Today is Schuyler's last day of third grade, and barring any last-minute drama (and why would I ever assume there wouldn't be any of that?), she will have made it through her last week without incident. She's not out of the woods yet, exactly; she starts with her summer school program next week for some additional reading help, but that's only for a few weeks, on another campus with a whole new group of kids. But it will be different, and sometimes with Schuyler, different is good. Sometimes.
I'm not going to lie. In some ways, it's been a rough year for Schuyler. She held her own academically in school and even managed to pass the reading portion of the TAKS test, but there have been some social pieces that have been hard to manage, and they are the ones about which I've harbored future anxiety for some time. Put simply, Schuyler is attempting to integrate herself into the social structure of neurotypical kids her age, and it's hard. She's been running into obstacles that I don't believe she understands.
I don't think it's happening very much yet; most of her classmates still treat her incredibly well, and they remain fascinated with her. (Not one but two older students asked permission to write their final class reports on her.) But when I pick her up from school, many times she'll point someone out and tell me that they are her friend, but when she tries to say goodbye to them, they will turn away from her deliberately. Schuyler doesn't take the cues and will sit there and repeat her goodbyes to them over and over. Sometimes they will turn and give her the tiniest possible little wave, as if they are embarrassed that the weird kid is calling them out. Mostly they will pointedly ignore her, even if one of the staff says something to them.
I understand. I remember that age, and I remember the social death that could come from associating with someone who your friends didn't care for. I was both the outcast and (now to my shame) the ostracizer at different points of my youth, and I remember how brutal it could be, on either side of the line. And I know that it will only get worse as time goes on.
This has happened before, of course. Schuyler's relationships with neurotypical kids have always been dicey. Even back in Austin, she had one little friend about a year younger than her who treated her pretty shabbily. She would boss Schuyler around, bullying her and lying about her. Not completely grasping the nature of Schuyler's disability, she would sometimes try to get her in trouble by telling her parents and us that Schuyler had said some mean thing or another. (That would be a very impressive trick, especially back then before the Big Box of Words.) One time, in frustration at Schuyler's refusal to be bossed around, this girl bit her.
Schuyler was a much different kid back then, before she began working with her speech device. She was still the ethereal, otherworldly little girl that I talk about in my book. So strange and beautiful, but not entirely ours or entirely in our world, largely lost to us. It was easy for other kids to treat her differently back then, easy to see her not as another kid but as something exotic, like a pet.
Four years later, Schuyler is a changed girl, almost unrecognizable from the one in the book. Despite her disability and her delayed development, Schuyler can pass very easily for a neurotypical nine-year-old now. AAC has given her so much, but it has been this most of all that I think has been the most remarkable to watch.
Schuyler exists in some ways in a strange grey area between special education and mainstream school. She is completely ambulatory, suffers none of the social or tactile anxieties of many autistic children and is unafraid of change or of operating within that neurotypical world. In her special education class, Schuyler doesn't seem to always grasp those differences. She keeps tweaking her little nemesis in her AAC class, for example, largely because she doesn't quite understand this girl's social anxieties which she does not share.
And yet, Schuyler is not capable of existing unassisted in the neurotypical world, and yet she doesn't entirely belong there. Not quite, not yet. Which is fine from a classroom perspective, since she has an aide and her BBoW to bridge much of that gap. But socially, she doesn't accept that there is any reason in the world why her neurotypical classmates wouldn't want her inside their social circles, which are alarmingly well-established even in third grade. It's hard to explain to her that while there probably aren't any good reasons, there are plenty of bad ones and she's going to get a chance to experience them all.
One thing hasn't changed since Schuyler was a remote, odd little girl with a bullying friend back in Austin. While she will stick up for herself and her friends when she feels like they are being mistreated, Schuyler will accept a shocking amount of unkind treatment from someone whom she identifies as her friend. And as a father, that is just as hard to watch today as it was four or five years ago. She's beginning to understand it now, which is probably for the best but nevertheless breaks my heart right in two. A few weeks ago, she got in trouble for hitting one of her neurotypical classmates on the playground. When asked why she did it, her explanation was that the girl wouldn't play with her. Where once she was puzzled, now she's becoming frustrated, even angry.
