Dear Parents of “Typical” Kids,
I could easily have been seen as an overprotective parent with my eldest son, diagnosed with Asperger’s at the age of three. As he entered middle school eight years ago, I took it upon myself to coordinate with families in our neighborhood, hoping to arrange for the kids to walk or bike to school together. While I noticed that many parents weren’t taking similar initiatives, my son was often unaware of social dynamics and felt anxious about reaching out to others for plans.
“Could the boys ride to school together?” I asked a fellow parent. “I’m not sure what they’ve decided,” she replied. “Maybe we could try it for a few days?” I suggested. “I’ll ask,” she said. After three days of attempts, it became clear that my son would have to navigate the journey alone. He simply couldn’t keep up with their pace.
Fast forward to today, my youngest son is now starting middle school and is capable of making his own arrangements with friends. I no longer find myself contemplating which of his classmates might need additional support. I don’t hold any resentment towards the parents or kids from eight years ago; they were not unkind for wanting to maintain their own pace. However, it would have meant the world if they had considered how to accommodate everyone involved.
Navigating different social needs can be challenging. I found myself more engaged than most parents, trying to ensure my son felt included. I was the one reaching out weeks before school started to inquire about other kids’ after-school plans, offering to host gatherings, and creating a welcoming environment filled with fun activities and ice cream. This level of involvement can sometimes confuse or overwhelm other parents who may not understand why I was so proactive.
Please know that when I reach out, it’s not an attempt to micromanage my child’s social interactions. Years ago, I was teaching my son how to engage with peers since he wasn’t yet able to do it independently. While other kids seemed to navigate social situations with ease, mine still required guidance to understand the complexities of middle school friendships.
I understand that it is not your responsibility to look out for my child, but I ask you to consider how it might feel if your child were in a similar situation. A small gesture from another parent or child could be the difference between inclusion and isolation. Here are some ways you can help:
- Ask Both the Parent and Child What They Need: I remember a family that wanted to include my son in a birthday party held in a loud venue. They kindly asked both of us how they could make it comfortable for him to join, leaving us feeling appreciated and valued.
- Be Open to Trying Something New: Sometimes parents hesitate to make commitments. You might suggest a trial period to see how things work out for everyone involved.
- Empower Kids to Build Community: Encourage children to decide how they want to include others. While creating an inclusive environment is essential, allowing them to choose their level of involvement can foster a sense of ownership.
- Assume Positive Intent: If my actions seem perplexing, please understand that there’s often a valid reason behind my anxiety. Children on the autism spectrum may struggle with transitions. For each major change, I engaged my son in various activities to help him prepare, which may seem excessive but was crucial for his adjustment.
In closing, I encourage you to consider the collective impact we can make in creating a more inclusive community. For more insights into building connections, you might find this article on fertility and home insemination helpful. It’s a fantastic resource, just like the information found here about making communities more inclusive.
Thank you for your understanding and support.