I had the coolest experience at work yesterday. I was working with a student who has been identified as having a disability on the Autism spectrum. This disability makes pretend and imaginative play really difficult for students. Their brains work so literally that they can’t allow themselves to “imagine” anything other than what is real to them. It’s a real struggle that somehow, I understand.
This particular student was asked to imagine being a friend to this girl and responding to an imaginary email she sent discussing why she was upset at him about something. He and I spent at least 15 minutes discussing this assignment. I was aware as his voice grew louder and louder with frustration and his body language tensed. I could tell this was sensitive to him. We talked in circles, gently. After long and repeated explanations of how it didn’t need to be perfect and how it didn’t need to be real, that it was okay to allow his mind to imagine the situation. I think he could tell I wasn’t going to give up. So after I simply explained that he just might have to turn that literal brain off so that he could write two sentences of imaginative response, he agreed to try.
I could tell that it was hard for him. It took at least 10 more minutes just for him to write the 2 sentences, but he did it. Then we continued with the assignment which built upon those sentences. By the time we were finished with it, he was having fun and had actually created an entire children’s book (part of the assignment) in his mind. He laughed and joked about maybe someday becoming a children’s book author.
He didn’t really realize it in that moment, but that kid just took control of his autistic brain; he took charge. If he can learn that he is capable of doing that more and more, he will learn to use the flip side of his autism (the highly intelligent side) to do amazing things in this world. He is capable. He just doesn’t know it … yet.
I gave him a high five and congratulated him on doing hard things and we went about our day.
Several hours later I picked my own kids up from school. We drove to Granny’s to drop Gemma off. When I got there, my son, Coltrin, was there and was visibly upset. When asked why, he rambled on about not knowing if I was okay and not knowing if anyone was at Granny’s with him, although he knew they were. It all really didn’t make sense; he was just upset.
As I comforted him, my brain wandered back to the struggling autistic boy. I spent a lot of time patiently walking him through difficult things. My own boy now needed me to walk him through difficult things.
There have been times in my life if I wondered if I was the right person to be raising my children, if I was equipped in the right ways to give them what they needed to become everything God intended for them. Sometimes I can be harsh and insensitive and even careless, but there, as I stroked his hair while he calmed down, I knew that I am the mother that I am supposed to be for him. I was meant to be this boy’s mom and am equipped (but still learning and gaining experience, too) with those skills necessary to raise his delicate heart up to the Lord.
Forever grateful!
