By Nicky Black

Since my career brought me back to Salisbury, I’ve shared a lot about my professional journey and my commitment to the organizations I volunteer with — but I’ve rarely opened up about something that’s been central to my life: I have an autistic son.

I never even said it out loud, but deep down, I knew when Caden was two. His formal diagnosis came at four. When it was time to choose a school, we took a leap of faith on a brand-new charter school, Faith Academy Charter School. It was close to home, and we had loved our experience at Faith Elementary when my daughter attended. My mom often praised the school’s leadership, and I reassured myself that if it didn’t work out, we could always fall back on our assigned public school. What I didn’t know then was that leap would become one of the greatest blessings of our lives.

Kindergarten was tough. Caden was often overwhelmed and would lash out. There were times I truly wondered if he could remain in a mainstream classroom. But the staff and administration never gave up on him or us. They worked with us to figure out what he needed, and by the time he entered first grade, he had an IEP and a growing toolbox for success.

That first grade year brought another blessing: a teacher who also had an autistic son. She created a safe space for Caden, tailored her approach to his needs and helped him feel that school was a place of support. Even so, we finished the year facing some big challenges. Caden hated being read to, wouldn’t try reading on his own, and couldn’t hold a pencil. His fine motor skills were behind, more like a three-year-old’s than a six-year-old’s.

Then came second grade. His teacher? An over 6-foot-tall, retired law enforcement officer. Something far outside my own school experience, where I could count male teachers on one hand. I was worried. But once again, Faith Academy proved me wrong. That teacher turned out to be one of the most impactful people in Caden’s life. When Caden had to transition to a new school building over fall break, I panicked. Change is hard for him. But he handled it beautifully, thanks to a community that rallied to make it smooth for every student. 

By the end of second grade, Caden could hold a pencil and even color for the first time. But the biggest breakthrough? He fell in love with reading. His teacher made it fun, made it a family affair, and those Magic Tree House adventures became a turning point.

Third grade brought new challenges — standardized testing — every special needs parent’s worry. On open house night, I walked in with that anxiety heavy on my heart. But the moment I saw his new teacher with a Pokémon sticker on his laptop, I knew Caden would be OK. There were other changes too: our beloved administrator moved on, and our trusted EC teacher left. I was nervous walking into our first IEP meeting of the year, but I walked out knowing, once again, Faith Academy had placed another amazing advocate in Caden’s corner. 

That doesn’t mean we don’t still have hard days. Just yesterday, it was pouring rain, and Caden, still scared from a previous storm, was terrified to leave the house. We were 30 minutes late, and it took another 20 just to get him out of the car. But we were met by a smiling face at the door, and as always, after checking in, he skipped to class like nothing had happened. No one would have guessed the tears shed just moments before. 

This week, we received an email reminding us to check our child’s bookbag for EOG results and information about retakes for those who did not score proficient. Instinctively, I began reminding myself that this test doesn’t define his worth or future success. I started bracing for the conversation I would need to have with Caden, fully expecting to read that he hadn’t passed.

But he did. 

He passed reading.

My child, who just two years ago would become violent if I dared to read to his younger brother, passed his first-ever EOG. I never expected it. For four years, I made peace with the idea that being below grade level might always be part of our autism journey in a mainstream classroom. 

But once again, I was reminded of something powerful. 

Have a little faith. 

Nicky Black is a proud Rowan County native and devoted mother of three.