As the father and husband in a special needs family, I’m hopeful. My mood doesn’t always reflect my hope as much as it should, but in the grand scheme of our everyday experiences, I remain hopeful that my children will have meaningful lives now and into their adolescence and adulthood.
I definitely fit the profile of a dad who spends a fair amount of time thinking about how his kids are perceived by their peers and other authority figures in their lives. That comes up in a number of ways with Nile and Avery. For example, this was the general exchange between Nile (daughter) and me after a school field trip: Me: Hey, Ni. How was your field trip today? Nile: It was cold, but it was good. We collected fossil samples. Me: That’s cool. How many did you collect? Nile: Two. Me: (after a pause) You guys were out there for a pretty long time. How many were you supposed to collect? Nile: I don’t think there was a specific number. Me: How many samples did other students collect? Nile: Most people collected like 4 or 5. Some collected more. Me: So…you had the SMALLEST number of fossils in the class? *probably the wrong message being communicated with my last question* Now, consider my special needs guy in the context of peers and instructors while participating in his karate class while I watch on the periphery. His instructor (who happens to be a man) is guiding the class pretty efficiently and Avery’s meeting the expectations well. He’s following directions, his forms look good, and he’s showing P & E (pride and enthusiasm). All is well…in my world. A female instructor then moves to the front of class and is given permission to lead a segment. Because Avery, at the time, had not had ANY female karate instructors, I imagine he had a tough time making sense of what was happening. Autism can do that to kids sometimes. For Avery, once he adjusts to a routine it can be REALLY difficult to introduce something new without preparing him for the pending change. And, here was an unexpected transition, with no explanation or context. Like clockwork, MY KID has a great response, loud enough for the entire class to hear. Avery: Hey! Girls can’t lead karate class! *Jesus be a fence. We’re about to get kicked out!* Thankfully, the instructors were gracious, as were other parents and older students who didn’t take offense to what Avery just communicated about gender role stereotypes. In fact, they did more laughing than I would have expected. I was concerned that we may not get asked to come back after that. Again, I found myself overly concerned about how people perceived my kid and our being stigmatized as a result of that perception. Even with my own challenges of thinking too much about my kids in the context of others, I’m thankful that I can remain hopeful and pray that other parents of special needs kids can become and remain hopeful, too. My kids have unique gifts, abilities, and perspectives. And as a result, I am assured they have something great to contribute not just to my life, but to the lives of folks around them in school, at the playground, in our church, in our community, and everywhere else they go. I was reminded to be hopeful this week after seeing a segment on ESPN’s Sportscenter. It’s the story of a teenager with autism who is a die-hard Rutgers football fan. The video reminded me that it was his unique gifts, abilities, and perspectives that provided him in incomparable opportunity within his community which now can be celebrated worldwide. It’s my hope that you remain hopeful after seeing this amazing video about Anthony Starego. Check out, “Kick of Hope” by clicking on the following link: http://espn.go.com/blog/bigeast/post/_/id/39662/video-kick-of-hope Peace, -mike
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AuthorI'm Mike. If you have an interest in mental health, family functioning, and disability advocacy, this blog may be of interest to you. Archives
January 2016
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