"I AM VERY FRIENDLY"

Vocational Rehabilitation is a federal-state program that helps people with differences/disabilities overcome barriers to employment, gain work skills, find jobs, and build careers.

Our local Voc Rehab office recently started a program called “Linking Learning to Careers,” which works with differently abled high schoolers to develop job skills and connect school work with work-work.

When G was filling out his application, he had to answer some questions about his skills and future plans. 

One question was “What strengths do you bring to school, work, and your future career?”  

G wrote, “I am very friendly.” 

Figure I — “I am very friendly.”

My heart sank a little. “Honey, that’s not…” — I looked at his little [huge baby man] face — “Never mind.” 

I almost began to spiral on that one, but I didn’t say anything. I want him to feel confident and value his own strengths, even if they might be seen as somewhat irrelevant by his mom — or completely useless by a future employer.

G and I had been participating in fundraising efforts for a school trip he wants to go on; and I’d been working on a calendar raffle handout that the kids could use to sell tickets. The day after G completed the Linking Learning to Careers application, I finished the calendar handout and students began to sell raffle tickets. 

That very day, G went out and sold all of his raffle tickets within an hour.

In the end, he exponentially outsold every other student in the group.

Figure II — Friendliness + Initiative = Success

Here’s how he explained it to me: “Mom, I’m on the spectrum, so I don’t know when to stop. I just keep asking!”

A few days later, G and the other runners received their participation awards at the end-of-season track banquet. The coach spoke a bit about each student. When it came to G, he said, “When we go to meets, [G] knows more people than the entire team combined.” 

There you go, I thought, there are those skills of friendliness he brings to school, work, and his future career…

G really, really wanted to go on that trip — and he made it happen. Heck, he wanted friends — and now he is friendly with hundreds of people. 

Sure, there are things I wish he would make an effort with that he doesn’t yet grasp the importance of, but when it really came down to it, G’s motivation and initiative helped him use his skill of friendliness to be truly successful. 

I hope that will continue to be true as he builds independence.

Our children (and selves!) with differences have amazing, sometimes-hidden or non-obvious gifts. These gifts become operationalizable — and that’s just sociologist-talk for making dreams come true — when fueled by real needs and wants.

This experience showed me we can all achieve success if both the success itself and the means of achieving it are meaningful to us and allow us to implement our unique skills. 

That might sound kind of basic, but it was a revelation to me. 

And it’s changed the questions I’m asking G as he moves out into the world. 

Instead of trying to ask questions that instill a “realistic” worldview and attitude — such as “Do you realize people how many hours you would have to work to buy those Magic the Gathering cards?” —  I’m wondering:

What are you passionate about? 

What do you truly want? 

What do you need for health and happiness? 

What unique skills do you bring to the table? 

AND

How can you connect all of these to live your best life? 

But honestly? I think G was way ahead of me on this. I was basing my approach on fear; while he bases his on hope. 

Love, 

Full Spectrum Mama

 Welcome to Voices of Special Needs Blog Hop -- a monthly gathering of posts from special needs bloggers hosted by The Sensory Spectrum and The Mommy Evolution. Click on the links below to read stories from other bloggers about having a special needs kiddo -- from Sensory Processing Disorder to ADHD, from Autism to Dyslexia! Want to join in on next month's Voices of Special Needs Hop? Click here!

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A WINTER PRAYER

Hate cannot drive out hate, only love can do that. 

Martin Luther King Jr. (from Strength to Love)

Dear Persons,

It’s easy to grow bitter. Sure, if you have a child with special needs, losing faith in this world is often tempting; but in this divisive political climate being human is an indicator for general angst. So yeah, we need help. Here is my Winter Prayer to the Universe, the One Song we all share: 

Dear Universe,

As the days grow colder and shorter,  may the extra darkness offer rich soil for growth. May the falling temperatures allow us to, um, appreciate the warmth betterer? 

