October this year, we celebrated our 45th anniversary. We couldn’t have imagined most of what our lives have become, but we know Who holds our future, and that faith has both carried us through and worked out all things for our good.
Intentional steps bring opportunities that alter destinies.
In February, Philip obtained a position as a Research Engineer, after the persevering quest of 7 years and 840 job applications. We helped move him to Webster, NY and unload the truck during a winter squall off Lake Ontario with -10° windchill and near-whiteout conditions!
A strong sense of purpose overrides the pain of fulfilling it.
The bold statements in this post come from several of the chapter openings in Stepping Stones: our pathfinding adventure with Asperger’s. In it, we share how we hadn’t planned to be pioneers in an arduous journey—but that’s where we have found love, courage, hope, faith, learning, humor, growth, failure, trial, and triumph—everything that rounds out a life well-lived.
Only by overcoming challenges to my progress do I advance toward it.
Stepping Stones is a trail guide of hope for all the parents and caregivers of children who: appear to have advantages, but somehow do not; want to be happy and fit in, but largely cannot; yearn to be treated respectfully, but usually are not.
I affirm the worth of my potential and progress toward a favorable future.
Despite advances in diagnoses, therapies and other accommodations, many systemic inequities against the neurodivergent remain to be dismantled. This book introduces the concepts required to continue organizational change. And to all parents and caregivers of children with Autism Spectrum Disorder, this true tale offers pragmatic guidance, self-help encouragement, and real reason for hope.
Ignorance imprisons the mind, but learning liberates the spirit.
Philip wrote the last chapter of the book, recounting the life lessons he learned in grad school and in securing a full-time job. He also created the back cover artwork and others in the book. Produced by solving and plotting the results of hundreds of millions of polynomial equations, and then stacked and colorized, he’s named this type of mathematical art “polyplots.”
Sit in peace. Stand on principle. Soar with purpose.
Stepping Stones is available in print or ebook through our website timandcarolherd.com, Barnes & Noble, Amazon, and other booksellers.
We believe in the message our little memoir contains, and we’re trying to reach as many people as possible. We are available for speaking to groups and for book signings. If you are an active Amazon customer, you can post a review, regardless of where you have purchased the book.
We offer this story of our experience to the great range of parents, caregivers, therapists, and support networks—as well as those who are on the autism spectrum themselves—as our like-missioned, kindred spirits. And we thank you for your support.
While the drama was undeniably amusing at the time, it’s a great example of one of the mistakes we made—and the lessons we learned—in nurturing our son’s personal development as he grew up.
“I’m just going to go across the road and… DIE!”
So declared my then eight-year-old son, who has Asperger’s Syndrome.
What caused him such overwhelming agony that he felt he simply could not go on?
I moved a forsythia bush in the yard from there to over there.
And while the drama was undeniably amusing at the time (and required pains to hide it), it’s a great example of one of the mistakes I made—and the lessons I learned—in nurturing my son’s personal development as he grew up.
As mainstream recreational programming widens to welcome more children with special needs, and the real opportunities to raise these children’s future prospects grow, I humbly offer some of the simple strategies my wife and I learned in raising our young son, which may help in providing a more nurturing aspect to your programming.
1 Practice coping mechanisms. Aspergers kids often suffer from sensory overload, detecting every sight and motion, every sound and smell, every texture and sensation. Our son was unable to tune out the background clamor most people don’t even notice. Because it’s not possible to control all surroundings, we introduced and practiced coping mechanisms that helped him manage the overload. Things like deflecting anger with humor, providing a safe place of retreat (very important!), and teaching him how to read facial expressions helped him cope when tensions ran high.
2 Pick Your battles. Because he needed social interaction, but would never choose it on his own, we limited the battles on that front to just two that did him a world of good: Boy Scouts with its outdoor adventures; and marching band with its required precision that appealed to his mathematical mind. Knowing what’s really important, rather than what’s merely a preference, helped us focus our care where he needed it most, and avoid needless confrontations and frustrations.
3 Provide stability. Aspergers kids love their ruts. That’s where they’re comfortably ensconced. They’re happy there, with no need to ever change. Routines are important. Rules are important. So as much as possible, we provided stability at home with our routines and consistency in enforcing rules.
This youngest child of four shared household chores with his siblings. Saturday was yardwork, Sunday was church. Every evening at 5:30 the whole family sat down together for supper. And after we were done eating, we lingered together to share in a variety of subjects—from listening to a piece of music to discussing current events to admiring artwork, or something from science, history or literature. One springtime we read the entire book of The Adventures of Tom Sawyer aloud in small segments after supper. Provide stability.
4 Prepare for changes. You thought you hated change? Try being an Asperger’s kid with absolutely zero tolerance! Here was my mistake in moving the bush: I never warned him. While he was at school one day, I decided on the spur of the moment to transplant the shrub. It was already a done deal when he got home. NNNOOOO!! He simply could not cope with its suddenness. His life was over. The only thing he could do was to go across the road and die!
We learned to prepare our son for changes that will come. One year, we had a great three-week vacation at the end of the summer. When we arrived home, we realized, “oh, yeah, school starts next week.” What! A! Disaster! From that episode we learned to prepare him for transitions. “Son, school starts in 4 weeks, 3 weeks, 2 weeks, next Tuesday…” “You’re going to have to start wearing pants again soon instead of shorts, because the days are getting colder and you’ll freeze your buns off!” Prepare for change.
5 Persevere in unconditional love. No matter the depth of his meltdowns or how he acted out, our love and acceptance as a vital part of our family was never questioned. We approached it from this truth: “Son, you have an amazing gift in being able to view the world from a unique perspective—and you will find purpose in it. Hang in there. We love you intensely!” Persevere!
So for those who have or are working with young children on the autism spectrum, I offer this encouragement and hope: My son —the physicist with a Master’s degree in nuclear physics!—is now working two research jobs with Penn State. Hang in there! It’s hard to predict the ultimate destination of these kinds of adventures. But you have both the opportunity and the ability to make a difference in these children’s lives and their futures. My absolute best to you!