“We have got to work on keeping these children engaged with the world.”
– Temple Grandin on the importance of connecting autistic children with others and the world around them
Surreptitiously, I walk into the school cafeteria because I’d prefer that Brady not see me. I happened to be in the school volunteering and just as I was about to leave, I realized that the 4th graders would be at lunch. Being a mother who never misses a perfect opportunity, I couldn’t leave without a quick sneak peek at Brady with his new friends. After all, they are the reason he can’t wait to get to school every morning. From a distance, I recognize his face and notice that he seems upset (shoulders slumped, head down). A couple of boys at his table are talking with him. They look as though they are trying to figure out what’s wrong. I am touched by their concern, their gentle body language. One has his hand on Brady’s shoulder. These kids seem to be genuine friends.
Less than a week earlier…
“I have a hard time with friendships,” Brady says calmly to a classroom friend. Brady’s teacher overheard him saying this. It made her pause. Such open confessions. I’m happy to tell you that as he ages, Brady is becoming more self-aware. He’s eagerly trying to navigate the ups and downs of being included in the social life of school, and he’s quite aware that sometimes his behavior can make others frustrated and/or confused. He may inadvertently make his peers think that he doesn’t want to play.
The truth is that Brady loves people. He loves engaging in a hearty belly laugh with his friends; he is greatly affected by all the smiles he receives. He wants to be included, to be accepted and to be loved.
However, as Brady perceptively knows, maintaining friendships is an ongoing challenge. Signals get crossed and Brady may not even notice. Friends might wonder: Why is Brady suddenly so upset? Did I do something? Everything was fine a couple of seconds ago. Why can’t he tell me what’s wrong? (pssst – He can’t find his words when he’s overwhelmed.) Friends may not realize, that later, when Brady is again at ease, he feels very badly about how he may have affected others. Likely, they don’t realize how much he worries about whether his friend will remain his friend tomorrow. He becomes engulfed with worry as his anxiety spins in self-tormenting loops. As his safe spot, I am the receiver of the verbalized thoughts that race through his brain: “Mom, will he still like me even though I cried about my missing apple?” “Will he forgive me for growling at him?”
Later in the evening, self-doubting thoughts infiltrate his mind again.
“Mom, nobody likes me. I don’t like myself. I’m dumb.”
“I’m going to be alone when I’m 25. I’ll live in a bunker. No one will want to be with me.”
(Twenty-five seems to be an important age in Brady’s mind. The idea of “bunker living” comes from a movie he watched recently.)
Hugs and more hugs as tears fall. I do my best to console him but there are a lot of nervous insecurities that creep up and make him feel like everything is doomed. Everything is messed up.
Dear Brady, this is so far from the truth. At age five, Brady played detached while his three siblings interacted around him. Now, at age nine, he’s talking openly with peers – all without a support person prompting him. As his mom, I keep pinching myself. I wasn’t sure he would ever interact appropriately with typical peers. Seeing Brady make such social strides is a “goose bumpy” thing for me to watch, and that is why I wanted to observe him in the uninhibited, loose cafeteria setting.
Sure, he was upset, but he found his words within a few minutes. His most-favorite-type-of-apple-in-the-universe had rolled onto the floor, and he was mad at himself for dropping it. No one knew this had happened.
“What’s wrong, Brady?” asks a friend at the table.
The cafeteria lady notices a few boys gathered around Brady. She walks over.
“What’s going on, Brady? Tell me.”
With tears in his eyes, he points downward: “MY APPLE.”
I’m at the table now and Brady’s friends, the cafeteria lady, and I look under the table. There it is. His half-eaten apple. We all instantly feel sad because we know he really wanted to finish eating his delicious apple.
“I’m sorry it fell,” I say.
“Brady,” says a boy whose table is adjacent. The boy holds a red apple in his hand and moves it towards Brady.
“Here. You can have mine. I don’t need it.”
I’m dumbfounded. “Are you sure?” I ask.
“Yes. It’s yours, Brady,” the friend kindly reiterates.
Brady takes it and immediately puts it into his mouth.
“Thanks,” he says with a mouth full of apple. He turns around to continue his lunchtime at his table while I leave in wonderment.
This year seems different than all the previous ones; this year real friends are being made. Brady has become more social. He’s asking questions and relaying his thoughts to others. Authentic interaction mixed with some developing social skills are being played out daily with peers who are getting to know him just as he is. Autism adds a messy but uniquely fun twist to a relationship. Brady is Brady so there is no holding back or filtering expected. He’s revealing some endearing pieces of himself and classmates are, in turn, being pulled in by his charm and caring nature.
“I’m giving this flip o’ rama to Tim*,” he tells me at breakfast time before school. “He loves the ones I draw where the toilet eats up the bad guy.” (*all friend names have been changed)
Befriending Brady requires a hefty amount of compassion, some patience, a sprinkle of tolerance and quick perception, all mixed with doses of reassurance – and a huge sense of humor – that is a must. Brady needs a friend who can easily let a lot of the little quirky ‘Bradyisms’ roll off their back.
“Your arm looks so soft,” Brady says to Todd,* during lunchtime at our house.
“I don’t know if it’s that soft really, Brady,” replies Todd matter-of-factly.
