A Spartan’s Will: How Anthony Ianni’s drive inspires my son
By Kyle Guerin
“I’m sorry to tell you but your son most likely will never graduate from high school, may never have a job, and will most likely have to live in assisted living for his adult life.”
These were the words Greg and Jamie Ianni heard from the doctors as they brought in their four-year-old son Anthony for an evaluation back in 1993. They just knew something was off with their child. Things weren’t “normal”. Loud noises at sporting events led to hysterics.
The simplest instruction to “put toys away” led to more toys coming out. And when told to “put on the red shirt” out he would come with the blue shirt or no shirt.
He wasn’t a disobedient child — it just seemed like the instructions weren’t computing, which led them to reach out to the doctor. The first diagnosis was ADD, but the Iannis knew there was more to it than that, so they continued to investigate. Finally Anthony was diagnosed with autism and they got the advice above.
The Iannis were in sports their whole life. They were coaches and administrators, and they were going to work hard on Anthony’s behalf. They had high expectations for their son, and they knew what he could accomplish. Jamie took the year off to help navigate the possibilities. They worked with the school district and the teachers to help develop Anthony’s Individualized Education Plan (IEP), and through trial and error, they found things that worked. And when they worked, they’d stick to the plan.
This partnership between parent and teacher was the key. It wasn’t one or the other’s sole responsibility. Together they found solutions that helped Anthony become successful. And the family still holds an immense amount of gratitude for the teachers that sacrificed so much to invest in their child.
Anthony didn’t realize he was different from some of the other kids until middle school. He was good at sports and that was his saving grace from the cruelty of junior high students. He had a hard time understanding sarcasm or whether kids were joking or not. That led to a lot of tough times, emotional outbursts, and frustration. But his teachers and his paraprofessional who assisted him in class helped him through it. He spent a lot of time in his safe space: the resource room.
Safe spaces would continue to be something that he’d use throughout his life. As Anthony grew older, he continued to struggle in the classroom, but excelled in sports, especially basketball. The basketball court became the place where he found confidence, friendships, and the motivation to work hard in the classroom. His basketball coaches knew he had autism. They didn’t treat him any differently but understood that he learned differently. He needed extra time to watch how a drill was done and how a play was run. It took time, but his coaches and teammates were supportive.
It also didn’t hurt that Anthony was bigger than everybody else. As his skills developed, he gained more attention from coaches and made one of the top Amateur Athletic Union (AAU) programs. He also played at one of the top high schools in Michigan. This love of sports gave him a place, but he still struggled with defeat and controlling his emotions. He’d get upset when he would lose, a struggle he’d had his whole life. The outbursts and tears would come out, but the basketball court remained his safe space. When times got emotionally tough, he’d return to the basketball court to clear his head.
After high school, Anthony played college basketball at Grand Valley State for two years. But through hard work and pure fight, he reached his dream and transferred to Michigan State. He became a Division 1 basketball player who happened to have autism.
The basketball chapter would end, but it opened so many doors. Anthony became a motivational speaker who helps students understand other kids with autism and put an end to bullying. He also wrote “Centered: Autism, Basketball, and one Athlete's Dream” to share his story with the world.
That book would change me forever.
I too was a Michigan State Spartan and a huge basketball fan. I didn’t know Anthony personally, but I was a big fan and watched every game.
My son Wade was diagnosed at 6. We thought he was just hardheaded, strong willed, disobedient — all the other things we as parents label our kids. Even after the diagnosis, we still struggled to help support our son. How did his brain work? How could I help him? I truly didn’t understand him and that broke my heart. I was desperate for anything to help me connect. My son and I both love basketball. And here was the first Division 1 college basketball player with autism from Michigan State. I immediately bought the book and read it from cover to cover. It was as if I’d finally seen the light and I began to understand my son like never before.
Anthony and I got connected on Facebook and I was able to share with him how much his book meant to me and my family. Anthony became a hero for my son, an example of what was possible for kids with autism.
My family met Anthony on a trip to Michigan. Wade had trouble making eye contact because he was shy, but Anthony poured into him and gave him great advice. After that, Wade joined his first club team and chose the same jersey number his hero Anthony wore: 44.
My son is working hard in school because his teachers believe in him and he wants to be a voice for the autism community. He tells friends and classmates he can accomplish anything and having autism is nothing to be ashamed of.
I’m thankful that things are different now than in 1993. Kids are nicer, more accepting, and supportive. Parents have more resources. And although being a parent of a child with autism isn’t always easy, it’s always worth it.
Anthony continues to speak at schools and autism conferences and has even shared the stage with legendary advocate Dr. Temple Grandin. He’s working on his next book geared toward helping coaches better teach and coach kids like himself and Wade. He’s graduated high school, graduated college, written a book, spoken across the country, and inspired thousands. I can’t wait to see what he does next. He certainly has demonstrated a Spartans Will to never give up and never stop fighting, just like all those parents out there that continue to do the same.
The Author:
Kyle Guerin serves as Director of Corporate Social Responsibility (CSR) for Henry Schein. His responsibilities include helping to advance Henry Schein’s health equity programs and initiatives to “help health happen” and supporting Henry Schein in its vision and commitment as a purpose-driven company to deliver on economic and social value. Kyle has spent nearly 20 years in health care geared toward serving others and advancing access to care for individuals with special health care needs, partnering with Special Olympics, the Pacific Dental Services Foundation, and Project Accessible Oral Health. He and his wife Melissa have two sons, Wade and Trey.