Accompanying My Son through the Airport – May 3, 2022

 

Photo courtesy:  UpgradedPoints.com

I’d LOVE for the TSA and airlines to be more aware of and willing to accommodate adult passengers who are high-functioning, neurodiverse individuals, yet they still require a friend or family member to accompany them through the airport.

I am grateful to God for knowing exactly what we required and placing the right people and things in our pathway when we needed them.

 

Yesterday, I accompanied my eldest son, an 18-yr old Senior in HS, to the airport. He will remain nameless here. Please respect his privacy if you know him.

 

This was his first time flying out solo. His Dad planned to meet him on the other end in New Orleans for a training and pre-graduation vacation opportunity. My son specifically requested my help and support to get through the airport, or he refused to go.

 

I was happy to support him, so I contacted the TSA and called Delta (his airline) a week prior to his leaving to request a Guest Gate Pass. The forms they had online did not fit our situation. 

 

As many of you know, both of my sons are diagnosed on the Autism Spectrum: formerly Asperger's. They appear developmentally “normal” but have neuro-atypical behaviors associated with different formative brain development. These symptoms can show up as misunderstanding social cues, miscommunication, sensory overload, resistance to change, angry outbursts, panic attacks, melt-downs, and more. Stress that neurotypical individuals handle easily and well compiles quickly and can quickly and “unexplainedly” overwhelm neuroatypical persons.

 

There’s a lot than can and has been done for our sons. I’m not going into that here.

 

What most people don’t realize is that this particular son also has issues with Social Anxiety Disorder, a mistrust of people and their motives.

 

So, his stress with something new like a solo flight is compounded.

 

In practice, it’s difficult not to pick up his load of angst for a mile or four (possibly, literally the distance we walked from the entrance to his gate in the terminal). I’ve learned that such a response doesn’t do any good, because he’s simultaneously hanging on. So, we’d both be carrying the overwhelm and stress. 

 

I was congratulating myself that I didn’t do that yesterday. 

 

My job was to be the calm that assisted my son from home to the plane. And, I was actually able to remain calm and relatively at peace through the entire process. That is, until it came to texting his father. But, that’s getting ahead of myself and is really another story that includes my ongoing healing from betrayal trauma.

 

Back to our story.

 

The TSA emails sent me to Delta. Delta told me to chat with an agent in the Special Services line at the airport to pick up the Guest Gate Pass at the gate. 

 

We had to get there first. 

 

I downloaded directions to the airport, so he, or whoever was driving, could complete the hour and forty-five minute trip there without worrying about navigation. 

 

The chaos began.

 

My son had left his laundry in the dryer over the weekend. It stunk. He didn’t have time to rewash it. He asked if I would.

 

Could he do it himself? No. Then, it’s okay for me to say, “Yes.” -- a practice that has saved me from doing things my sons can and ought to do for themselves.

 

I rewashed his clothes and discovered that the dryer vent hadn’t been cleaned out. I cleaned it, and the clothes dried in plenty of time.

 

We picked him up from school after first hour and completed last-minute packing and checks. We included food, in case we couldn’t stop for lunch.

 

Grammy (it was her vehicle, and she accompanied us) forgot her insurance card. She called twice from the parking lot during the final packing to say she was going to go home and search for it. Instead, she called her agent, he okay-ed my son to drive, and we headed out. Grammy was calm in the front passenger seat and complimented him on his driving.

 

As we navigated the exits in Salt Lake City, we discovered that the Google directions were wrong. Fortunately, they got us close enough that we figured it out. My son drove us there without incident and with plenty of time to spare, though not enough to go somewhere else for lunch.

 

All of those were stressors were manageable, so far.

 

We checked him in at an electronic kiosk, received his gate pass, and found the Delta desk just fine.

The woman at the service desk initially hesitated to give me a pass. Neither TSA nor Delta, from my previous contact with them, had left any notes on my contact and my son’s situation. I had to explain to her, in my son’s hearing, why I required the pass before she agreed to issue it “just this once.” She asked if we wanted a notice placed on his ticketed account. My son declined.

 

He hated having a stranger know that he has Asperger’s and Social Anxiety Disorder. His self-esteem and any confidence he was feeling, immediately tanked. He began a destructive cycle of “What do people think of me?” “Now, everyone knows!” “Why can’t I just get over this (Asperger’s & SAD)” kind of thoughts. Fortunately, he shared them aloud with me privately. We discussed them, before they turned into very public, socially unacceptable behaviors. 

 

My son’s driving is improving by leaps and bounds, but he’s still working on little details that will allow him to take the driver’s exam and receive his Utah Driver’s License. So, for ID, he brought his Utah Learner’s Permit and his school ID. We found out quickly that TSA doesn’t accept paper forms of state-issued ID and his school ID counted for nothing.

 

We had to be escorted through a special security section with some extra steps, including a pat-down. Not a great experience for my son. 

 

Meanwhile, Grammy was tired, hungry, and impatient with the woman who was just trying to do her job. Fortunately, she was a pleasant TSA attendant, and Grammy calmed down.

 

After we finally arrived at the gate, we realized we had plenty of time to wait, but not enough time to go to a nearby airport restaurant for lunch. 

 

We sat with my son, as group after group were allowed to enter the plane. 

 

We chatted about last-minute details, safety issues, having a good time, and contacting his father on the other end.

 

Then, my son let loose with a lot of bottled up fear and frustration. He texted a message to his dad with some prime swear words about his experience. He told me that “Dad had better meet me at the gate!”

 

We realized that if his dad were to successfully do that, it might require allowing the designation that the woman at the Delta service desk had offered. I agreed to go back to the desk on the way out and ask what could be done to smooth the way for his dad to meet him at the gate on the other end.

 

I’m proud of my son for advocating for himself: recognizing that he needed something and asking for help to receive it.

 

I’m grateful to TSA and Delta for assisting us yesterday with our requirements. Thank you, understanding and remarkable individuals! 

 

Nevertheless, I hope the TSA, Delta, and other airlines recognize the aforementioned and other requirements of neurodiverse adult populations and provide options for familiar assistants (aka family or friends) to more easily receive passes, so they may continue to aid these individuals through the airport.

 

Thank you, Grammy, for staying the night and not going back home, so we could leave on time. Thanks also for allowing my son to drive. Please, don’t mention his name if you leave a comment. When I discovered that something had gone through and wiped out the savings in my account, thank you for paying for parking, a late lunch, and gas on the way back home -- things I was planning to cover for your time and the use of your vehicle.