My brain doesn’t work right, Torre Sumlin told his mother one day after middle school.
He struggled to follow directions and couldn’t explain why. He could rattle off his multiplication tables but struggled to put his thoughts down on paper in English classes.
It wasn’t until Torre, now 17, was at Atlanta’s Therrell High School that he was tested for autism.
Finding out Torre has autism has made all the difference, his mother, Deborah Sumlin said.
“He feels like, ‘It’s okay, I’m not the only one,’” she said.
African American children like Torre are less likely than white students to be identified with an autism-spectrum disorder because of social, financial and other factors — even when they exhibit similar symptoms, several studies have found.
But one Atlanta football coach is working to tip the odds in favor of African American children. Kevin Hill, who coaches the South Atlanta High School Hornets, is working to raise awareness of autism among students’ families and spectators. His son has autism.
“Children with autism living in the inner city often go without adequate services,” Hill said. “It is my hope that this platform can assist those parents in gaining knowledge about the services out there being provided to help their children.”
The South Atlanta football program sponsors an annual Autism Awareness Night—now in its second year. This year, APS staff passed out fliers to spectators at the South Atlanta-Therrell game about autism services and resources. Some attendees wore light blue in recognition of autism awareness, and banners hung from the front stadium entrance and behind the South Atlanta bench.
Torre served as Therrell’s honorary team captain.
Researchers don’t know why exactly fewer African American children—and Hispanic children—are identified as having autism.
"The best explanation for these differences is difference in access to services," said University of Wisconsin-Madison Professor Maureen Durkin.
Some research suggests the gap exists because African American families have less access to the often-expensive diagnostic tests. Other research suggests that socioeconomic class plays a role—that doctors are more likely to diagnose children of better educated, wealthier parents.
Still, “there’s reason to be hopeful,” Durkin said of trends nationally.
Recent data shows autism diagnoses among Hispanic and black children are increasing, though still at rates below children of other races.
Autism advocacy groups nationally and in Georgia have made educating African American and Hispanic parents about the signs of autism and how to get help a priority, said Ray Johnson, executive director of the Autism Society of Georgia.
Early screenings to identify younger children with autism are expanding too, he said.
And last spring Gov. Nathan Deal signed legislation that requires insurers to provide up to $30,000 a year in coverage for children 6 and younger who have been diagnosed. That made Georgia the nation’s 41st state to require insurers to cover some therapy for kids with autism.
Still, waiting lists to get a diagnostic appointment can be long and can mean a drive of several hours for families outside major metro areas, Johnson said. And treatment itself can be expensive.
“There’s a direct correlation between your financial position and your ability to get services and therapy,” Johnson said.
Sumlin, a teacher who considers herself her son’s best advocate, was offended at first when someone suggested Torre was autistic. But as she started to tell family and friends about his diagnosis, she began to hear other stories.
“Everyone came out with ‘I have a cousin with autism, my son is like that,’” she said.
Sumlin said she doesn’t resent the delay in her son’s diagnosis.
Torre is now in an Atlanta Public Schools program for high-functioning students with autism and has found new confidence as his football teammates’ go-to-guy for sports stats.
“They call me smart,” he said.
About the Author
