What began as a straightforward story of a young Englishwoman studying in Israel turned into a lifelong odyssey for Abigail Fidler.
It all started in 1993, when she participated in a pre-aliyah program on Kibbutz Ein Hanatziv. Though she returned to England at the end of the program, by 1995 she packed up and headed back to the kibbutz. There, she married a fellow kibbutznik, had five children, now ranging in age from 13 to 24, and has made the kibbutz her home.
But little did she know that her firstborn child, Asaf, who is autistic and nonverbal, would reshape her life and turn her into a passionate advocate for nonverbal individuals.
Until last year, she had been under the impression that Asaf had a limited understanding of the world. “I thought his cognitive abilities were like those of a toddler,” says Fidler, now a single mother. “Then he began communicating through typing, and everything changed.
“Before our first real conversation, I spent a long time thinking about what to ask him. I finally typed: ‘What would you like me to know?’ Letter by letter, he pointed and spelled out: ‘I’m smart in my head.’ That moment shattered everything I thought I knew.
“For 23 years, I believed my son was locked away in a world I thought I could never reach – but he had understood everything all along. He had thoughts, feelings, and a rich inner world that were just waiting to be heard.”
From that moment, Fidler became an advocate for presuming competence – “to believe that even if someone can’t speak, it doesn’t mean he or she has nothing to say.”
She says that when Asaf moved into a hostel at age 21, she wanted to support families of children with special needs, especially autism, but didn’t know how. When her son began typing, the answer became clear. She felt a deep responsibility to advocate for other nonspeaking individuals to be seen, heard, and understood – and help others learn to presume competence from the very beginning.
Though for the past 26 years she has worked at Palziv, a kibbutz-based multinational foam manufacturer, and is currently its chief knowledge officer. Fidler is now also studying to become a therapist specializing in communication through typing.
She has also become a public speaker, giving two lectures on “Love without Words,” which tells the story of raising a nonverbal child; and “A Voice from the Silence,” which delves into the transformative impact of the profound lessons she has learned since Asaf began communicating.
Raising a nonverbal child in this Beit She’an Valley kibbutz led Fidler to notice and appreciate the small moments in life.
“He taught me to slow down and truly be present. That presence brought with it a new passion: photography,” she says. “I love waking up early, walking with my dogs in the fields, watching the sunrise, and capturing that beauty with my camera. It fuels me with the strength to take on whatever the day throws my way.”
DESPITE DAILY challenges, Fidler remains grounded in gratitude and positivity. She describes herself as “naturally optimistic” and “definitely a mama bear.”
The kibbutz community has echoed that spirit.
“Ein Hanatziv has always looked out for us,” she says. “When Asaf was six and went missing one Friday night, nearly the entire kibbutz went searching. They found him at the gate and brought him home safely,” she recounts.
And every Shabbat when Asaf was growing up, two kibbutzniks would come and take him for a walk, giving the rest of his family a few hours to rest and spend time together. “That support was invaluable,” Fidler asserts.
Even during the family’s most difficult times, the kibbutzniks would say: “We’re here for you. Whatever you need, just ask.”
Fidler says, “I don’t usually ask for help, but I realized there were things I couldn’t handle alone. Without them, I wouldn’t have been able to raise Asaf at home – and definitely not five kids.”
Her employer, too, has shown unwavering support whenever she has needed time off to take care of her children.To families considering making aliyah with a special-needs child, Fidler offers reassurance: “It’s definitely doable. There are government services, community supports, and parent networks to help navigate the journey.”
Fidler’s nuclear family has joined her in Israel: Her parents made aliyah eight years ago, and one of her two brothers lives in Jerusalem.
Future plans
Looking to the future, Fidler says her “big dream” is to raise funds to establish a residential village for Asaf and other nonverbal individuals.
“Asaf is in a great day program, but I want to make sure that when I’m no longer here to take care of him, he has a real home – a place where he’s understood, supported, and free,” she explains.
She envisions a village “where nonverbal individuals can communicate through typing, live with dignity, and participate in therapeutic activities such as horseback riding. I dream of creating a day center where they can choose what they would like to study and which activities they want to include in their daily schedule.
“The nonverbal world is very different from ours; it is unfair to expect them to fit into our patterns,” Fidler says.Meanwhile, she continues to spread her message: Presume competence.
“I want to change the world’s perception of nonverbal individuals. People need to understand that not speaking doesn’t mean not thinking. Behind the silence, there is intelligence, depth, and emotion.”
Through her blog, lectures, and photography, Fidler hopes to amplify this message across communities, professions, and institutions. “It’s not just about Asaf. It’s about so many others whose voices are yet to be heard.”■
Abigail Fidler’s blog can be found at www.abigailfidler.com.
