Last week Nick’s science teacher mentioned in an email that he was concerned that Nick is isolating himself socially. The other kids don’t know that he’s autistic, and they wonder about his odd behavior and lack of social reciprocation. There appears to be a general atmosphere of acceptance in his science classes, and I am not pressuring Nick to disclose his autism. Still, something seemed lacking in his teacher’s view, because school is seen as a social place and not just an academic place. A child who doesn’t even try to make friends is cause for concern to his teachers no matter how good his grades are.
I told his teacher that there should continue to be zero pressure on Nick to connect socially in school. Nick uses school for academics only. Everything that does not lead to him getting a diploma we have eliminated—no homeroom, no assemblies, no pep rallies, no non-required electives. His custom school day uses up way fewer tokens than a regular day would, which allows him to thrive at school and get his education. If we added in social expectations, he would be overwhelmed.
That’s not to say that we don’t want him to have a social life. Nick craves social contact to a certain degree, so we look for appropriate ways to meet that need. At Karla’s monthly teen/mentor meetings, Nick is outspoken and supportive. He engages regularly with his siblings. He has neighborhood friends who have known him since he was four and accept him as he is.
Yesterday we were in Vernonia, a small town about an hour’s drive from home with a lake that has just been stocked with 3,000 trout. Nick had been planning this day for weeks, and while we waited for Karla to meet up with us, Nick connected with a handful of boys who were out here for the same reason. They talked about the best spots on the lake to fish, what kind of bait they were using, and who had caught what so far. None of them knew each other but they were instant fishing buddies. The old coots who are always around advised the young ones, and the young ones heeded them with respect. I watched him interact and wondered if his science teacher would even recognize him. The awkward, seemingly antisocial kid who ignores his classmates was demonstrating stellar social skills to anyone holding a fishing rod. This happens every time he goes fishing and there are other people around.
So what’s going on here? Does my autistic son lack social skills or does he not? The answer is that context matters. Socializing costs a lot of tokens. When Nick is in a situation that is already difficult for him, he won’t have those tokens to spare. He will need to focus on what really matters to succeed in that situation (in science class, success = learning science). When he’s engaged in a special interest like fishing, he is rebuilding his token supply, so he has plenty to spare for non-necessities like socializing. Because he does crave social contact, connecting with his fellow fishermen at the lake is a priority, unlike making friends in school.
At his last fencing tournament, I noticed the same thing. Fencing is a different kind of special interest for Nick because it does cost him tokens due to the stress of competing and the sensory input. But he is rebuilding tokens while he spends them because he gets so much satisfaction from fencing, so he can generally participate in the social aspects of practice and competition. In Seattle two weeks ago, Nick chatted with his teammates, cheered them on, listened carefully to his coach, and even talked to fencers from other teams. Again, I suspect his science teacher would have been surprised to see how social Nick can be in that context.
(By the way, for anyone who knows fencing, Nick earned his first rating at that tournament: E2013. He’s not just a good fencer despite his challenges. He’s a good fencer, period.)
Karla often says that autistic people need to “find their peeps” as she did in the high-tech industry and among people who share her special interests. Nick’s peeps are at the lakes and rivers; they’re at fencing clubs, campgrounds, and reptile expos. Those are the places where he shines. School is a tool he is using to gain himself more options for how he wants to live his life. It’s not a place where he should be judged by his social skills. Nick is thriving in school: getting straight A’s, making the honor roll, and learning eagerly. If a teacher doesn’t see that as thriving in the absence of making friends, I am here to show him a different perspective.
I never, ever do well when I am only around people in my own age group, especially when it is all girls! But frankly, I do not care. I have many friends who are years older and younger than me, and have more in common with me, than anyone I knew who was also born in 1992.
I really do wish I had more friends in town, but very few students on my campus seem suited to be my friends. They all assume I like parties, that I have a part-time job, or that I can drive. None of those apply to me, and I have a hard time trusting that others won’t judge me for those.
If you do want more local friends, maybe joining a club pertaining to one of your interests would be a good place to start. That gives you something in common right away.
That’s what everyone keeps telling me, but it never worked well enough. It only helped me make a few acquaintances. I am urging the Student Disability Center to get a program started in the dorms so that I can actually tap into my advocacy skills.
I’m not completely isolated anyway. I do have a boyfriend who regularly drops into my place, and he’s an ASAN chapter leader. The ASAN group and my charter school are the only places where I felt like I was actually part of the group.
In the end of the day, it is really more about sharing passions than sharing interests. Only on rare occasions have I met anyone who even knows what neurodiversity is, let alone advocates for it like I do. Most people I meet are too reluctant to talk about “taboo” topics, which are my favorite things to talk about (as long as it doesn’t go into animal rights or gun control).
Neurodiversity is a pretty new concept to mainstream society but it is gaining!
Chels744, I really do understand what you feel. My ASD daughter is 22 and does reasonably well with little kids under the age of 5 and then with the elderly. She had a lot of problems at school with people saying they were her friends only to discover the opposite. Consequently the word “friend” is a very bad word for her.
I am learning about neurodiversity and it really makes sense to me. Now I am working to get the people that support my daughter to learn about it and accept it. It is a work in progress but, a very worthwhile one.
Hopefully one day my daughter will find her “peeps”
Why I dislike the term “Social Skills”:
Because using the term implies that it’s something you don’t know, until someone teaches them to you, and then, there’s no excuse anymore to fail applying them.
I think the word “Social Resources” might be much more accurate, because it implies the fact that they can be depleted, and then the person is unable to act “properly”, despite the fact that they are aware of all the social guidelines they’re violating.
Or, Social Spoons 🙂
Great point. Social tokens, maybe. 🙂
Love it!
Thank you for this! It makes so much sense! I wish I could share this with our child study team!
Why not share it?
They don’t take too kindly to being “told” anything! :o) I try to slip things in when I can. I’m so glad there are people like you writing about it!
So my first reaction when I met Nick at the mentorship thing, knowing what I knew of his story:
“how does anyone NOT like this kid? He’s fantastic. He’s personable and he is helpful and he is saying useful stuff with no BS. The world needs more JUST LIKE HIM”
…and then I remembered that I’m Autistic too so I *would* think that. In that context, he shines.
Context does matter but he really is a great kid. 🙂 Thanks.
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