A Hunger Games salute

The three finger salute. Used in the movies and books in the Hunger Games series, it is a unique and meaningful gesture. For those not hip to the world of Katniss & Peeta, it is done by touching three middle fingers to your lips and then reaching them up and out in the direction of someone. It is done in The Hunger Games as a means of admiration, thanks and good-bye to someone you love. Many have since appropriated the gesture to represent a form of unique kinship. However, I believe no other group lays a more well-founded claim to its usage than special needs parents.

We are among the most reclusive humans on the planet, guarding our “underground bunker”, so we don’t often see each other in person. We rarely connect well with others outside our “district”. We also often look and feel like we’ve been through acid smoke, consumed nightlock berries and felt spears and arrows whiz by regularly. That is why, when we do venture out into our “Panem” and discover someone else weary from the weight of our district, it gives us an immediate affinity for them, unlike anything we can feel for anyone else.

Last weekend we attended Comic-Con in Roanoke, VA. While walking up and down the aisles of fantasy and super-hero alike we were surprised to discover a real-life super hero named Karen. She is the parent of a son with autism. As we quickly discovered, the parallels between her son and ours were strikingly similar. As the parents of a son who typically falls at the very extreme end of the autism spectrum, this is a very rare occurrence. She was manning a booth that sold custom-made stickers, wreaths and dog leashes, among other creative items. Her website www.cuddleupforacause.com is well worth a visit.

As a special needs parent, we often keep our head down, keep our eye on the crisis of the moment and don’t often feel we have time to look up enough to build community with others in our “district”. When we do though it fills our souls to know that we are not alone in this struggle. When we have children as severe as ours, our process of “reaping” is never-ending. Knowing that others are also facing this struggle, allows us to let down our guard and laugh at the absurdity of it all. For a moment, we are not alone. Someone else understands. We can do this. We will survive.

“Since the last game I see something different.”

“What can you see?”

“Hope.”