May there be less wintry mix precipitation and black ice and more coziness and sparkle. 

How about no black ice.

May those entrusted with our children (Betsy DeVos, I'm talking to you!!!! [Oops, did I write that out loud?]) actually have their best interests at heart. 

Likewise, may those entrusted with our only home, Mother Earth, do the same, dear Universe. 

May we - in the waking hours we can muster this season - find the strength, energy, and time to be there for each other, and to find the resources we need to advocate for and nurture our differently-abled children, selves, family, and loved ones. 

May we learn to ask for help when we need it. 

Before we judge, may we consider the possibility of unseen struggles, mental health issues, “invisible disabilities”…

May we learn not to take things personally, even as we refuse to countenance injustice. 

Can those “All Lives Matter” people make a Black friend, please? 

Might we send a contingent of willing trans persons as ambassadors of queerhumanness to all places showing evidence of small-mindedness around gender? 

Let’s get some drag queens in there, too. They could bring cupcakes from Scott Cakes! And warm coats!

Please sprinkle in some other people with differences that differ from the “norm” in these places (in whatever ways: religion, ethnicity, citizenship status, ability, sexual orientation…), bearing, perhaps, free kids’ books about diversity and inclusion, in order for peoples’ definitions of people to expand. 

Actually, can we have all of these individuals bring their families — whether of origin and/or orientation — as part of their delegations? Can we? And then partner each family with a local family, have them plan and cook a meal together,  and give them a discussion agenda that includes favorite funny movies, animal heroism stories, and, I dunno, high and low life moments? 

Thanks! Because it seems to me that when people see people as PEOPLE it becomes nigh impossible to hate. 

And, just a thought, can we get some people on the spectrum on this whole tax reform thing? Because some of us are pretty good with numbers and our “literal,” “black and white thinking” around, you know, the math aspect might be a strength for the future of U.S. civilization in this particular context. Do you want to know whether a particular change to the tax code will benefit the economically disadvantaged or the middle class? We can actually tell you. 

Come to think of it, may there be progress, however incremental, in people being fairly paid.

Also? The men in charge right now…could they be immersed in a crash course in menstruation, harassment, gender discrimination, childbirth, and motherhood? Also also, working and single motherhood? Thanks. REALLY - thanks. 

Bonus: In fighting injustice and working to empower others, may we never degrade or forget the humanity of all concerned. (That’s a hard one sometimes - healthy anger fuels change while destructive, vengeful rage destroys lives.)

See, because either we are engaging or we are withering. Bitter. And you know what? Bitter people are often cruel. I know this all too well too.

May we hold our loved ones close, knowing that life can be all too fleeting. May we make every day count, even the *&^$ ones. 

Dear Universe, we all cry the same salt tears. May we also have the mental and emotional space to see the beauty, joy, courage, and kindness that coexist with the hard stuff. 

May we retain our hope and faith. May we regain our hope and faith. 

May we find strength through love. 

Love,

Full Spectrum Mama

P.S. What are your prayers, dear reader? Feel free to share them in the comments below, or email me at jineffable@gmail.com.

Welcome to Voices of Special Needs Blog Hop -- a monthly gathering of posts from special needs bloggers hosted by The Sensory Spectrum and The Jenny Evolution. Click on the links below to read stories from other bloggers about having a special needs kiddo -- from Sensory Processing Disorder to ADHD, from Autism to Dyslexia! Want to join in on next month's Voices of Special Needs Hop? Click here!

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HOPE

Dear Persons,

Last week, I took my daughter Z on a mother-daughter trip to Emily Dickinson’s home. Since Pardner is a chef, we have lots and lots of time together, but are almost always with her brother, G. The outing — happily anticipated by me —  involved a lot of side eye and bored resignation on Z’s part. Parsing which aspects of her attitude belong to rote teen sullenness, which are characterological, and which are attachment disordered is pretty much impossible, so I will just say that she was not terribly impressed. (She was “sort of ok” with the parts of our “adventure” that involved food…)

We were able to have this delightful alone time because, this spring, G got into a federal college prep program for underprivileged and/or underrepresented teens that provides several residential weeks of classes and other enrichment in the summer. 

