Charlie Speaks: On Self-Advocacy and Autism (#388)

"Does he attend a special therapeutic school?"

A girl Charlie's age asked me.

We were standing on the side of the pool and Charlie, shoulders squared, was making a few springy jumps on the diving board. My interlocutor had jumped off the board before Charlie and, as she swam to the ladder, had kept looking over her shoulder with a look of bafflement and annoyance as to why----unlike the other kids-----Charlie (all 4 1/2 feet, 75 pounds of him) was not adhering to the rule of Do Not Get On the Diving Board Until the Previous Swimmer Is At the Ladder. She had probably noticed how I (swimsuitless) had been standing beside Charlie in the line and tapping his shoulder so he would stay in it.

"He's autistic," I said, and got the quite-informed response above. "Do you know any autistic kids?" I asked.

"My mom works at a therapeutic school with autistic kids," she said. At which point, Charlie jumped, arms straight at his sides.

I later noted that she was pointing to Charlie (swimming grandly as a seal---it was hot today) and me out to her mom. I was watching the clock: Adult Swim is whistled promptly at every quarter of an hour. Charlie was in the shallow end when the lifeguards blew those whistles and, while he was one of the last kids out, Charlie followed my requests that "it's Adult Swim, we gotta get out!" as remembrances of fishing---dragging---out a wailing, wet boy under disapproving eyes ran through my mind.

"Slwide." Charlie raced to the little playground past the wading pool, found one of the four swings free, and asked "Pbush!"

The other swings were occupied by two boys, all Charlie's age and size in swim suits and towels, and a little girl and her father. Two other boys (also Charlie's age) were hanging around and one in particular was getting in the way of and snapping his towel at a skinny fair boy who was swinging.

I glanced their way as I pushed a laughing Charlie higher and higher. The skinny boy looked right at me as the other boy glared and whacked his towel.

I wanted to say something but it was not as easy as my by-now-over-practiced "my son has autism." When Charlie ran to the play structure, I planted myself at an angle towards him and towards the other boys. The skinny boy glanced at me once more and then the towel-snapper took over an unoccupied swing, and I became absorbed in figuring out when to climb up on the play structure and gently tell Charlie to hold his place in line amid a crowd of younger, pushing, water-filled-bucket wielding children. I was hoping that Charlie's desire to go down the slide would lead to him making his way to the front, but the others were all too quick, and using their elbows, and Charlie hung back----and I could tell, from the worry-look in his eyes, that it was time to advocate for his right to slide, as gently as possible.

Not every child has a mother who works at a special therapeutic school, and talks about it to her daughter.

And it will not be forever that I am standing on the playground for Charlie, a boy in need of a bit of help.

And that is why learning to self-advocate----to stand up and speak out for himself----is a constant goal of ours for Charlie. Jim traveled up to Providence today to attend the Autism Society of America's conference and, more specifically, to learn what Kassiane had to say about self-advocacy. I would have more than have liked to be there, too, with Charlie-----but Charlie did not want to miss a day of school.

Correction: Charlie has been telling us that he does not want to miss a day at school by the determined way he calls for the bus and his serious look when we talk about his teachers and school: "Yallow school bus!"

I guess that's not such a bad start for Charlie standing up---speaking up---for himself.

Autism Asperger's Children Science Health Parenting Education Mercury mothering psychology

Comments

[Rose]

Maybe self-advocation begins with self-promotion ala "I good!". Charlie is on his way! (I loved that post yesterday, but didn't comment. His use of the pronoun "I" is exquisite in my mind.)

[Kristina Chew]

It really caught me by surprise! And using it with "good" as he took out the garbage.

[Kristin]

I wonder that about Gabe too, whether he will be able to be assertive enough socially. He sometimes lets other kids push him aside, but there are times, that he makes it known, in a three year old way (mostly yelling "MY TURN!"), that he is "next in line." lol It's a skill that I think many of us need to practice.

Kristin

[Kristina Chew]

Kristin, that's so great Gabe speaks up for himself (literally)----

Yes, it seemed to me that some of the other kids on the playground needed a lesson or two in this.