I remember approaching Nickolas’ graduation with two emotions sitting side by side: Pride and Anxiety.
He was finishing high school, but Nickolas wasn’t talking about finishing. He was talking about what came next.

“I want to go to college. I want to go to university.”

And every time he said it, my mind filled with questions.

Where would he go? What programmes were available for a young autistic man with his particular strengths and support needs? How would I pay for it? How would he get there and back? And perhaps the hardest question of all: Who would help me make it happen?

As a single parent, much of my resources had always gone towards the everyday business of survival. There wasn’t another parent with whom to divide the transportation, expenses, appointments, decisions or worries.

And in 2022, when Nickolas finished school, I couldn’t see the practical support system that would help him take that next step.

Support isn’t only someone saying, “You’re doing a great job.” Those words matter. Sometimes they are exactly what a tired parent needs to hear. But eventually, words have to become action.

Love, after all, is a verb.

Sometimes love sounds like, “I’ll take him today.” Sometimes support looks like a programme saying, “There is a place for him here.” Sometimes it is simply someone noticing a young person’s potential and creating an opportunity for that potential to grow.

Perhaps that is why the end of school can feel so unsettling for some autism families.
For years, life has a timetable. There is a next class, a next term, a next grade.
Then suddenly, there isn’t.

But four years later, I see this season differently.
The question is no longer simply, “Where can Nickolas go next?”

It is, “What kind of future does Nickolas want for himself, and what can I do to help him move towards it?”

College may still be part of that story. So, might employment, skills training, volunteering, friendships, recreation, community involvement, and greater independence.

Our autistic young adults still need purpose. They need opportunities to contribute, learn, belong, and dream. And perhaps sometimes, as parents, we must stop looking only for the traditional path and begin helping them create one that fits who they are.

That is why I have begun thinking about something simple: My Week Has Purpose…a weekly plan built around four areas:
Responsibility- something he is responsible for
Learning or work, something that develops his skills
Community, something that connects him with others
Enjoyment- something he simply likes to do

It isn’t about filling every hour of the day. It is about making sure that when the school timetable ends, purpose doesn’t end with it

Graduation should not mean that the possibilities become smaller. Nickolas still has dreams. He still talks about college. He still wants more for himself.

I believe in him. I know what he is capable of.

But perhaps belief is only the beginning.

If love is a verb, how do we turn our encouragement of autistic young adults into the opportunities they need to move forward?

(Tanya Joseph is an Autism Acceptance Advocate, Caribbean Sign Language Interpreter, biology educator with more than two decades of experience, and mother to a young autistic adult. Through her advocacy, writing, and community initiatives, she is committed to advancing neurodiversity and fostering a more inclusive society while providing practical guidance and support for families navigating the autism journey. Feedback, comments, and suggestions are welcome at joseph.tanya2009@gmail.com or via call/WhatsApp at 1-268-789-9009.)

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Picture one: Graduation ended the timetable…not Nickolas’ dreams for what comes next.