Some of you may know that I have been interviewing African-American dads of kids with various forms of autism for my dissertation. The experience has been moving, to say the least. Today’s blog is inspired by an interview I conducted just yesterday with the father of a child who is dually diagnosed with a form of autism and another developmental disability.
Unlike some of the other dads in the study, I know this guy pretty well. I met him as a college student and he was an elite athlete then and maintains a very active lifestyle now. His athletic and competitive “wiring” spills over into his life as a partner to his wife and father to his three children. In our interview yesterday, he really caught my attention at one point because he made a broad criticism of parents and adults who acknowledge kids for EVERYTHING. We laughed when he made statements like: “Everybody shouldn’t get a trophy!” Or, “That kid is NOT a winner!” The wild thing was the way he balanced that perspective when he talked about raising a child with a disability. He admitted to not knowing the extent to which he could fight, advocate, achieve goals, and push himself until he became a dad of a child with a developmental disability. And let me remind you, this brother played at the professional level of his sport for some time before entering the corporate world. An elite athlete…better than average student…academic and athletic accomplishments most of us would dream of…and he’s not worked this hard, or had this much pride in his identity, until he began this experience as a dad. He talked extensively about celebrating the small victories for his kids, and especially for the one who has the disabilities. What do those victories look and sound like for us? A word. A smile. A look. A sign. We had our own (small) victory this week. LaChan and I heard Nile yelling at Avery in frustration and we called her downstairs to figure out what was happening. She was mad at him. Now, Nile is what some would call a “tweenager”. She’s 10 and is clearly…pubescent. So, now, more than ever, she desires alone time and not wanting to be bothered. (I guess that’s what happens when girls start wearing bras and stuff…but whatever!) This day was different and she wanted to play with Avery. Well, Avery was being especially “autistic” on this day…Well, what I mean is that he really wasn’t interested in playing with his sister and was more content to spend time by himself, in his own world. He had his Avenger toys and was cool doing his own thing. But Nile wanted something different in that moment. She wanted to engage with him. She wanted him to want to play with her. So, when she came downstairs to explain, she was beating around the bush and talking as if Avery was doing something wrong. “He’s being mean and ignoring me! I mean, I’ve called him for like 10 minutes and he won’t even answer!” LaChan keenly notices what’s going on and just asks her, sensitively: “So you’re upset because he’s not playing with you?” *silence, as her eyes start to water* “Yes. He never ignores me like this. And, I don’t usually get to play with him a lot because of school and stuff, so...yeah. I want him to play with me.” Where’s the victory in my one kid’s symptoms being a little more prevalent on this day versus some others? Where's the victory when the other kid's feelings are hurt because of challenges associated with his diagnosis? The victory was in Nile being able to pinpoint how she was feeling, why she was feeling it Game. Set. Match…(for now) Happy holidays to you and yours! -mike
2 Comments
Tyeisha
1/30/2013 05:09:42 am
Well Prof.,
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Michael Hannon
1/31/2013 07:53:28 am
Thanks for your comment Tyeisha. I'm glad you found some material of interest in the blog and look forward to any feedback or reactions you would share if you visit again.
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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
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