Parenting can be tough…any kind of parenting. We worry about their safety, their development, their…well, everything. When I look at Katie I worry, but I know that it’s the same worry that every loving mom or dad feels for their kiddo.
But for those of us with special needs kids, sometimes some moments can be especially hard. The other day while walking Brooke to school, we fell in behind a couple of girls in her grade. They were chatting away about this and that. One turned to ask why I was wearing shorts while it was snowing and so cold. I laughed. Meanwhile Brooke was running through a few of her morning scripts. The girls went back to their conversation and Brooke continued with he scripts.
That’s when it really hit me (for like the millionth time) just how big the gap between Brooke and her classmates is and, even harder to take, the fact that there was no exchange whatsoever between these two girls and my daughter…not a “hey”, not a “hi”, not even a nod of acknowledgement. One of the girls had had a few play dates with Brooke over the years, and is one of the nicer, sweeter kids in her grade, but on that day there was nothing. It wasn’t intentional or mean-spirited; it wasn’t an active blindness, but it was a blindness nonetheless. It was as if she and her friend didn’t see Brooke at all.
Brooke herself didn’t seem to notice or care; she simply pushed on with her morning scripts. I, on the other hand, was devastated.
With Middle School looming not so far away, and then High School and beyond, I am having a harder and harder time imagining what Brooke’s adult life will be like. I used to be able to see it. It was as clear as HD TV in my mind; but with each passing year, month, week, day…the picture loses a little focus and what I see in my mind becomes a little more foggy, a little more murky, a little more unclear.
I did find some hope this past weekend. I was lucky enough to be invited to a dinner of young autistic adults. Some were more talkative than others. I chatted with several people on varying topics. Most importantly though, Brooke seemed comfortable with the people there. They all acknowledged her presence – they all saw her (and she saw them).
So as cloudy and as murky as my images of the future may be, it is comforting to know that out there in the real world are autistic people who support each other, cheer for each other, but most importantly, see each other. As long as I know that Brooke will have that when she grows up, I can live with the picture in my head being a bit out of focus.
Run Luau Run 
You guys are heading into a tough transition… and transitions are hard. All I can think, and hope, for your girl is that the older she gets the more she will be able to seek and choose and form the circles she wants to be part of. There will be more kids at middle school, which brings more kindred spirits.
Just this morning, my autistic son called out on the playground to an older non-verbal autistic boy who was alone with his aide “Hey Raffi! Hi Raffi!! Hi !!” Raffi turned around and looked at my son. My son smiled, the other boy went back to his walking. My son said “That’s Raffi mom. Sometimes I play with him at Sensory room”.
They see each other. They form circles. Warm, comfortable, accepting, inclusive circles. Your girl will widen hers.
(But more importantly… why WERE you in shorts?? 😉 )
Oh you made me cry with this one! There are times when the pictures I have for my boys are more blurry than others. (Both are Autistic) I can only hope for mine and yours that they will surround themselves with people who see them, and value them exactly as they are.
“They see each other”. There is comfort for me in that. Brooke had a sense of belonging and comfort there.
Love you,
Mom
What I keep telling myself this that this kind of scenario is a possibility for ANY kid whether autistic or not. I remember going through the same thing as a kid and while it did hurt me, I was more comfortable in my own little blanket and practiced to avoid getting any attention and to blend in. I’m not saying that it’s a good thing, but for that time, it shielded me.
Like you, I worry about my eight year old son’s social life, present and future. It kills me to see his peers avoiding him while he tries to reach out in his own way. I live in an urban area and after school there is no time for anything other than school as we are already on an extended day. I tell myself that this could be a learning opportunity. He is constantly being rejected by a classmate and right now our aide and us at home are trying to get him to ease up on trying to make friends with this girl. He gets upset and it sets the tone for his whole day…. Anyway, I’ve seen Brooke’s progress from reading your blog and your wife’s blog. She is doing great. She has so much potential yet uncovered… You will see, she will be a success… it just takes time.
As an adult Aspie who didn’t have many friends growing up (and a lot of those who were in my group of “friends” tolerated me more than actually befriended me), I have quite a number of friends. Around ten, which is more than enough for me to try and keep up with socially.
I have recently made a couple of new friends (no easy feat for a spectrumer) – the parents of a boy in my girl’s class at school… both parents are on the spectrum. Even as an adult, we tend to get along better with our own kind, so to speak. It’s wonderful visiting them at their house – I’m always made to feel welcome, but we all have our various technologies to play on while we chat (iPad, phone, DS, laptop, etc).. takes all the stress out of socialising. There’s a lot of lulls in the conversation, but where most people would see it as uncomfortable we see it as perfect. It’s very relaxing!
Brooke will never be alone – she has a whole community of aspies and auties that will naturally see to that.
Thank you Jen. This is very comforting.
Thanks for sharing, Jen. What a great idea! While the world is trying to get people to put their gadgets away and interact, here is a case where the “gadgets” are really helping to do just that! My son loves electronic games, etc. of various kinds and it’s nice to think that he might be able to use them in this way when he gets older (he’s only just about 7 now). 🙂
My daughter is still young but sometimes this does come to thought. It’s a scary thought. Been in that same situation where kids don’t notice her. That’s tough to swallow. We tried the public school route which didn’t work. Instead went with a special needs school which seems to working out good. I feel better knowing that they are helping with the communication skills with others. Like you I hope when she gets older she develops a sense of herself enough to live comfortably.
[…] read another’s blog post today. It can be found here. What I got from it was that it was about her fears for her Autistic daughter’s future after […]