Schuyler's not blameless. She is in fact far from it, and I recognize that. But the older she gets, the harder it will be to explain why some kids treat her so differently and badly. In some ways, these are issues that are universal for every little kid in every school in the world. But like all things Schuyler, it's the differences that are hard to bear.
29 comments:
Oh, my, I feel for Schuyler, caught in the social brutalities of third grade. Hate to tell you, but it
gets worse for a little while. Last night I attended
8th-grade "graduation" at the small co-op school
my daughter attends part-time, and was flabbergasted by the way the girls seem to switch
best friends every week or so. The complexity of the alliances is totally beyond my child (and me too); she would be loyal forever to the first friends she ever made, and cannot understand the shifts and currents going on. She's left high and dry, like something the tide forgot to take back to the sea.
It is so painful to watch, and so infuriating too: junior high age kids in general are so wound up in their own internal dramas, their awareness centered almost exclusively on the state of their own emotions and the degree to which they are cool or fit in. I'm amazed and saddened to hear how early Schuyler is discovering that this intolerance for difference begins. Here's hoping she'll find an exceptional kid who is brave enough to openly love a friend in spite of the pressure of the crowd -- there are a handful of them out there, and having seen them, I can't admire them enough. I would never have been that socially brave myself as a child.
In lieu of that, I find Schuyler's frustrated anger an appropriate and healthy response to the herd mentality. What a difficult situation for all of you,
and for all kids who are both part of, and yet apart from, the rest.
My husband I have this fear all the time. Our son has PMG as well and he's only 2. We have had this conversation many times. What will happen when Ry realizes (or rather the other kids) that he is not like them. Or worse, what will happen when the kids are mean to him because he's not like them. It breaks my heart to hear your story.
do you think a program like circle of friends would be useful for Schuyler? I read another blog where they did the program with their son's class - with great success.
Here are the appropriate posts.
http://daisymayfattypants.blogspot.com/search/label/circle%20of%20friends
the good news/bad news is that the problem with trying to make friends has less to do with her being 'atypical' than it does with just being 9. Kids over, say, 7 are harder to befriend. It's not like the younger days when you could walk up to any kid at the park and start playing and be BFFs by lunch.
When I was a kid, I didn't fit into the cliques that I wanted to be in and it was lonely. I had some friends and wasn't exactly the most tragic case out there, but I still was hurt easily. And that's when my teacher suggested that I start 'volunteering' with the special education classes on campus. Those students had different recess and lunch break times than we did, so I could go into their classrooms during my breaks and help out. I found it tremendously rewarding. Our school focused mostly on children w/other disabilities that also had hearing loss or deafness. Our school used a dual approach and taught both sign language and spoken word, so as a 'volunteer' I got to learn ASL myself and also help the kids practice speaking along with their signing. I was 'cool' in the eyes of the younger kids so I got rockstar treatment every time I walked in the room. And the kids who were my own age were a little more timid, but I think they saw me as an opportunity to test out their skills on a 'neurotypical' kid. It was a win-win situation. It was a boon for my self-confidence and also theirs (I hope). A few of my friends ended up doing the same thing along with me, and we'd all get to go along on their field trips and invited to their class parties and stuff. The other 2 girls who went with me have gone on to be special education teachers and speech therapists.
Long comment longer: maybe there is an opportunity like that at Schuyler's school? Where she could be matched up with a 'buddy' who can maybe help her bridge the gap? someone who knows the cliques and 'mean kids' and can help her steer clear and find the kids who are more likely to be friendly?
I had boys - I think girls are tougher w/ or w/out a disability. I have found that the more involved I was with the school, the more I knew about what was going on with my own kids.
And I agree w/ Karen - Here's hoping she'll find an exceptional kid who is brave enough to openly love a friend in spite of the pressure of the crowd.
Hang in there!
My heart goes out to all three of you, but that little one is made of steel and you and Julie will find the right words when the situation arises. It sucks though, really really sucks.
God I hate bitches. Schuyler will figure out who her real friends are. I feel like that phase lasts until college...
I am coming off a year that I have taught the meanest class I have ever had. They were very cruel to each other.
Being a kid is difficult but Schuyler does have a wonderful support system in place, trust me that will help her get through the toughest times.
Schuyler is where she is supposed to be, doing what she is supposed to be doing at this time. At risk of sounding new-agey, crunchy granola obnoxious, I truly believe that. I think you have to bend your mind toward that. All will be well. Difficult but well. You have an amazing girl and you're the perfect father for her.
