One Seed

Two days ago I drove up to Indianapolis from Saint Louis. When a person drives on this route in late September, the fields to the left and right are vibrant with vegetation, but in mid April they were barren fields simply full of potential. What a difference a little (or a lot) of work will make and that got me thinking.

I've talked so much about the potential a person on the autism spectrum can have. However, it probably isn't just going to happen, and it needs to work very much like the land out here. If it weren't for the decades, maybe even a century's worth of work of the land whether in Illinois or anywhere there's a field, there's a good chance, well, a 100% chance that the land would not be hospitable for much of anything. It's taken irrigation, proper ranching, and a constant eye to make sure the land and livestock are right.

So why am I going on a talk about ranching and land? Potential. Someone, at some point in time, saw potential out here and now this community has a sustainable agriculture economy and if the agriculture goes away this town very well may go away. How does this relate to anything? It all goes back to potential.

The school year is nearing the final days and much like the field I saw, there are many, many people full of potential. I think back to my teachers I had that saw thew potential and planted amazing seeds. It's fitting I'm working at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway today because my second-grade teacher, on one of the last days of school, opened my eyes to the world by simply asking me, "Aaron, where is Silverstone?" That one question opened my eyes to travel, the world, and laid the framework for me chasing my dreams.

I've been ending my presentation for years saying, "we live in a society where everyone wants everything to be perfect right now. When it comes to autism we can't look at it that way and rather we need to look at it like planting seeds; you've got to give it time to grow." That being so teachers have a great chance to plant the seeds to instill that potential that could be hidden underneath. 

Not being a farmer or rancher, I won't really know what I'm seeing through the growing season because some fields will be filled with cattle and grasslands perfect for food, then others will be crops that I can't name, and then there will be some fields that are seemingly empty. What's there? What's going on? From my vantage point it's empty, worthless land, but to the right farmer or rancher they may see the hidden potential in the land. That's the difference between knowing and not knowing and I can only hope that in this upcoming school year more and more teachers master the art of seeing potential because what may seem like an empty field may someday turn into the most beautiful of creations that all started with the planting of just one seed. For the teachers out there that are exhausted, try and remember this. You may plant the most amazing seeds and never see the harvest in return. My teachers will never know the heights I have reached or that the race I talked about every single day at recess, the Indianapolis 500, is now an event I've worked from the flag stand. It can be exhausting, stressful, and demoralizing at times but I can assure you that you are making a difference, and that you may never know the beauty that comes from your work, but I can attest I thank my teachers every single day. Thank you!