“Oh my God, Viraj,” his father cried out, overcome by joy, before reading out loud the sentence they were hoping they’d hear that day in March: “On behalf of the admissions committee, it is my pleasure to offer you admission to the MIT class of 2029.”
In the video of the moment shown to the Globe, his father’s excitement was visible, but Viraj Dhanda appeared stoic, almost unresponsive. Inside, however, the teen beamed. The acceptance letter proved wrong every doubt others had about him. Then he smiled.
The Brookline teen is unlike any other MIT applicant. Viraj Dhanda, 19, is a nonspeaking autistic student who spent most of his schooling in classrooms where he was perceived to be intellectually disabled — a gross misdiagnosis that not only delayed his ability to access the support he needed to succeed academically but failed to recognize just how gifted the teen is.
“If you choose to go down the path I took, you will experience heartbreak, prejudice and doubt,” Viraj Dhanda, who communicates through a tablet, typed in an interview with the Globe. “But it will pale in comparison with the joy of being able to have a voice.”

At age 2, Viraj Dhanda was diagnosed with autism. He went through a variety of therapies and interventions, but he couldn’t talk, and the adults around him believed he just had low intellectual ability.
But when he was 10, a baby-sitter suggested an AAC, or Augmentative and Alternative Communication, devices used for those who cannot communicate verbally. His father initially didn’t think he could use one because every evaluation or test Viraj Dhanda had taken suggested he lacked intellectual capacity.
His first device looked like a lunchbox and had four buttons: yes, no, stop, and go.
“It was a huge flop. Viraj wanted to have nothing to do with it,” said Sumit Dhanda.
Then he tried a dynamic device, which allowed Viraj Dhanda to access other commands and had buttons that could be personalized, such as to request his favorite song or television show. The process was slow, but he eventually started pressing buttons to request pizza or to go to the park.
Then, right before his 13th birthday, Viraj Dhanda had a breakthrough while watching a PBS Kids show that appeared on Netflix called “Super Why,” where animated superheroes spell out words.
“The word ‘waterfall’ gets spoken out, and before the superhero really spells out the whole word, Viraj says, A, T, E, R, F, A,” Sumit Dhanda said. “I can’t remember what the next word was because I was so stunned by what was happening. And he does the same thing, speaks out some letters to the extent that he can articulate them ahead of the word being spelled on the screen.”
That was Sumit Dhanda’s “aha” moment, when he realized his son was capable of so much more.
“It was just an astonishing revelation,” he said. “He wasn’t just bright, he was brilliant.”
A year later, Viraj Dhanda started working with letter boards to spell words. Eventually, he transitioned to a traditional keyboard.
The first sentence Viraj Dhanda remembers typing was, “I imagine I can speak.”
“It was so incredible to see all these feelings that he had in his head that he was never able to express,” said Olivia Henning, his former baby-sitter and tutor who worked with Viraj Dhanda while she was a student at Boston University. “He had a really strong spelling, way of writing, and speaking that just came from learning from constantly observing the world around him without being able to actually participate in it.”
The journey to communicate took time. Viraj Dhanda struggles with fine motor skills stemming from a condition called apraxia, which affects the brain’s ability to coordinate movement.
The teen now communicates through a Lenovo tablet with a 10-inch screen and regular keyboard. He types using his right thumb only, producing about eight to 10 words per minute.
As Viraj Dhanda started to communicate using full sentences, his father decided to have him tested again. This time, he scored in the 99th percentile of a neuropsychological test, suggesting he was ready to take college-level math, his father said.

It was only in the past few years that Viraj Dhanda‘s academic skills flourished as he found support from educators at Fusion Academy Newton, a private school that provides one-to-one education to students who struggle in traditional learning environments. He previously attended traditional public schools, but Sumit Dhanda said they didn’t fully accommodate his needs. Educators often wanted the child to focus on functional skills rather than academic ones, his father said.
“At first, I wasn’t necessarily sure if this was a student that we could take on,” said Jessica Pechhold, head of school at Fusion Academy Newton.
After evaluating Viraj Dhanda, the school created a personalized plan for him and matched him with teachers willing to develop lesson plans with rigor above their usual curriculum, Pechhold said.
“I’ve heard from all of his teachers how much he’s able to express himself, and they’re able to see his brilliance, his insights, his perspective, and opinions,” she said. “The challenge really may not be as insurmountable as it appears.”
Viraj Dhanda quickly dove into his fascination with numbers. Calculus became his favorite subject.
“Calculus allows me to apply math to real-world problems like optimizing the dimensions of a rectangular shipping box or a cylindrical can,” he said. “I loved how Fusion immediately embraced my intellect and welcomed me with open arms.”
He nearly aced the ACT college entrance exam, scoring a 35 out of 36.
He graduated high school last Friday in an intimate ceremony where one veteran teacher described him as “both the most disabled and the most accomplished student I’ve ever taught.”
Viraj Dhanda will take a gap year but plans to join MIT in the fall of 2026. The father and son duo will move to Cambridge together.
While the teen is still deciding what to study in college, he sees his future self as an economist, a writer, or a disability advocate.
“There is hope,” the teen said, “despite what the experts may have told you.”
Editor’s note: This story has been updated to clarify PBS Kids produced the show “Super Why.”
Marcela Rodrigues can be reached at marcela.rodrigues@globe.com.