LaRita: Finding My Voice

On motherhood, belonging, and making room for dreams that still matter.

By LaRita Smith

“I learned to be practical before I learned to believe in myself.”

Before motherhood, I was a young woman full of dreams, interests, and gifts. At the same time, I often felt like I was surviving more than living.

I dreamed of becoming an actress. I performed in a few college plays, and being onstage made me feel alive. It gave me a chance to express myself and imagine a future where my voice and creativity mattered.

When I shared that dream, a discouraging response from a family member made me question whether my voice and talent were worth investing in. Looking back, I see that as a turning point in how I viewed my own potential. I learned to be practical before I learned to believe in myself.

I was adopted at age three, so questions of belonging and identity were already part of my life. Over time, I have learned that identity is not only about where I began. It is also about what I build, what I survive, what I choose, and how I use my life to help others.

“How do I make sure the people I love are truly seen?”

As a single mother, I carried much of the responsibility for navigating school, services, appointments, and everyday life. Raising an African American son on the autism spectrum added another layer to my advocacy. I wanted people to see Kelvin as a whole person, without reducing him to a diagnosis, making assumptions about him, or overlooking his strengths.

In many ways, raising Kelvin made me confront questions I had carried quietly myself: Who am I? Where do I belong? How do I make sure the people I love are truly seen?

Those questions shaped the mother, advocate, and woman I became.

When people hear that I am the mother of an autistic son, they often assume they know my story. They may see the appointments, school meetings, problem-solving, and strength it took to keep going. But they do not always see the woman behind all of that.

My story is also about finding my voice, rebuilding purpose, and learning that mothers of autistic children deserve to be seen as full human beings with interests, ambitions, and lives of their own.

“The stage looks different now.”

Becoming Kelvin’s mother gave my life deep purpose. Advocating for him eventually helped me reclaim my own voice.

The stage looks different now, through speaking and supporting families, but I am finding my way back to the part of myself that always wanted to be heard. I may not have become an actress in the traditional sense, but I am still learning to step forward and speak my truth.

I am still Kelvin’s mother. I will always be in his corner. I am also a woman with a voice, a calling, expertise, and work that can help other families feel less alone.

Through KLSpeaks Spectrum Voices, I share lived experience, practical education, and honest conversation. I enjoy helping audiences build greater understanding, inclusion, self-advocacy, and hope. These days, I want to find more ways to use both my voice and my creativity.

“R&B, Soul, Pop, Jazz, and Gospel music touches my Soul! I love all of them.”

I also enjoy things that have nothing to do with work.

I love to DJ at Girls Night Out and entertain a crowd aged fifty and over. House parties are the best! I sing gospel music, enjoy casinos, and a good slot game can make my day.

Cruising helps me relax. I love a good concert, especially Diana Ross or Anita Baker, and a movie with talented actors like Viola Davis, Cicely Tyson, Angela Bassett, Meryl Streep, or Denzel Washington. Spoken word, poetry, and plays still draw me in.

That part of me who loves music, performance, and entertaining a room is still here.

“We’re creating a new chapter together.”

Kelvin has always been a joy in my life. When he was younger, so much of my attention went into raising him, advocating for him, and making sure he had what he needed.

Now, our relationship is growing to include more collaboration. We can share our voices and contribute together. We’re creating a new chapter with KLSpeaks.

Outside of work, we enjoy watching a show, going out to eat, traveling, and taking care of our dog, Buddy.

I think we’re both still growing. I’m learning more about who I am beyond motherhood, and I’m getting to know Kelvin in this adult chapter of his life. It asks me to listen, respect his voice, and make room for the person he is becoming.

Adulthood does not mean every need for support disappears. My role is changing, but my love and commitment have not. I’m learning how to support him as an adult and how to listen rather than assume I always know what he needs.

“His accomplishments matter, but they are not what makes him valuable to me.”

Supporting Kelvin toward a PhD, a career, and independence is about listening to what he wants, helping him find the right support, and knowing when to step in and when to step back.

I want him to have opportunities. I also want him to enjoy his life. His accomplishments matter, but they are not what makes him valuable to me.

Kelvin is a whole person with his own voice, ideas, strengths, and things to contribute. I want people to see him.

This chapter asks me to make room for myself, too. For so long, I poured everything into raising Kelvin and advocating for him. Now I have room to ask: What do I want now?

I found purpose in motherhood, but that did not mean my other dreams stopped mattering. I’m learning that I can love the life I lived and still make room for the parts of myself I haven’t fully explored.