I’m calling G because we are at a big, kid-filled birthday
party and the dj is playing “Gangnam Style,” which he loves. He calls his
version of the song and dance “Gengar Style,” after a naughty, levitating
Shadow Type Pokemon called Gengar.* He’s way out on the playground with some
kids he doesn’t know and, between calls to him to come boogie with me, I hear
those loud “eeeeeh” noises that he makes sometimes because he likes them -- and
other times because he’s socially overwhelmed. I hurry over and he’s progressed
to shouting unintelligible sounds and making faces in the general direction of
a play structure. Some younger kids are cowering and glowering nearby.
“What happened?” I ask, pulling him away as fast as I can.
“A girl threatened me.”
“How?”
“She told me she was going to beat me up!”
“That little girl with the sour face, who is much, much
smaller than you?”
“Yes.” (G tends not to pay attention to his own size or age
relative to others.)
I sigh, hug him. “She couldn’t, honey.”
“But she said she had beat up a 15 year old!”
“But baby, that’s not true. She’s a little girl.”
We pause. He’s probably taking in the fact that here again
someone has lied and he has been unaware of that possibility.
“Well…Why?” I continue.
“Why what?”
“Why do you think that happened?”
Another pause.
“Because she said I was ‘in her face?’”
“Were you?”
“Yes.”
“Were you trying to threaten her?”
“No!”
The playground is a place where family and friends who know
G in his home or social comfort zone often suddenly realize the extent of his
social challenges. Putting his
face right in someone else’s face is one way he tries to connect, because he
really does want to connect - so very
much! He’s still figuring out other ways to do so, and in the meantime doesn’t
seem to have integrated extensive advice against face-in-face.
I try to seize the teachable moment: “How do you think she
felt when you got in her personal space, you know, ‘in her face’?”
“Mad?”
“I don’t think so…try again.”
“I don’t think so…try again.”
“Angry?”
“Try again. Angry and mad are pretty much the same.”
“Threatened?”
“Yes. So I bet that’s why she threatened you, don’tcha
think?”
He nods.
“And G, did you notice all those kids were much younger than
you?”
"Not really.”
"Not really.”
“They probably thought you were being a bully, G. Which of
course you weren’t.”
G is the most gentle person I know, but he’s a really big
dude with no idea of his own size or the impression it might give.
I sigh. Again. “Oh sweety, I know you’d never want to scare
anyone. But you have to try to think about whether other kids are bigger or
smaller than you and what they might think you mean in your actions and words,
okay? Do you think you can remember this next time?”
“I don’t know,” G says, shrugging.
By the time we reach the party shed, the song has ended. G
goes in and sits back in a corner alone, looking perplexed. Eventually, some
extra cupcake frosting comforts and cheers him up.
Sometimes G is served well by his unique neurology. His
omnipresent honesty, truly original creativity, staunch reliability, deep
loyalty and lack of regard for conventional measures of success or “coolness”
are just a few traits that come to mind in this regard. I know he takes
satisfaction in living by what he deems right and good. Those of us who “get”
him celebrate his living by his own lights as well. Nevertheless, even these
arguably superb qualities are not necessarily ones that lead to mainstream
social acceptance!
Of course there’s neurologically-rooted stuff to work on
too, like developing the tools to navigate playground dynamics, many of which
are analogous to adult social milieus. It just sometimes seems the neurotypical
world currently remains more inclined to marginalize both G’s particular gifts and his challenges than to celebrate or accommodate
them.
Suppose G – because, as things stand, it’ll be on him to do
so - takes a very long time to adapt here, what is the adult equivalent of
frosting?
Oh yeah. Frosting. **
Love,
Full Spectrum Mama
* OMG I Just found this site:
http://bulbapedia.bulbagarden.net/wiki/Gengar_(Pok%C3%A9mon).
Please, nobody show G – I will never see him again!
** We have a hunch that Pumpkin Pie may work, too and are
going to find out next week! Happy Thanksgiving everybody!!!!