I sobbed for days when G got accepted into this program. It’s not that I’ve never had allies. There have been lots of angels along our path (and some less-helpful people as well, to put it mildly…), especially certain teachers and helpers in his schools. But this program is comprehensive, and year-round, and it explicitly aims to get kids into college who might not otherwise go. 

I’ve always seen G — with his amazing ideas and creativity and interesting, interested mind —  as someone who’d have a wonderful, inspiring time in college; but I’ve also known it would be a huge stretch, given his learning differences and our income. I’ve been sad about that pretty much since G’s diagnoses.

For the first time, I felt like  a group of people who could really HELP G also really GOT and SAW him. After so many years struggling to get school staff to follow his IEP, or see him as more than just a label, these people were going to spend hours and days and weeks working with G and other teens to build the exact skills needed to get into and attend college!

The program was also going to help…well…ME. This enterprise of advocating for a child with learning and social and physical differences and challenges can be all-consuming. There have been many, many times when I have felt like other people were talking about a different kid when discussing G — and that they basically had never even met the child I knew…

Knowing that this program was going to help me did two major things: it allowed me to finally admit how much I NEEDED that help, and it gave me HOPE. 

Seriously, dear readers, it was a revelation to me how lonely and afraid  I’d felt in this endeavor — so much so that I couldn’t even acknowledge those feelings until there was something to alleviate them. I mention this because you may be in the same boat and I hope you, too, can find that thing or those things that uplift you and yours.  

In the weeks leading up to his first departure, I was increasingly worried as G failed (as always) to brush his teeth unless supervised or shower unless coerced, evinced literally no executive function whatsoever, and had an end-of-semester 9th grade experience in which both his grades and behavior (at home and school) could have been more than a scootch better.

In his first week at the program, self-regulation issues got the better of him. I was barraged with emails with innocuous yet terrifying headlines like “Update,” and “Checking in.” My Meeting Friend — having endured such periods of uncertainty and fear herself when her child was on tenuous ground in various programs — helped me survive. She gave me hope. 

Together, G and I and the staff of the program came up with strategies (including having no phone whatsoever) to assist G to fully participate. We gave me hope. He’s in the third week of the program and so far says it’s “fun” (his highest compliment). 

And Z? She’s doing her own camp, where she can be surrounded by other sour teens. I am pretty sure she’s having “fun” too!

Figure I - “Lego Construction Representing Unity and Difference” (when G saw I was working on this blog post he made this for me, saying, “Everybody expects Lego stuff to be square and this is not - it’s different. And the black and white together represent unity.”)

(Figure II - “The Usual Square Lego Form”)

It’s a little bit of a vulnerable thing, to allow oneself to hope. There have so far been ups and downs, but I’ll take it. 

I shall leave you with this poem, by a woman many people speculate may have been on the autism spectrum — and who certainly was both extremely “different” and successful in her own ways. 

         “Hope” is the thing with feathers 

         By Emily Dickinson

“Hope” is the thing with feathers -

That perches in the soul -

And sings the tune without the words -

And never stops - at all -

And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -

And sore must be the storm -

That could abash the little Bird

That kept so many warm -

I’ve heard it in the chillest land -

And on the strangest Sea -

Yet - never - in Extremity,

It asked a crumb - of me.

Love,

Full Spectrum Mama

Welcome to Voices of Special Needs Blog Hop -- a monthly gathering of posts from special needs bloggers hosted by The Sensory Spectrum and The Jenny Evolution. Click on the links below to read stories from other bloggers about having a special needs kiddo -- from Sensory Processing Disorder to ADHD, from Autism to Dyslexia! Want to join in on next month's Voices of Special Needs Hop? Click here!

An InLinkz Link-up