Tilt-A-World

Since Asher is leaving for his first experience at sleepaway camp in little more than two weeks, we’ve been spending quite a bit of time planning, prepping, and practicing. 

Over the past two months, we’ve worked on things like:

packing an overnight bag

being a good conversationalist

introducing oneself

being responsible for one’s belongings / staying organized

taking good care of our bodies, from a personal hygiene perspective

independently gathering food and beverages for meals

Working on these things has been a breeze, mostly because Asher is so excited about going to camp, he couldn’t possibly be more motivated. But there’s one more important set of skills I wanted to work on with Asher before sending him off for a week, and that’s how to handle difficult social situations. 

Admittedly, I’ve been reluctant to get into this conversation with Asher because I don’t want to cast a negative light on an upcoming adventure he’s so excited about. Yet, I know Asher, and I know one of his biggest challenges is dealing with situations that don’t go the way he predicts. Therefore, coming up with strategies in advance for things that might happen during his week is part of what we need to go through.

This morning, I wrote up a list of the kinds of scenarios that might be challenging for Asher at camp. I came up with 6 possibilities:

Games: unpredictable outcomes, losing, not getting a turn

Other kids being unkind to you, saying rude things, etc.

Not getting a turn on something you wanted to do / try / play

Cabin (or group) decisions not going your way

Not having enough time to finish an activity / project

Having to work in a group / team

After our typical morning homeschool meeting, I whipped out my T chart with these items in the lefthand columns and then we went through them, one by one, and talked about how they might play out at camp. And as we went through each one, I asked Asher what strategy he might use to deal with the situation should it arise. I couldn’t believe the great stuff he came up with. Here’s a look:

In case you can’t read my scribble, here’s what he came up with (I was just the transcriber):

“I’ll probably do better next time” and “I might lose but I’ll be better at it in the end.”

Ignore them, tell an adult, stay calm and advocate for yourself

Tell a counselor, calmly tell them how you feel and ask for a chance, “can we figure out a way to do this another time?”

“Maybe next time it will go my way” and “maybe their way won’t be so bad” (awsomizing versus awfulizing)

“Hey, I can finish it later”

“It’s about the team, not me” and “if the team accomplishes something, I accomplish something”

To be clear, I’m not expecting this exercise is going to mitigate any issues at camp. We’re going to review this chart every day this, and maybe even do some role-playing, but the reality is, being in a new environment with so many different kids all being pushed outside their comfort zone is bound to trigger things for many campers, Asher included. 

Was one of those mornings again. Luckily, this little sign on the classroom door did the trick... 

Note to self: when I can remember to always focus on what the BOY can learn from any situation instead of what I wish was happening, things most always end well. In the ensuing conversation following the start of school with this form filled out, the boy explained to me that the thing about him is that he's the kind of person who likes to work on projects "all in one go." What a great thing to know about one's conative style at the age of 10! 

One of things that made traditional schooling difficult for Asher was the emphasis on collaboration and teamwork. Because for someone who is often singularly focused, has very strong ideas about exactly how things should unfold, and is often oblivious to how others are experiencing and reacting to his behavior, teamwork is a recipe for disaster. 

At least for now.

Homeschooling has been a big win in this department. As Asher’s teacher, I see a big part of my job as gently helping Asher learn to be more aware of others, to reflect on his own style of doing things, to learn how to cope when things don’t go the way he predicted, and to help him shift from a fixed mindset to a flexible one. And he gets to do all of this without being made fun of or in some other way being told that he’s weird or too loud or doing it all wrong.

In our little homeschool, we’re in a controlled environment. And while Ash has a handful of good friends we have regular play dates with, these are kids who I’ve “vetted” for lack of a better word...kids I know he gets along with, kids who don’t disregulate him.

Still, occasionally I sign Asher up for outside classes with other kids, because I think it’s good practice for him to be in other environments and learn how to deal with different personalities. Most of the time this works out okay. Some of the time, like today, it doesn’t.

It’s tricky. Asher is one of the kindest human beings I know. He doesn’t judge or discriminate, and he treats everyone nicely and expects to be treated nicely in return. Of course, this isn’t the way the world works. Asher’s different way of being doesn’t always engender interest or understanding from other people, especially kids. And in the real world, there are other kids who call people names, who make rude gestures, and who push buttons once they know it gets a big reaction.

When I picked Ash up today from his after school technology club he was a disregulated mess. I was especially bummed because last week hadn’t gone so well, but we’d talked it through and rather than dreading going today, he decided to have a positive mindset and expect the best. We’d even role-played how to get support from a teacher if things with his small-group partners went downhill. 

But when I came by at the end of class, there he was, seething, close to tears, beyond frustrated. The perfect storm of his need to control a group project resulted with his partners lashing out to him in a not-so-kind way.

So, what to do?

It’s not easy to know what’s best—pull him out and avoid the weekly meltdowns or keep pushing through in the hopes of him learning some social skills? 

What I do know is this:

Learning how to engage with other people in a collaborative way would be a great thing to master. Absolutely.

