Huffington Magazine Issue 83 | Page 41

WASHINGTON — Greg Masucci just wants to hear his little boy say his own name. ¶ That’s what he tells developmental specialists as he sits in an office at John Tyler Elementary School for what feels like the hundredth meeting to hash out his son’s educational goals. This time, the specialists insist the school can’t be expected to teach 6-yearold Maximus to say his name and his family’s name upon request. “He should be able to say his name, our name … and maybe ‘Washington, D.C.,’” Greg says. “You know, just, God forbid, if he gets kidnapped.” Max has severe autism. He can’t talk, sit still or express his desires. Sometimes he smears his own feces on bathroom walls and dives head first onto his bed. No one understands why. Greg’s nightmare scenario of losing Max isn’t hypothetical. Schools have lost him in the past. Once, he escaped through a broken gate and into a field adjacent to a feeder street to the highway. When his father found him, Max was just feet away from oncoming traffic, walking toward a soccer goal at the field’s end. Although his story ended happily, it doesn’t always for others. Avonte Oquendo, a 14-yearold New York City boy with autism, is still missing more than four weeks after walking out the front doors of his public school.