I've found that fourth grade is the year of self-awareness. Even my pediatrician confirmed it. This is the year that my son has started to realize that he isn't "just like the other kids" and that the bullies really AREN'T his friends. It's hard, because I want him to be carelessly happy, but I also recognize that knowledge is power. Only by knowing who he is and what his strengths and weaknesses are, can my son attempt to triumph over them.
It's not because she is different, it's because she's the same.
(Meaning, at that age, it is happening to all the kids, not just Schuyler, you don't know but maybe, and it's my fervent hope, that because she is different, she may cope easier than most.)
I feel better and in a little circle myself when I read comments on this blog. Like I'm apart of some weird little circle of the weird kids. But I have to admit it's hard for me to read this blog sometimes, because it brings up such bad memories. It still hurts, even in my 20's, it hurts.
But I like to think things have come a ways since the late 80's and early 90's, for kids like us. The different ones.
So I have a lot of faith that the different ones maybe might just have a better shot at some kind of integration, you know?
I HAVE to think that way, for Schuyler, and for all the kids of parents who read this blog. For the kid I might have one day who has a strong chance at being different too. I have to think that life will be easier, because of all the people that struggled so hard before us.
I just hope things get better for her, and for all of us. And you're my hero for being such a strong advocate for your daughter.
<3
There has got to be a better way to raise our kids, as a society, than this screwed up Lord of the Flies thing we put them all through.
Good luck explaining fairweather friends. Those people can leave lifelong scars. Make sure she understands to have the dinosaurs eat these people's heads at home only!
My own childhood was fraught with the pain of being learning disabled and less well-off in a small Catholic school, so I know exactly how cruel children can be.
My own dad answered the question "Why are they mean to me?" with stories that talked about why different was wonderful, but also dangerous... Zenna Henderson's People stories - and when she's a little older, you and Schuyler might enjoy sharing these.
The other thing is, if you see this kind of thing starting to be a problem, at any grade, you can ask to talk to the grade-level team at the school. Find out about their social skills curriculum - and what they are doing as a team to teach all the kids appropriate ways to interact with everyone. The teachers really do set the tone for a school - they should set clear boundaries of what will and will not be tolerated, and teach acceptance and tolerance.
My son has PMG and is 14. His school has a Partner's Club program that mixes neurotypical kids with the special education kids for after school activities. It has helped to have students that will recognize and speak to him outside his classroom. There are days we go out in the community and he is being greeted by many children, all of whom I don't know. He really enjoys the attention and interaction. It is still difficult with other children. You can usually see it in their eyes as soon as he approaches so I try to redirect him elsewhere or introduce him myself.
You're breaking my heart, Rob. For parents of kids with disabilities, I think the pain of seeing their kid left out or teased is the worst pain of all. At least it was for me. And you're right that the social scene is more difficult for kids with invisible disabilities. It always seemed to me that my kids who used wheelchairs or braces were included more than my son who had OCD, Tourettes, anorexia, and finally schizophrenia. And he was so aware of how things were. In the younger grades, when it was customary for a youngster to invite the whole class to a birthday party, he went to lots of parties. But as he got older, the invitations stopped coming. In middle school, he was in the hospital for several months with anorexia. An invitation came to the house for an end of summer swimming party at a classmate's home. I took it to him, thinking it might cheer him up and motivate him to get better so he could get out of the hospital. He just shrugged the invitation off and said matter of factly, "Oh, I guess he just invited the whole class." He recognized that he wouldn't have been invited otherwise, and that cut me to the quick.
That being said, I do think that girls are worse than boys about being cliquish and hateful. I also think that it's much worse now than ever, largely due to the coarsening of our culture, with the steady stream of insults that passes for comedy on TV.
You might want to take a look at the book "Queen Bees and Wannabees" It's about neurotypical middle school girls, so it won't all apply, but a lot of what you are writing about Schulyer and her friends sounds, saddly, like girls all over. When I was in third grade my two best friends decided they only needed each other, and bang, I was out of the clique. Years later, I was a camp counselor and the sweetest girl (also third grade) in my group came up to me in tears because someone had decided they just didn't want to be her friend anymore and told her so. Queen Bees gets into the brains of girls a little bit; it is also the book that the movie "Mean Girls" is based on. I don't remember if that's a movie I would actually recommend you see with a nine year old, you might want to screen it yourself first.
