My Son and I Are Autistic. Here’s Why RFK Jr. Is Wrong About Us (Exclusive)

Andi Putt and her son Kam. Photo:

Andi Putt

When I heard Robert F. Kennedy Jr. say “autism destroys families,” and that autistic people would never pay taxes, play baseball, go on dates, write poems, or use a toilet alone, I rolled my eyes. It was just another outrageous comment in a political moment already overflowing with misinformation and fear.

But the more I sat with it, the heavier it felt. “They’ll never pay taxes” wasn’t just a careless line — it signaled that human worth depends on productivity. And when that message comes from someone with the power to shape public policy, it’s not just offensive — it’s dangerous.

I’m an autistic disability advocate, a parent to an autistic child, and a speech-language pathologist who specializes in autism evaluations. RFK Jr. has never met a family like mine. We have our challenges, but we’re not broken or tragic. We’re building something strong, honest and good. Autism hasn’t torn us apart; it’s helped us understand and connect more deeply.

Andi Putt calls RFK Jr.’s rhetoric ‘dehumanizing’. Andi Putt

It’s never felt like a tragedy that my son Kam and I are autistic. When he was diagnosed two years ago, I told him happily — and with donuts — and let him decide if, when, and how he wanted to share it. Kam is joyful, curious, and wildly passionate about the things he loves. He can tell you more than you ever wanted about King Cobras or Peregrine Falcons, and he loves building elaborate worlds in Minecraft. He feels deeply, loves fiercely; in turn, he is loved just as fiercely by his friends and family.

Kam also finds comfort in routine and has high connection needs, and engaging with me is both his deep interest and his way of staying regulated. Even just while writing this, I’ve answered dozens of his questions and co-regulated him through two near-meltdowns.

That constant interaction often leaves me dysregulated, which is what originally made me begin to question my own neurotype. When my mom said, “He can’t be autistic — he’s just like you,” it clicked that I was probably autistic too. That’s what led me to pursue my own diagnosis.

None of that is negative. So why does RFK Jr. make negative sweeping generalizations about autism?

Andi Putt with her son Kam. Andi Putt

Not all people with autism are the same. It’s true that some autistic children require constant care, may never speak (which is different from not communicating), or engage in self-injury. While some autistic people may not live independently or meet traditional milestones, many do. We exist on a spectrum at different levels of functioning.

And it doesn’t define a person’s worth. These children bring connection, meaning, and value to the world. They deserve dignity, protection, and to be spoken about with respect — not as burdens, but as human beings with inherent worth.

What truly “destroys” or threatens families of autistic children is the lack of support and understanding. Many navigate daily challenges without access to therapies, respite, or appropriate education. Others watch their child struggle. They are stuck on waitlists, unsure where to turn, unable to afford care. These families are being failed by systems that make them fight for every bit of help. This is where our advocacy should be focused.

Andi Putt with her son Kam. Andi Putt

Research matters — but not the kind driven by fear-based or pre-determined narratives. We need studies that explore co-occurring medical conditions and their effective treatments, improve understanding of affirming therapies and mental health supports, and expand access to both.

We need research that builds communication, regulation, and well-being. We need funding for respite, inclusive education, and systems that meet families where they are. It’s not about being anti-science; it’s anti-stigma. And it’s about pushing for meaningful, inclusive progress.

Andi Putt is a disability advocate who has been diagnosed with autism. Andi Putt

My family is fortunate. We have access. We have support. But many don’t. And yet, instead of investing in services, education, or caregiver relief, RFK is spending time and energy trying to prevent autism.

RFK’s fixation on a single environmental “cause” ignores decades of genetic research — including twin studies showing high heritability, and diverts resources away from what actually helps families.

He overlooks well-established facts: The percentage of people with intellectual disabilities in the general population isn’t rising, and adult autism diagnoses are increasing faster than children’s. This indicates that autistic individuals have always been present; we’re just now better at identifying those who were previously missed, especially in marginalized and under-resourced communities. 

Yes, autism prevalence is increasing. It’s currently estimated at 1 in 31 children in the U.S., which is just over 3% of the population. For comparison, the prevalence of other neurodevelopmental conditions like ADHD, communication delays, and learning disabilities ranges from 10–20%. In my opinion, autism diagnoses will continue to rise — not because there are more autistic people, but because many are still fighting for access to evaluations and professionals who understand more than outdated stereotypes.

‘Autism didn’t destroy my family,’ Andi Putt says about her and her son Kam’s diagnosis. Andi Putt

Statements like RFK’s aren’t just wrong — they’re dehumanizing. They give power to ableist narratives that strip autistic people of dignity — and shift blame onto parents. Just yesterday, someone told me I had “damaged” my child, that autistic people are “broken,” and that I had “murdered the child I might have had.” This is the real-world impact of rhetoric like his.

Autism brought me to my career, my advocacy, and my community. It gave me deeper friendships, stronger family bonds, and a clearer understanding of my son. I want a world that makes space for all minds, where people are valued not for their productivity, but simply because they exist.

For too long, autistic people have been ignored, spoken over, dismissed, or told we’re speaking the “wrong way.” RFK is doing this on a national stage. But he needs to know: We are not one story. We are not a tragedy. And we are not going away.

Note: I don’t speak for all autistic people or all parents of autistic children. Every experience is different. But I hope this helps you see another side of the story.

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