“What are you going to be for Halloween this year, Brady?” his psychiatrist asks at the very end of his appointment on a mid-October day.
He doesn’t answer. He’s squatted on the floor creating a flip book with the paper and marker she has let him borrow. It’s a picture of a young boy who has his arms down but legs apart on the top image, but on the bottom image, he’s drawn a picture of the same boy with his arms up but legs together. Holding both in his hand, he quickly flips from one to the other.
And again and again, he flips them rapidly.
“He’s dancing!” Brady exclaims excitedly as he sees his cute cartoon come to life. He delights in making the page flip even faster.
His psychiatrist smiles and continues: “Brady, I think you were a baseball player or something like that last year, right?”
Brady keeps his eyes on the happy, dancing boy who must seem magical as he appears to move his arms and legs! In the past couple of weeks, Brady has made many of these “flip o’ ramas.” When one is particularly pleasing to him, he brings it to school to share with his friends – particularly the boy who sits behind Brady and finds them just as amusing. I like the one of the old bald man whose extended eyebrows go from making him look very disgruntled on the initial page to a much more approachable geezer with welcoming eyebrows and joyful eyes on the second page. I can’t help but laugh at the dramatic change that occurs with a simple, quick flip of paper.
The facial expressions that Brady captures in his miniature flip o’ ramas demonstrate that he understands human emotions at a deeper level than when he was younger. Back then, it wasn’t easy for Brady to pick up on other’s emotions; in fact, for the longest time, I wondered if he even noticed how he affected people.
Children with autism often have difficulty recognizing facial expressions, differentiating between tones of voice and identifying changes in body language.
The emotions chart (example to the left) was a critical learning tool that his preschool and early elementary school teachers used to assist him in understanding his own feelings as well as perceiving visual clues given off by those around him. This is the type of chart that therapists and teachers often use when working with children on the spectrum.
As a first grader, he mastered his recognition of most of these facial expressions used to describe the emotions of others and could more easily identify his own feelings. Looking back, I can now see how imperative these skills were for his social growth.
Understanding what a peer may be feeling, or how they are reacting to you, is a very tough skill; one that all of us must strive to polish over time. The other side of this social skill is learning how to respond back. For a child on the spectrum, this is always a work in progress. “Why might Ben be mad? As Ben’s friend, what can you do or say to help Ben?”
Importantly, I learned that it wasn’t that Brady didn’t care about others; he was clueless. It wasn’t that Brady didn’t have empathy for others; he didn’t pick up on what others might be feeling. Therapy, and parenting with a new awareness of the lack of Brady’s brain to give him needed signals, helped him grow antenna that daily become more sensitive. Progress in these complex social areas takes effort, patience and careful, consistent coaching.
Back to the psychiatrist’s office scene…
His psychiatrist smiles. “Brady, I think you were a baseball player or something like that last year, right?”
Brady doesn’t answer because he is too engrossed in his flip art.
I jump in: “Actually, he was his own creation last year. I’m not sure what anyone would have labelled his costume but he was happy to trick or treat for a bit and that was the objective.”
I doubt Brady is hearing us at all but I’m not sure, of course. He can be very immersed in a sensory stimulating activity (art, usually) and then surprise me later (even days later) by bringing up a conversation that he seemingly ignored at the time. Just because he isn’t staring at us as we speak or giving us his full attention doesn’t mean he isn’t listening or that, in his own time, he won’t reflect on the dialogue he heard.