At the same time, this mastery doesn’t have to happen at the age of 10. What’s the rush?

The more time Asher can spend feeling calm and regulated, the more open he is to maturing and growing and learning.

Protecting Asher from situations where he will be bullied and mistreated isn’t being a helicopter parent—it’s giving him the space to become more self-aware, confident, and secure. 

Still, I don’t always know what’s the best choice in these situations.

I’m finding more and more that putting things in writing is A LOT more effective than trying to engage in lengthy conversations in the moment. I posted the above document on the outside of our home school door when Asher was running EXTREMELY late because he got sucked into something on his computer.

In the past, when Asher ignored my reminders about the time, I would continue to check in on him periodically, remind/nag him, consider throwing in a consequence or two if he didn’t get his act together, and eventually get so frustrated that my mood, and the day, would go downhill, and quick.

As a kid who went to sleepaway camp for at least a week each summer from the age of seven on, I’ve been wanting Asher to have the chance to experience that too. Camp, and everything that goes with—the adventures, the campfires, the silliness, the skits, the friendships, the freedom—was a huge piece of my growth as a kid, and I want Asher to have a chance to experience that.

Since moving to Amsterdam nearly two years ago, I’ve felt even stronger about making this happen, as there isn’t much of a homeschooling community here and it’s difficult to create opportunities for playing with other kids beyond weekly playdates and his after school technology club.

So last fall, I emailed Judy, his best friend’s mom. “What do you think about sending the boys to camp together next summer?”

She ran it by her boy. He was totally in.

Then I had a mini-freakout. Was Asher ready for this? Camp is all about games and competitions and taking turns and lots of other things that have the potential to completely disregulate my boy. This could be a disaster in the making. What had I been thinking?

I asked Judy to give me a week and then set about to calling the camp’s HQ in Seattle, finally getting the director on the phone. After I described Asher’s intensities and relayed my concerns, I took a deep breath and waited for the questions, the sighs, the hesitation.

Instead I got, “No problem. We have lots of campers like him every summer. He’ll be just fine.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Relieved but still unsure, I shot off an email to Asher’s former therapist from the UW Autism Center. She wrote back right away, assuring me that she’s had lots of her kids go to the camp we’d identified and had a fantastic experience. “I LOVE that camp! They know what they are doing!”

So...guess who’s going to sleepaway camp?

To say that Asher is excited would be the understatement of the year. Last week we spent an entire morning of homeschool devouring every blog post, video, virtual tour, and picture on the camp’s website. By the afternoon, he’d made a list of everything intended to do that week (by the way, every activity the camp offered made it to his list...he’s going to be a busy kid). By Friday, he was already asking to go for longer next summer.

Asher and his best friend—who he hasn’t seen in person in nearly two years—have had several Skype chats where they’ve plotted and planned and worked themselves up into a frenzy about how amazing it’s all going to be.

Because Asher was so devastated when we moved to Amsterdam and for months and months was desperate to go back to Seattle, we were unsure how he would respond when we returned to the States for Christmas this year. 

It's been nearly a year-and-a-half since we moved, and we knew that Asher's anger had dissipated. In fact, in recent months he'd come to an uneasy acceptance of our life here, telling me one afternoon while riding on the back of my bike, "I like it in Amsterdam. Like, I'd be okay if we have to stay here longer than we originally planned." 

We were visiting friends and family on the East Coast, so I knew he wouldn't really be faced with the "home" he spent his first nine years living in. Still, I wondered what visits to Friendly's and driving everywhere and unfettered access to Campbell's Chicken Noodle Soup would do to his mood. 

My husband and I were prepared for the usual questions he'd throw at us whenever he was reminded of home. Questions like, When are we moving back? and Can you please promise me that we'll move back to Seattle when we are done in Amsterdam? We expected at least a few disses on Holland, perhaps complaining about the guttural language or the lack of his favorite food brands.

But instead we got contentedness. Regulation. And acceptance.

Asher enjoyed his time with his grandparents and Aunt Shelly. He savored every sticky bun and soft pretzel and bowl of chicken noodle soup he devoured. He happily went outlet shopping with me so we could get him some new shoes, chilled with my parents while Derin and I spent a few days in NYC, embraced the science center and swimming pool and playgrounds he visited.

And remarkably, there wasn't one word of annoyance or sadness over not living in the US anymore. In fact, the most upset he got was the day we were leaving—he had in his mind we were flying in the morning and instead he had to wait until the end of the day.

Most incredibly, when we looked at the sunrise out the window of US Airways flight #798 and the lovely, flat green fields of Holland came into view, Asher commented on how beautiful it was, and how happy he was to be back home.

I love that Asher has opened himself up enough to be in the present moment, to enjoy what's happening when it's happening. And I'm grateful he's let go of his anger and allowed himself to fully step into his life in Amsterdam without conditions or constant questions about when and if and how we move back to the US. 

It seems as though Asher's uneasy acceptance has become a little easier.