My name is Emily Carter, and I am the mother of a nine-year-old boy, James. We live in Raleigh, and for the past two years we’ve been working with Kinfolk ABA. When I think about where James was when we started and where he is now, the word that comes to mind is calmer. Not “cured,” not “fixed,” but calmer and for our family, that has made all the difference.
James is autistic and has ADHD. He doesn’t talk, but he is brilliant in ways that constantly amaze us. He has an incredible memory, notices patterns most of us overlook, and can put together puzzles that leave adults scratching their heads. But when he was younger, daily life was dominated by his anxiety. New people frightened him, routines breaking down overwhelmed him, and he had no safe way to express those feelings. Sometimes he would bang his head on the wall. Other times he would undress or have a deliberate toilet accident. He never looked us in the eye. And at the table, he could barely stay for thirty seconds before running away.
As his mother, I longed for ways to help him feel safe. We reached out to Kinfolk ABA because we needed support, and what they gave us has changed the way we live as a family.
The therapy services have always been rooted in real life, in our home. His compassionate team taught us to use the right effective differential reinforcements to celebrate small steps instead of focusing on what he couldn’t do yet. At first, sitting at the table for just half a minute was a success. Gradually, that grew into two minutes, then four. Today, James can stay with us for six minutes of table activity, still short compared to other children his age, but an incredible achievement for him. Those minutes have opened the door to shared meals, simple learning tasks, and a calmer routine.
Eye contact was another mountain. For years, James never looked at us directly. I used to wonder if he would ever meet my gaze. Through consistent therapy, gentle encouragement, and reinforcement, he began glancing at us for brief moments. Now, when you speak to him, he can look you in the eye. It isn’t long, but it is enough to feel a connection, and for me, those seconds mean the world.
The biggest overall change, though, is his demeanor. James is less anxious. He still stims when he’s excited, and he still has ADHD, which is part of who he is, but he is more at ease. He doesn’t bolt when a new respite worker comes through the door. He pauses, looks to me for reassurance, and then walks forward calmly. He smiles more often. He trusts more easily. Our home feels lighter.
We still face challenges every day. James will always need support. Neither ADHD nor Autism is something that goes away, but now we see progress. We see a boy who can focus longer, connect more deeply, and live with less fear. We see a future that feels more hopeful.
I want other parents to know this: progress is possible. It may not look like what you imagined, and it may not come quickly, but it can come. For us, it looks like six minutes at the table instead of thirty seconds. It looks like eye contact that never existed before. It looks like a child who smiles more and worries less.
Kinfolk ABA gave us the tools to support our son and gave James the space to feel safe. For that, I am endlessly grateful.
If your family is in Raleigh and searching for support, I encourage you to reach out to Kinfolk ABA. Their team understands the small victories that matter most, and they will walk with you through the hard moments and the hopeful ones.
Names and identifying details have been changed to protect privacy.