“Eye contact can be uncomfortable, confusing, and even painful for autistic people. Being forced to make eye contact may hinder an autistic’s ability to socialize rather than enhance it, like many therapists assume it will. Unfortunately, in many clinics, classrooms, and homes, eye contact among autistics is a misunderstood phenomenon, and fleeting eye contact is often misinterpreted as disinterest, a lack of focus, or misbehavior. However, some autistics have asserted that the opposite is actually true–that they have to avoid eye contact in order to block out distractions and focus on the message that the speaker is trying to convey.” – excerpt taken from https://www.learnfromautistics.com/eye-contact-and-autism
Honestly, Halloween can be a tricky time for children like Brady. While he loves eating freshly roasted pumpkin seeds after playing with the goo inside a pumpkin, there are other things he’s not to fond of. The ghosts, goblins, and other come-back-to-life creatures can cause some fear and confusion. For example:
“Mom, why do people buy ghosts and hang them? Are ghosts real? Am I going to become a ghost when I die?”
“Mom, why do people put scary stuff up?”
“NO. I’m not dressing up to get candy. I don’t like candy. I like money.”
“Why do I need to say ‘Trick or Treat’? I’m not going to say it.”
“Why are neighbors giving me candy? Don’t they know I like money?”
My husband and I don’t force Brady to go out to Trick or Treat on Halloween. Surprisingly though, despite his apprehension, he will head out with Dad and siblings to visit a few houses on our street. I stay back to hand out candy and wait for Brady’s return. He does like the pleasure of running up to someone’s front door to ring the doorbell (“My turn to ring it!”). Not surprisingly, he’s always the first one home, perhaps lasting 10-15 minutes. Again, he’s not a candy person so he doesn’t understand the point.
Except…he does love full-sized milk chocolate Hershey bars. Once he gets one or two of those, he asks to return home. Dad walks him back before heading out again with the others who are just getting started.
I love you Brady and I do understand the logic of your questions. As a family, for fun, we participate in some wacky traditions. I can’t adequately explain to you why we celebrate Halloween by collecting boatloads of candy or why a neighbor has a 20-foot ghost in his front yard. With this being the start of the holiday season, I can’t wait to explain to you again why Santa hasn’t lost weight since last Christmas, and yet, continues not to get stuck in our chimney. Nor can I give a good enough explanation as to why we enable his poor eating habits by leaving out cookies for him, but carrots for the reindeer.
Frankly, I’m proud of you for being a part of the holiday traditions in ways that make sense to you. Be a fireman, a police officer, a comedian, or whatever pleases you. You have always been authentically you.
This post has been part of a blog hop (Finish the Sentence Friday) hosted by Kristi Campbell of Finding Ninee (www.findingninee.com) with the theme of Halloween. Be sure to check out other Halloween posts on her site.
Aww! Tucker loves dressing up in costumes of his own creation, and really any costume. He’s made similar ones (the binoculars hanging from Brady’s neck seem particularly familiar). I’m so glad he’s got the new antennae to read emotions better, and that he has you and yours as a family to know when it’s enough, time to go home, and when it’s time to explore. Isn’t it funny how differently kids respond to the scary stuff? Tucker LOVES it, and has since he was little. Also had to LOL about Brady wondering about Santa’s eating choices. Ha!
Rebecca,
will admit my heart stopped when I read about Brady and the psychiatrist and Halloween in the first paragraph.
I will see if this post is a Trick or a Treat.
Very aviator-type?
Yes – only a mother knows their child best. I am very attuned to Brady’s perceptions, emotions, how he is affected by things/people around him. I think that is why I am his most trusted person.
Brady likes to run and jump so the yellow cape adds a bit of magic to the pretend play (which I’m thrilled to see him engaging in!).
The cape is magical, both tactually and spatially.
Swishy and visible!
I was able to read the whole post for the second time – with the faces and the charts.
And that big difference between lack of empathy and cluelessness.
[yes; even when our brains tell us stories/lies/make mistakes!]
Aww! I Love his costume, whatever it is. And I think Halloween is a really strange holiday to explain. And I don’t like candy much either, but I must have more as a kid.
I love all your perceptions of how he takes in the holiday. It warms the heart.
Thank you, Tamara! It’s always interesting with Brady. I’ve learned to be super flexible and take LOTS of deep breaths (to maintain my cool and go with the flow).