Characters:
Rachel Morrow, 42, licensed clinical social worker in private practice
Jenna Radley, 47, mother of 11 yr-old Lincoln who has autism
(Jenna is one of Rachel’s regular therapy clients.
They have been meeting for 1.5 years once per week.)
Setting/Props:
Rachel’s office, present day.
Two comfortable chairs center-stage and a small table in front of chairs with a plant, a box of tissues, and
a water pitcher with cups. A bookcase is in the background behind the chairs.
Both characters need cellphones with working flashlights.
Jenna needs an umbrella and a light rain jacket. Rachel needs a notebook.
Curtain opens/Lights up
(Rachel sitting in the one of the chairs, stage right, reviewing notes)
(Jenna enters 30-40 seconds later, shaking out her umbrella and brushing off her windbreaker. )
JENNA
Wow, that is some storm! Hi, Rachel.
(Rachel stands and crosses to greet her)
RACHEL
Hi, Jenna! Thanks for making it in! Hope the traffic wasn’t too bad.
JENNA
No, not really. I’m actually glad it’s raining. We really need it.
RACHEL
Yes, true. (They walk over to the chairs and sit. Jenna places her umbrella under her chair and hangs her jacket over the back of the chair) (Pause) Take a moment to settle in.
JENNA
(sighs)
Thanks!
RACHEL
Where would you like to start today?
JENNA
Well, let’s see.
(glances upward in thought and then leans slightly forward)
Lincoln is quite happy with the weather today. You know how he likes lightning—well, light of all kinds.
(laughs softly)
RACHEL
(nods)
Yes, I sure do. Light is one his passions.
JENNA
(laughs)
Yes, he has been fascinated by it for several years—particularly with his flashlights and host of light-up toys.
RACHEL
Yes, right. I know he has quite a collection of flashlights.
JENNA
(laughs)
For sure! We’re running out of space at home for his collection.
RACHEL
Speaking of home, how have things been this past week?
JENNA
Well, pretty calm for the most part, fortunately. As long as we stick to his daily routine, he’s okay. That’s key.
(brief pause)
I just wish
(sighs)
that we could have a basic conversation…
RACHEL
What would you want to ask him?
JENNA
Wow,
(sighs)
everything and anything, I guess…Like “How was your day?” “What did you learn in science class?” “What made you laugh?” I know he listens and absorbs everything. Just ordinary back and forth about anything, really.
RACHEL
I’m sure there’s so much he’d have to share. Lincoln is such an intelligent and curious kid! What is is it like for you not to be able to have these kinds of conversations?
JENNA
Well, it’s just so tough because I want so much to know what he’s thinking and feeling and not have to piece everything together with so few clues. I feel like a blind-folded detective in a foreign land much of the time! There are many hard challenges on this autism journey, and not being able to communicate with words is one of the hardest things.
RACHEL
What feelings are coming up for you?
JENNA
Frustration definitely—sadness and grief, too. Sometimes, I’m just going about my day, and I hear kids talking with each other in the neighborhood or see parents walking and talking with their kids when they come to meet the bus in the afternoons. I feel jealous and a deep sense of longing. I want Lincoln to have friends to share things with, you know? I want to know what is going on in his heart and mind.
(sighs, looks down at her lap)
What I wouldn’t give to have the most basic, ordinary conversation.
(becomes emotional, and gets a tissue, dabbing her eyes).
I feel cheated out of what should be a basic part of parenthood.
RACHEL
(Pause, leans forward to Jenna)
I hear the longing and grief in your words. I imagine it is so, so difficult not to have what most others take for granted.
JENNA
Yes, it is. And it’s impossible to comprehend if you don’t live this every day.
RACHEL
Yeah, of course. That makes total sense. It’s great that you are acknowledging the reality of your experience. I am here to hold space for the totality of you.
JENNA
I so appreciate having this safe space!
(sighs and sits back in her chair)
As I’ve said many times before, being an autism mom is this constant shifting between joy and grief—sometimes all in the same instant. I never fully understood how joy and grief co-exist so intimately together in everyday life until I became the parent of a child with special needs. I mean, I tried to be sensitive and kind to others with special needs when I was growing up, but I could, of course, never fully grasp what life was like for them or for their parents or other caregivers.
RACHEL
Now the rubber hits the road everyday.
JENNA
Yes! It’s hard seeing other people—other kids going along in life doing things and having all kinds of experiences while I feel like Lincoln and I are left behind. I mean, I want others to do their thing, but I feel like life just goes on, and we don’t move at anywhere near the same pace.
RACHEL
Sure, your journey looks so vastly different from that of many parents.
JENNA
Yes, that’s for sure. There is a lot of grief, but there is also so much joy, too!
RACHEL
Tell me more about the joy. Over the last year, I’ve seen how your face lights up when you talk about Lincoln and what he’s up to.
JENNA
Yeah, I can’t help smiling. He’s my heart.
