Today I finished reading accounts of parents that have kids with autism. I was struck by how often the parents seemed to think their kids' lives were over. Like "that's it, you've got autism" is "that's it, you got cancer" to them. Your normal life is over, no chance at having any normal life anymore, everything is now autism-life. This is perhaps understandable, given how little the average person knows about autism.
I, however, am feeling a little put out. I am not a disease. I'm not something to recoil over, to desperately throw cures at, to pity for existing. Honestly, would you try to cure someone of African heritage of their beautiful darker skin? Their genetics gave them that skin, mine gave me my brain. I don't see the difference. If either kid, African American or autistic, has trouble in school, you try to help them get through it. You take into account their background and try to see how they see. Live in their world a little, to help teach them to live in yours.
I'm about to start a job that includes passing interaction with parents of very young autistic kids. I hope my presence and existence can be some kind of reassurance, and maybe a learning experience. Your kid's life is not over. They can have a future right alongside all these neurotypical people.
As for me... I don't want your pity. I want a fair chance at the world.