Lastly, Jerry Spinelli has written a bunch of great books about kids who don't fit in, that Schulyer might enjoy. Stargirl might be too hard for her to read by herself, but it's certainly an interesting story that she would get a kick out of.
Maniac Magee is at a slightly lower reading level, but still might be a reach. Both of them are great stories, though Stargirl's a little more directly relevant.
Loser, same author, is also about kids being different, but from the description on Amazon it looks like it might hit a little close to home.
Also, the American Girls company has some fun how to/advice books including A Smart Girl's Guide to Friendship Troubles, and Friends: Making Them & Keeping Them, which comes with assorted goodies like posters and stickers.
Andrew Clements has written a whole bunch of books about kids being awesome. The Landry News and Frindle both have school dynamics stuff in them, and are a little easier to read. Also, some of the Judy Blume books, like Freckle Juice and The One in the Middle is a Green Kangaroo tackle this stuff from a feel-good perspective.
Good luck!
A very quick read that you might find interesting:
"You Can't Say 'You Can't Play'"
A teacher explores why and how kids arbitrarily ostracize one another even at a very early age, and what can be done about it. The conversations she has with children about what they're doing and WHY are scary and fascinating. Might help give Schuyler some battle plans at least?
Side note: I grew up not far from where you live and even for neurotypical kids, it is hell being a nine year old girl. I came home crying a lot. In about fourth grade, my mom told me this: feel sorry for the girls who think that you have to be boring to have friends. I took it to heart, I really felt pity for them because they were simple minded and afraid.
Schuyler doesn't need to be known as the 'weird girl'. At this age, kids tend to avoid or tease people they don't understand. At the beginning of the year, one of you can go to her NT(mainstream) class and explain Schuyler's condition in terms the kids understand. Most likely that would mean comparing it in a way to deafness or blindness.
Even if she can't hang out with NT kids in her grade, no biggie. She can always hang out with other kids who have PMG or are in her academic class instead. My 7.5yo has special needs son, started having the same issue in Kindergarten. My dh and I had to ask ourselves if we wanted to our son to have a social life with NT kids or just a social life and enjoy it? He has a social life with kids in his special classes and sports and also sometimes plays with the NT kids in the neighborhood (that play with his sibs).
As he ages, we just hope that the relationships with his peers are cultivated so that he doesn't care about the popular kids so much. Luckily Schuyler has been in the same school system for a while and that stability should actually help her as she gets older. The kids who also stay will know her and like her for who exactly who she is.
--Sange
I have two sons one a year older than Schuyler who has a new best friend every other week. He is learning what a true friend is. It was not until the end of 4th grade that I witnessed something amazing with my "neurotypical" son and his friends, they are finding out what a true friend is....
Now my other son, who does not speak , is in 8th grade and has been confined to a spec ed classroom with little mainstream time, has also had an amazing thing happen when he joined the High school adaptive softball team. Which as a parent scared the be-gesus out of me, what were these big HS'er going to do to my little 8th grader. But you know what for the first time since grade school he was accepted and welcomed. They even voted him "rookie of the year". Between 3 and 8th grade, he struggled alot because kids are mean. One day they will talk to you and the next they are spreading rumors....
For me, it was the 5th grade. We moved to a new state that year and because I had an accent and dressed differently, I became the kid no one will talk to. Sadly, my family was going through a rough time and never realized how bad it got for me. I say sadly, because now that I'm a parent, I found out that there's a LOT that parents can do to help.
Love and support at home are great, but sometimes they aren't enough. The other thing that you can do is to help her get some 4th grade cred. Invite some of her sort-of-friends to your house, where she's on her own turf. Or invite them out to do something cool. Even just take them to the Purple Cow for lunch and let them sit at their own booth (right next to yours). It's much easier to make friends when you're not in the classroom or in front of the clique. And having some experiences in common (Hey! Remember when we...) helps a lot, especially if those experiences are fun to relive and would impress the other kids in the clique. Pick kids that she's not already best buds with, but not ones she doesn't have a chance with. Ones who she might be good friends with one day, but are on the fence. Her teachers can help you find them. You don't have to spend a lot of money, either. It's just a matter of finding something fun that Schuyler is good at. Maybe you could invite a friend to come to a book-signing. Let them see her in her autographing element and then let them roam the bookstore or snack at the cafe with Julie. I bet that would totally get her cred, as long as she didn't get snooty about it.
