A Special Olympics athlete writes about his own experience being stereotyped, misunderstood, and excluded.

Growing up, I always knew I was different, but I didn’t understand how different until high school, when my mom told me I had Asperger’s syndrome and attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder (ADHD). Hearing that helped me finally make sense of a lot of things — the way I thought, the way I learned, and the way I connected with others. It didn’t change who I was, but it did change how I saw myself.

Unfortunately, not everyone saw me the same way. I’ve been called names, the R-word being one of them, more times than I can count. Every time, it made me angry. It felt like people were judging me before even getting to know me. That word made me feel like I was being seen as less than human, as if I didn’t belong. But the truth is, I’m not less. I’m just different.

When people use that word, they may think it’s harmless, or even a joke. But to those of us who have been on the receiving end, it’s painful. Words matter. They shape how people see you and how you see yourself. If you take anything from my story, I hope it’s this: Think before you speak.

You can always choose a better word, one that builds someone up instead of tearing them down.

Creating change and moving forward

Over the years, I’ve made it my mission to educate others. In high school, I gave talks in my health and child development classes about autism and inclusion. I wanted my classmates to understand that people with disabilities aren’t dumb or incapable; we just think and learn differently.

I’ve done things I never imagined I could do. I help my uncle with his kayaking business. I’ve taught Sunday school. I’ve even given a sermon at church. I serve as chair of my county’s Athlete Leadership Council through Special Olympics, something that allows me to help others and represent my community. I’ve even earned medals in Special Olympics sports. Sports used to feel out of reach for me, but I discovered I’m a lot stronger than I thought.

I also graduated from high school with a regular diploma and earned my driver’s license.

Every goal I’ve achieved has taken patience and persistence. Nothing has come easy, but I’ve learned that some of the best things in life never do.

A homecoming

One of my favorite memories was my first time at the Special Olympics Summer Games. When I walked into the opening ceremonies, I was overwhelmed by emotion. I had to step outside because I started crying tears of joy. For the first time in my life, I felt like I truly belonged. I told my mom, “I feel like I’m home.”

That’s what inclusion feels like, like coming home. Like being surrounded by people who see you for who you are, not what they think you’re not.

So, to anyone reading this, take time to get to know people before judging them. Respect goes a long way. We don’t all have to be best friends, but we do need to treat each other with kindness.

I’ll keep saying it because it’s who I am and what I believe: I’m different, not less. And no one else is, either.