A Favor
A Favor was originally published on August 17th, 2021 and is an excerpt from Adventures in Camelot.
As I was walking by Cam’s bedroom this afternoon, I overheard him happily chatting away. I paused to listen to what he was saying because he had been talking non-stop and he sounded different.
As I listened, I realized he was practicing intraverbals or social exchanges. Intraverbals comprise a lot of our day-to-day language, such as words, phrases, sentences, etc., that we use in response to another person’s verbal communication. You know, in basic conversation, when one person makes a comment and another person responds to that comment in kind, and the flow seems both effortless and rewarding?
Well, social communication has always been so challenging for Cam. Over the years, he’s put in a lot of effort to master this through explicit instruction and practicing skills 24/7. Words are simply not his native language.
He’s a man-cub of very few words, and sometimes, although he has a lot to say, a situation can confuse him, and then his anxiety will often silence him.
If you’re in his inner realm of trusted people, sometimes he never stops talking. However, the place that has always been so difficult for him to get a word in edge-wise was school. The setting where our earliest friendships are formed is often his greatest obstacle.
As I listened on the other side of the door, my Mama Bear heart broke a little.
“Oh, hi friend!”
“Are you sure?”
“Oh, I don’t think so.”
“No, thank you.”
“That sounds good.”
“That’s very nice!”
“Would you like to play?”
It was such an intensely bittersweet moment because I realized in that moment that my son has much more self-awareness than I give him credit for. He sees the need to practice these skills. And he knows the role that he should play in the conversation.
However, he is probably growing acutely aware that the response time to respond to a classmate in order to connect with them is so fast. Hesitate, say the wrong thing, or spin your hands in the motion of a piston because you’re nervous, and well, sometimes it’s game over for that connection.
Or worse.
You guys… Puberty is approaching, and this stuff is getting so much harder. I can no longer go into his classes to teach his classmates about autism. He’s too old for that. And I want him to experience autonomy and genuine friendship, no longer facilitated by his mama or his teachers.
This year is different, as many “new kid” challenges lie before us.
Cam has always been surrounded by amazingly cool classmates and kids. I credit this to the fact that he’s had some outstanding teachers who really fostered an inclusive environment in their classes. And honestly, my kid is a rock star. I may be biased, but I think his friendship would be worth his weight in gold.
He’s funny, better yet, he’s silly.
He’s so insanely creative! Clay, painting, drawing… These are his passions.
He’s super knowledgeable about trains, and can actually drive (simulated) the Long Island Railroad thanks to his favorite video game, Train Sim World. He doesn’t, however, drive it at a safe speed or bother to pick up the folks patiently waiting at Jamaica station as he flies by.
He’s really into all things space and knows more about the solar system and NASA than most kids his age.
He loves with his whole heart, and he never asks for anything in return.
OK, maybe that’s not true. His best bud, Riley, back in Texas, would say that Cam had to supervise and direct every aspect of railroad track construction that they engaged in. Riley’s a very generous friend who sees Cam for who he is, and probably one of the first boys his age that accommodates the environment for Cam! Remember the Little Girl at Recess? Rayanna figured out early on that we build friendships through the work put in by both parties, and she’s still very much a part of our lives. Coincidentally, I became good friends with the parents of both, and I can tell you they put great intention into raising exceptional humans.
The social hierarchies of the next few years are an almost impossible puzzle for typically developing children, but they are often a complete enigma for the neurodivergent. My entire being aches as I realize he will struggle, he may be hurt, and he will, inevitably, feel out of place. I so desperately want to shield him from this, but I know I can’t.
This is where the favor comes in…
My request for you is that you take a few moments to have a conversation with the children in your lives about friendship and inclusion.
Remind them that every student in their class and school is worthy of feeling a sense of belonging in that space.
There are no exceptions.
Encourage them to seek friendships with all children, not merely as a nicety or some form of misguided charity, but because they, too, will benefit so much from it.
Remind them of how painful it can feel to be excluded and establish a dialogue that will help them feel comfortable coming to you or a teacher when they see another student being treated unkindly.
If they see someone sitting alone at lunch, suggest that they take the time to make sure they feel included. Get to know them. It takes so very little energy and the impact it may make is invaluable.
Learn, together, about the differences that make us unique, whether it’s a disability, like autism, or any multitude of factors that could be a part of a child’s identity.
I can not protect my son from all the unknowns of this social roller coaster that he’s on, but together we can raise our children to be the compassionate, caring and inclusive friends that every child deserves.
And just maybe, if we do it often enough, it will ripple into Cam’s world.