Kids can be awful to each other and girls are worse than boys, IMHO. My daughter is 12 and she and her friends are merciless and well-versed in the intricacies of social status basis on appearance, possessions and parents' income. My sons are pretty much hail fellow well met but even they don't mind labeling as "gay" kids who are anxious, inept or in some way different from them. It was ever thus but it's cruel and wrong.
It seems like all the special speakers, films and assemblies featuring quippy puppets in wheelchairs and sweet, friendly puppets with Down Syndrome are just a waste of time and money. Kids still give "cripples" and "retards" a wide berth.
I don't see how you can restrain yourself from giving those mean little girls who snub Schuyler a talking-to. It's heartbreaking that meanness seems to be hardwired into people.
I don't see how you can restrain yourself from giving those mean little girls who snub Schuyler a talking-to.
I might have been known to say something quiet and horrible from time to time.
Sounds like typical girls in middle school to me. Schuyler could have been snubbed for having a southern accent, being poor, being really tall, being really really short, having two mommies, etc. Maybe parts of it are different but it is most likely very similar.
That old phrase 'Be cool. Stay in school.' should be ammended to say 'If you can withstand all the screwed up social crap.'
Any chance that Schuyler does really understand that she is being snubbed by said Mean Girls when she says g'bye after school and she is just being very persistant? Maybe she wants to say goodbye and won't take 'No, I'm being an ass and am going to act like I am too cool for you this second.' for an answer. That would be rad. :)
Hey Dad-of-A-Daughter...I am a mom of two... and my daughter is a lot like your daughter. She is 15 now and had a wonderful elementary peer experience. Mine is not as expressive as your daughter even but the kids elected her to student council in 5th! Wow! And in middle school when the teachers (YES TEACHERs) were treating her poorly they tattled to me and came up with a plan all by themselves to ditch her aide, change her schedule to make sure friends could be with her at all times, etc. Double-wow!
Here's what I believe made all the difference in setting the foundation in elementary/community: the principal and the teachers all set her up for social success and to be a highly desirable peer. They helped facilitate friendships CONSTANTLY with the "popular" kids and helped those "popular" kids learn how to be compassionate, good friends. The ripple effect was stellar...their parents had to be won over, too. I threw myself in and volunteered as scout leader and school volunteer as well.
The girls begged for her to be a cheerleader with them because 'she liked to jump around' and no one cared when she ran onto the field -- in fact it became a turn-taking event about who was gonna go bring her back!
The most wonderful thing came about, too. These popular kids learned so much compassion and skills from being friends with my daughter, that in 5th grade when no one would allow a pesty, nerdy girl in their rodeo day square in PE, the popular group stepped right up on their own and pulled her in!
So I don't think it's too late to start in 4th, especially since your daughter keeps up academically! Get in there and make her teachers faciliate! End that inclusion-delusion!
Rock on!
I was the kid who was easy to pick on in school because I took it, and I felt badly about it. So, it continued. It is most important that Schuyler has you and Julie for support. Although it is hard, you two will make a huge difference for her. I would have given anything to have parents like you.
as an autistic adult (though one of the ones who can't stop talking) I remember my elementary school years clearly, and as an educator I've not lost touch with my students who teach early years. I remember working out my solutions to neurotypicals and finding my place among them. Even when I had succeeded in getting included (last one on the team, but still), it was never easy.
One of the problems is that the school environment is staffed largely by neurotypicals who rarely faced the kinds of experiences that your daughter does, or that any liminal being who is perceived as being on the edge. That is, the problem is in the institutionalization of social experience in schools that expects these normalization rituals that make children feel uncomfortable with people who are different.
The good part is that it does and will go away. The hard part is helping her build the skills to survive this time.
I know that this may sound strange, but wishing a child to be completely normal is like wishing a child become a transparent cog in an institutional machine. The question is how to preserve the beautiful uniqueness in an individual while mitigating the barriers to participation in society in a meaningful manner to the extent that the individual wishes.
The best i can do is pass for eccentric which is an exhausting level to function at.
But someone with a father like you appear to be (only know you in text after all) can help her to be a rare person who can find her own way to be herself in the world, and not have to give up her own character to merely fit in.
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