‘My Friend Has a Son Who Is Autistic’

[mrsbuttinski]

When I attend a school function to watch my 11-year-old, who has a language-based learning disability, I am content to stand solo. I love keeping an eye on him from a distance as he sings in a concert or runs around with his classmates.



Many times at these events a parent will wander over and hang out with me a moment before initiating a casual conversation.



“My friend has a son who is autistic,” a parent once said. Or, “He is so sweet, your son! I just love him.”



These random exchanges used to take me by surprise. There was no introduction, as you would expect at an adult function filled with strangers, just straight-on small talk. No, “Hello, I am Jenny’s mom,” or “Hi, I am Sarah, my son Jack is in your son’s class.”



Instead, strangers hover nearby, apparently not sure what to say or how to start a dialogue.



At first, I wasn’t sure how to react. All of a sudden a parent would appear and begin chatting. Lost in my own thoughts, I would smile, or nod, sometimes tuning in midsentence. My intention wasn’t to make anyone feel awkward, of course, but later I’d realize that is exactly how the parent must feel standing beside me while I made little effort in continuing the discussion. I didn’t get that the clumsy idle talk was an attempt at showing compassion.



How could I be so dense?



For some reason autism is often used as a conversation-opener. Autism is everywhere in the news, so it isn’t really a surprise, and the subject is raised enough that I was more prepared when it happened again.



“Oh, really?” I responded to the parent who mentioned again at the end-of-the-year picnic that she had a friend with an autistic child. I didn’t know what else to say, but I was sure that wasn’t enough. Before she retreated, though, I tried again. “My son isn’t autistic, though he has some spectrummy tendencies. He has a language-based, processing disorder. It makes communicating difficult for him.” The conversation ignited, we talked on for a bit.



As an intensely private individual, I admit I wasn’t prepared for strangers curious enough to ask me flat out about my son’s struggles, or inquire about our experiences. It took me awhile to figure out that most people were simply drawn to my son because he is an easygoing, friendly child who wants to engage with just about everyone even though it takes a lot of effort.



“What is his diagnosis?” I heard someone ask me one day as I was shopping and my son, then about 6 years old, balanced on the end of my grocery cart. “I’m sorry?” I said, stunned, turning around to see the voice behind the question. It was the deli clerk, on a lunch break, who recognized us as regular customers.



Frequently, when my son and I are out and about in the community a smiling passer-by will high-five him or yell out his name and wave with intensity. My son always knows these parents/children/teachers and returns the gesture with the same enthusiasm. I’ll whisper, “Who is that?” and he’ll whisper back a name.



So how do you spark conversation with a parent of a child who appears to be different? The same way you do with a parent of a typical child. By asking, How’s your daughter/son doing in third grade? Or, Do you have (name of child) signed up for any after-school activities? The person responding is free to offer as much or as little information as he or she chooses.



I am aware that most people do not know how to interact with me for fear of saying the wrong thing. I see that for many, talking about a person’s differences isn’t easy. I am not burdened by the presence of disability, but I realize this is because I have been surrounded by it for years now.



To be honest, I enjoy engaging with children whose minds don’t follow the rules, their view of the world a valuable maze of insights and possibility. My son, for example, is exceptionally visual, seeing form and pattern in drops and splatters I recognize only as a chunk of snow or blob of mud. Until, of course, he points out the saxophone melting on the car’s window.



About the time parents began talking through me to get to my son, however, I decided it was time to change my approach to these encounters, so I ramped up my own conversation starters.



Like the time my son was sitting in a chair getting a hair cut at the salon. I was standing beside him catching up with his hair stylist when a mother with a full head of hair foils walked over, leaned past me and began chatting it up with my son: “Hi! I’m Jess’s mom! I saw you in gym class last week. You can really throw that basketball. How are you doing today?”



This time I smiled and put my hand out, welcoming the interaction. “Hello, I am Margaret, the mom. Jess is in my son’s class at school?” And from there I learned about Jess, and Jess’s mom, and even their plans for summer break.



Margaret Gilmour is a freelance writer and content creator. Follow her on Twitter: @marglgilmour



parenting.blogs.nytimes.com/2015/03/02/my-friend-has-a-son-who-is-autistic/?module=BlogPost-Title&version=Blog%20Main&contentCollection=Adaptive%20Parenting&action=Click&pgtype=Blogs&region=Body

[princesslily]

I felt like I was reading my own thoughts when I saw this article!

The only difference is that while I know many people gravitate to my son and his beautiful heart and I love to hear from them - I also can immediatley pick up on others trying to pry into my sons medical needs. I stay polite of course, but do not divulge information...its none of their business. While I think its wonderful there is more acceptance and open dialogue for disabilities...this isn't my information to share.

I've heard,
"Ya know, one of the kids I work with has needs like your son..."

"Our school is great for kids with autism"


"I think it's great that he's doing well in school! See, all he needed medication."*


*This was from a close friend who I briefly opened my heart about the struggles in school - never mentioned any medication to her. Months later she said the above. To which I said, "Uh, he isn't on any medication.". I was just irked her opinion that I didn't seek out. I personally think when she has her first baby and starts to hear from everyones opinion on things from basic needs to educational choices, she may start understanding how opinions can come across even if there are well intentions.