This guest post is by Noah Ezekiel, a high school senior from southern New Jersey who will study journalism with a concentration in sports media at Central Connecticut State University. Noah is the highest-ranking cadet in his school’s Air Force JROTC program, captain of the boys’ varsity tennis team, and a sports-podcast contributor who dreams of becoming an ESPN commentator and analyst. Noah is applying for the Spring 2026 Making a Difference Autism Scholarship through KFM Making a Difference, the nonprofit founded by Kerry Magro. Kerry was nonspeaking until age 2.5 and was diagnosed with autism at 4.
Autistics on Autism: The Next Chapter shares stories from more than 100 autistic adults about what helped them while growing up and pursuing their dreams. All proceeds support KFM Making a Difference initiatives, including this scholarship program. To invite Kerry to speak at your school, company, or organization, submit an inquiry here.
By Noah Ezekiel
Being on the autism spectrum sucks! Or so I once thought.
Hi, my name is Noah Zachary Ezekiel. I am autistic, and over time I have learned to appreciate everything God created me to be. For much of my early adolescence, I thought I was failing because social situations caused me so much anxiety. Reading social cues, understanding the mood in a room, and making eye contact during conversations were just a few areas in which I struggled.
That anxiety made me withdraw. I was afraid to raise my hand in class, and at recess I was content to stand along the fence because I was too nervous to ask the kids playing basketball, “Can I jump in?” I lived with a constant feeling of loneliness and isolation.
Then I had a heartfelt conversation with my mom. She pointed out all the gifts I had to offer the world. She told me my brain simply processed information in a unique way, and she described the areas in which I was flourishing. I began to feel encouraged as she named my ability to memorize information, recall sports statistics, understand mathematics, and remember details from years ago. These things had come easily to me from a young age, yet I had not recognized them as strengths. That was when the tide started to change.
All that time, I had thought I was failing socially, but I possessed so many gifts in other areas. I began calling my experience “failing forward.” So what if I was not the most confident socialite? I could learn social skills. With therapeutic support, practice, and the courage to keep entering social situations, I slowly learned how to swim instead of sink in the intimidating social arena called high school—and life.
I was determined to keep putting myself out there, even when doing so felt as uncomfortable as being an Eagles fan in a Dallas Cowboys stadium.
I failed many times. I was not always the smoothest conversation starter, and I did not always catch the mood in the room. Still, I kept trying, putting one foot in front of the other. I learned to appreciate each baby step of progress. When I received an awkward side-eye from a peer, I treated it as information about how I might participate more effectively next time.
As I failed forward, I grew more confident and made more friends. The nerves calmed, the sweaty palms faded, and my eye contact became stronger.
My social confidence and stamina grew so much that I am now the highest-ranking cadet in my Air Force JROTC group. By a unanimous vote of our supervising sergeant and the previous year’s leaders, I was chosen as Group Commander. In that position, I am responsible for more than 50 cadets and the leadership board. Cadets come to me for guidance, advice, and encouragement—responsibilities I never could have imagined taking on without the social growth I worked so hard to achieve, along with a tiny touch of autism.
I am still growing and stretching myself, but I have learned that I can do difficult things. Failing is not a final sentence. It can be an opportunity to learn, adjust, and grow.
I aspire to become a sports analyst or broadcaster for ESPN, using my voice and knowledge to inform, engage, and inspire audiences. I am prepared to pay my dues by working in smaller media markets and learning the profession step by step. I am inspired by the careers of Shams Charania and Stephen A. Smith, and I hope that one day it will be me behind the microphone.
As a journalist, I want my work to show that autistic people can meet high standards in the workplace while being competent, professional, and social. I will tell the story of how I struggled socially but learned, through support and practice, to command a microphone and deliver sports updates with confidence. I also hope to bring thoughtful attention to social anxiety and autism—subjects that news coverage does not always explore or portray accurately.
This scholarship would help me attend a university with an impressive broadcasting facility and strong connections to professional sports outlets. With hard work and determination, my dream of becoming an ESPN contributor is within reach. The scholarship would support my academic journey and bring me one step closer to turning my passion for sports into a lifelong career.
Kerry Magro, a professional speaker and best-selling author who is also autistic, founded KFM Making a Difference in 2011 to help autistic students receive scholarship support for post-secondary education. Help us continue this work by making a tax-deductible donation here.
You can also invite Kerry to speak at your next event by submitting an inquiry here. Kerry speaks with schools, businesses, government agencies, colleges, nonprofits, parent groups, and conferences on autism, employment, college success, mental health, inclusion, and bullying prevention.