(laughs)
In his 5th grade social studies class, they are learning about national landmarks. A worksheet came home in his backpack about the Statue of Liberty. I wasn’t sure how much he understood. But when he came home from school, he ran to the closet and dug out my decades-old bluish-green Statue of Liberty crown…You know, the cheap foam ones with the points on it?
RACHEL
(laughs)
Sure, that’s a classic souvenir.
JENNA
Yep, I forgot I even had it. Anyway, he grabbed the crown, put it on his head, and then ran to get one of his biggest flashlights. He turned it on and then runs over to me, standing tall and proud, saying “Shine, shine, shine!” It was so cute. (laughs) I said, “Yes, buddy, shine your light like Lady Liberty!”
RACHEL
That’s so neat! It sounds like he really connected with the material.
JENNA
He showed me in his own unique way.
(laughs)
I should have known that the Statue of Liberty would make a lasting impression on him because, she is, of course, holding a torch, which is like the most awesome flashlight to him!
RACHEL
True!
JENNA
He also brought home a copy of Emma Lazarus’ poem that’s mounted inside the Statue of Liberty’s pedestal on a bronze plaque added in 1903. You know, the one that says, “Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free.”
RACHEL
Right, sure. I didn’t realize it’s a whole poem.
JENNA
Me, either. It’s really meaningful. It’s called The New Colossus.
(Jenna stands and moves around to the back of the chair as if performing for Rachel.)
It goes like this:
Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land; Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
“Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!” cries she With silent lips. “Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”
(Jenna walks to the front of her chair and sits down slowly, contemplatively.)
RACHEL
Wow, that’s so powerful.
JENNA
I know. It seems especially poignant for this day and age. The line, “whose flame is the imprisoned lightning” really resonated with me. It reminded me of Lincoln and his love of light. But, the overall themes in the poem really touched me, too. Like Lady Liberty shining her light to guide those who have lost their way, who are struggling—those who are in the midst of whatever storms life is throwing at them.
RACHEL
I love that imagery!
JENNA
It’s like our country’s purpose is to welcome especially those who would be overlooked and counted out..not the most successful or the influential or those with means. I mean, I wish this sense of welcome would truly be extended to all—especially to those with disabilities and their loved ones. People can be so ignorant or even cruel when we’re out in public, and Lincoln starts shouting or pacing. I get it that we can be a lot for others to deal with and understand. I just wish there was more space for grace and less judgment.
RACHEL
I’m sure it’s incredibly challenging to navigate public places with Lincoln because there’s already so much you’re dealing with and trying to manage without factoring in other people.
JENNA
Yes, very difficult on so many fronts. It’s impossible to describe fully, but it’s not all doom and gloom, of course.
RACHEL
Sure, say more.
JENNA
We also see kindness and gentleness—a smile, a simple “hello,” a patient nod, a question about what would be helpful. These moments are so powerful and meaningful even though they’re very brief. They’re kind of like lightning—unexpected, sometimes sudden, very illuminating. That reminds me of one of the great gifts of life with autism: The littlest things are deeply treasured and appreciated…a kind word from a stranger, a new word spoken by Lincoln, an outing with him that is calm and ordinary, his hugs, which can be quite suffocating actually (laughs). Watching him play with flashlights—who knew an ordinary object could bring so much joy to a kid!
RACHEL
Yes, that’s true! You notice and appreciate so many things that others take for granted or that don’t even register for them as they go through the frenzy of life.
JENNA
Yes, the micro joys—the split seconds, fleeting moments, the most mundane things.They exist because of Lincoln’s life and presence. Every day is full of little gifts which are always there. These are the treasures I cling to especially when the grief and the exhaustion feel all-consuming.
RACHEL
It sounds like an intricate dance between joy and grief.
JENNA
Yes.
(nods)
It can be exhausting—like a ping pong match between the mind and soul mixed with a boomerang. The losses and the gains are so deeply intertwined.
Like, for instance with his social studies class, I wish I could talk with him about what he’s learning and help him with a project. Yet, he showed me in his uniquely wonderful way what he learned, and that brings me so much joy. Words aren’t required for joy to abound.
RACHEL
Wow, yes. Joy comes in all forms. What a gift to recognize that! That’s something to celebrate for sure.
JENNA
Thanks. Yes, I agree.
(Sound of thunder-both are startled. Lights flicker.)
RACHEL
Well, that storm is still going strong.
(Lights go out.)
JENNA
(laughs)
Sure is.
(pulls her cell phone out of her pocket and turns on the flashlight. She holds it up like a torch.)
Shine, shine!
RACHEL
Shine!
[Curtain]
Jodi Smith, originally hails from Reading, PA but has lived in the DC area since 2001. She is a lifelong theater enthusiast and last performed in a virtual production in February 2021 of The Diner Plays, a collection of humorous shorts from local playwrights connected with The Ritz Theater Company in Haddon Township, NJ. This one-act marks Jodi‘s debut as a playwright, and she is thrilled to have the opportunity to share it. She is a social worker with Fairfax County, VA Government’s Department of Family Services’ Volunteer Solutions program and a mother to a son with autism on whom the play is based.
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