Years ago, at the beach one summer, a girl approached my daughter and asked me if she was autistic. Rett syndrome looks very much like autism—in fact, until recently it was classified as part of the autism spectrum. I asked the girl, "Do you know what autism is?" and she said, "Yes, I have an autistic friend in my class." And she wanted to play with Valentina, without a trace of prejudice.
I come from Poland, where my daughter would still be expected to attend a special school, where she could interact only with other disabled children.
Italian schools have chosen to include children with various disabilities in mainstream classrooms. They weren't fully prepared to do it, but thanks to legislation and the goodwill of many people, barriers have been overcome one by one. I had to fight hard—I took my case to administrative court to secure the right number of support hours for my daughter, and I had to keep insisting that Valentina's rights be respected. But it was worth it. Now I'm reaping the rewards of those struggles, and I hope it continues this way for us and for all the other young people in similar situations.
My daughter Valentina is sixteen years old and has Rett syndrome. She has severe psychomotor delay, does not speak, has almost no use of her hands, still walks, and requires constant assistance. Despite all this, Valentina is very aware of her surroundings. She communicates through AAC—augmentative and alternative communication. At first the school didn't know what to do with it, but with support from her therapists and the teachers' willingness to learn, we got past that obstacle. Now the method is well established. She's in her first year of high school and loves going, because she's been welcomed into the school community so well.
Valentina's path through school has gone smoothly, and it's gotten better every year. We've met people who, even when they weren't fully trained, had the interest and desire to do good work. For example, after working with Valentina, her middle school teachers became so enthusiastic they decided to pursue specialized training in special education support.
Valentina is now in the first year of a scientific high school. We chose this track because she prefers theory to lab work. The teachers were skeptical at first, but they've since confirmed it was the right choice. I'm grateful for how the whole class has been involved in different ways of working with her. Disability frightens people when they don't understand it. For her classmates, learning about AAC was important—and fun. I'm also happy because many of her regular teachers actively participate in supporting Valentina.
The school staff welcomed her warmly from the start. But this hasn't always been the case for other students, and I know that many young people have not been as fortunate as my daughter. Schools still have serious gaps for them. But I believe we parents have to keep pushing—to make sure that the rights written on paper are actually honored in daily life.
When Valentina is around other students, she lights up and is genuinely happy. I think she's an enrichment for the rest of her class too. My advice to anyone working with young people who have disabilities is this: never set limits on them. Dare. There will be surprises. Honestly, I never imagined my daughter could do the things I see her do now.
