Autism is something that affects millions of families around the world, yet the way it’s understood, diagnosed, and supported varies greatly from country to country. Today, I want to share a conversation I had with my friend Jiaxin, a mother of a young boy with autism, about her experiences navigating China’s medical and education systems.
Her story sheds light on the challenges, the misconceptions, and the progress being made for children with autism in China.
If you are interested in the video version of the interview, please see below.
How Jiaxin Discovered Her Son’s Autism
A few years ago, Jiaxin’s son, T, was diagnosed with autism. But the road to that diagnosis wasn’t straightforward.
“When he was around three years old, he still couldn’t form complete sentences,” Jiaxin told me. “At first, I wasn’t too worried because my mom kept saying that ‘great men often speak late.’”
This is a common belief in China—that some kids, especially boys, are just late bloomers when it comes to speech. But things changed when a teacher at T’s nursery school suggested Jiaxin take him for a check-up.
“I started searching online—why can’t a three-year-old talk? And one word kept popping up: autism.”
Interestingly, my own son Jason had a similar experience. He had a tough time developing his language skills, and his grandparents also reassured me that he’d “grow into it.” This belief, passed down through generations, often delays diagnosis and early intervention.
The Struggles of Getting an Autism Diagnosis in China
In many countries, getting an autism diagnosis can be a long and frustrating process, and China is no different.
Jiaxin first tried a public hospital but quickly realized that appointments were backed up for months. She couldn’t wait that long, so she went to a private hospital instead.
“The private hospital gave me a diagnosis in just one day,” she said. “But honestly, I didn’t feel safe there.”
I was surprised. “Why not?”
“When I arrived, they immediately separated me from my son. He was taken to another room for evaluation while I had to wait outside. I had no idea what was happening in there. It was terrifying.”
That wasn’t the only issue. Jiaxin also felt that the private hospital was more like a business than a healthcare provider.
“They were very commercial, almost like they were selling me a product,” she explained. “I felt like they had a sales target to hit.”
Because of this, she decided to go back to the public hospital for a second opinion.
“The experience was much better. They followed a structured process—first, a questionnaire about my son’s behavior, then an observation session where the doctor watched how he played and communicated. Most importantly, I was allowed to stay in the room with him. I felt much safer and respected.”
Her experience highlights a key difference between private and public hospitals in China: while private hospitals may offer faster service, public hospitals tend to provide a more thorough and professional evaluation.
Government Support for Autism in China
One of the biggest challenges for families of autistic children is accessing the right support. Jiaxin explained that in China, the government does offer financial aid, but parents have to actively seek it out.
“No one contacts you to tell you what help is available. You have to find the information yourself,” she said.
At first, she didn’t even know about government subsidies.
“I only started looking into it when I realized how expensive therapy was. That’s when I learned that if you register for a disability card, you can apply for financial aid.”
The amount varies, but Jiaxin receives around ¥10,000 ($1,400 USD) per year from the government. However, therapy costs between ¥20,000-¥30,000 ($2,800-$4,200 USD) annually, meaning she still has to cover at least half of the expenses herself.
Beyond financial aid, community support is also available. “There are WeChat groups and local community programs that connect parents and provide shared resources,” she said. “But again, you have to take the initiative to find them.”
Education: How Public Schools in China Handle Autism
One of Jiaxin’s biggest concerns was whether public schools would accept her son.
“I was afraid they would reject him,” she admitted.
But in China, public schools legally cannot refuse children with autism. So T was enrolled without any issues.
At first, the transition was tough.
“He was terrified of the new environment,” Jiaxin said. “To help him adjust, I told him stories about school—how he would make friends, how teachers were there to help him.”
One of the biggest challenges autistic children face in school is social interaction.
“T has trouble understanding social cues,” she explained. “So in school, they use a ‘blended education’ approach. Three times a week, he goes to a special room for therapy training.”
This is actually a great system—it allows T to receive extra support while still being part of a regular classroom. And best of all? It’s free.
“This was a surprise to me,” I said. “When I was in Canada, similar programs were only available once a week, sometimes even less.”
But even with extra support, Jiaxin knows that expectations need to be adjusted.
“As parents, we have to lower our expectations,” she said. “The goal isn’t to push our kids to fit into a traditional system but to create an environment where they can thrive.”
Final Thoughts: The Importance of Support and Positivity
Before we ended our conversation, I asked Jiaxin if she had any advice for other parents.
She smiled and said, “First, don’t try to ‘fix’ your child. Instead, focus on creating a positive, happy environment for them.”
She explained that pressuring autistic children to conform can actually harm their emotional well-being.
“Instead of trying to change them, we should create a world that understands and accepts them.”
She also emphasized the importance of recognizing strengths.
“T loves to draw, and instead of treating it as a quirk, I see it as a talent,” she said. “We need to focus on what they’re good at, not what they struggle with.”
As someone with ADHD, I resonated with this deeply. Growing up, school was incredibly difficult for me. But I know now that neurodivergent minds are wired differently—not worse, just different.
If we, as a society, can shift our perspective, we can create an environment where kids like T—and like Jason—can succeed on their own terms.
At the end of the day, raising a neurodivergent child is challenging, but Jiaxin’s story proves that with patience, research, and the right support, they can live happy and fulfilling lives.
And as parents, our job isn’t to mold them into something they’re not. It’s to help them become the best version of who they already are.