Brady reaches over and gently pets Todd’s arm from the elbow to the wrist.
Todd keeps eating, doesn’t even flinch. In fact, I wonder if he’s just that used to Brady.
Brady continues to slowly caress his friend’s arm. “Todd, your arm feels as soft as silk. Do you think you are as soft as silk, Todd?”
Todd, as calm as Clint Eastwood would be up on his horse (despite not knowing what lies ahead) replies: “I don’t think much about my arms.”
Todd pauses and looks at his one arm as Brady removes his hand. Todd goes down his own arm with one hand and remarks: “I guess I do have soft arms. I don’t think they are as soft as silk though. Silk is super soft. Have you felt silk before, Brady?”
“No.” He turns to me: “Mom, can we go to a store and feel silk with Todd?”
“Not now, Brady.” We head to a playground where the boys run around together – climbing, riding scooters, sharing their thoughts.
If I were to give a talk about befriending my son Brady, I would start by sharing how Brady’s autism affects his way of thinking, especially how the outside world can be overwhelming to his senses (e.g. crowds, loud noises can be very upsetting). I’d share the ways he naturally copes and adapts. Autism is one of those conditions that is easily misunderstood by many kids and adults alike. Just remember this saying: If you know one person with autism, well, you know ONE person with autism. In a nutshell, autism can look vastly different. Each person is affected to varying degrees by the known medical characteristics of autism.
Do you want to better understand Brady because you are his new pal this year? If so, let me explain how autism affects him.
- Many autistic people stim. Stimming is any repetitive behavior – physical (e.g. rocking, spinning, jumping, flapping hands) and/or verbal (e.g. humming, repeating the same word(s)). Brady’s verbal stimming has changed over the years. When he was very young, he used to MOOO like a cow over and over again while up in his room, rolling around on his bed. I’d hear LONG, DRAWN OUT MOOOOOOOOs. Currently, he says “I LOVE YOU MOMMY!” over and over again in a high-pitched voice. I hear this roughly 50 times a day.
What’s the theory as to why kids on the spectrum engage in stimming? Many believe that these repetitive behaviors soothe/calm the individual. If you think about why someone may twirl their hair or why a person might tap their foot, you can draw important parallels as to why an autistic individual might hum and rock their bodies in moments of feeling overwhelmed. These are subconscious soothing behaviors.
“When I did stims such as dribbling sand through my fingers, it calmed me down. When I stimmed, sounds that hurt my ears stopped. Most kids with autism do these repetitive behaviors because it feels good in some way. It may counteract an overwhelming sensory environment…” – Temple Grandin
If you are a friend of Brady’s and you see him doing something repeatedly that seems a bit quirky, you can either give him his time and space to recover and get back to you (these stimming behaviors cease after a few minutes) or you can place your hand on him (physical contact is soothing as well). You’ll have to assess what seems best for you. Just know that he’s doing this without thinking about it; he’s only reacting to what his mind needs in that moment.
Feel free to turn your attention away from him. He’ll come back to you when he’s ready.
- Brady is a literal thinker. He doesn’t understand the nuances of sarcasm, irony, metaphors, or the implied meanings behind certain sayings. According to the Center for Autism Blog, sarcasm or irony is used in conversation an average of once every 2 minutes. For those with autism, that means that once every 2 minutes of conversation they are confused. Cat got your tongue, Brady? (FYI, Brady is thinking about a real cat that took his tongue.)
If you are a friend of Brady’s and he seems confused by something you said, please think of another way of saying the same thing. This will help him understand so he doesn’t feel excluded and can continue to be a part of the conversation. Brady is not as adept at ‘reading between the lines’ or picking up social cues as you may be. He may not realize when something is a joke or when you are being serious. He may need you to take a minute and explain your intentions, what you are really trying to say. He often feels left out of group conversations for these reasons even though he really wants to be included. Here’s where your explanations can make a powerful difference.
- Brady deals with stress triggers by shutting down. He can be overwhelmed by too much noise, too many words on a page, not being able to find something he finds comforting (a fidget toy). Autism is a neurological condition and when Brady shuts down, he does so involuntarily. He is unable to be present in his usual interactive way and needs time to recuperate.
If you are a friend of Brady’s and see him with his head down, you may also notice he is twisting the bottom of his shirt. You’ll need to be patient at this time knowing that he cannot help how he is feeling. You can give him time and space to recover or simply say: “It’s going to be alright Brady.” Feel free to take his hand and guide him to a quieter spot, away from the crowds, lights, noise. Better yet, raise your hand and tell his aide, “I think Brady needs to walk the hallway with you, Mr. S.”
- Brady is a very affectionate person. Believe it or not, many autistic people are quite affectionate. Brady can be overly tactile (remember the caressing of Todd’s arm?) and fail to recognize social boundaries regarding showing affection. He’s much better than he used to be about understanding what is appropriate and what is not but still has a way to go.
If you are a friend of Brady’s and he invades your personal space, please tell him “You’re in my personal space, Brady.” He needs this social feedback to help him become more aware. Try to understand that Brady may invade your space without realizing it because he is so fond of you. Please help him understand your boundaries. “Brady, I don’t want you to put your arm around my shoulder, but we can fist bump.”
- Brady is very trusting of others and doesn’t understand ill intentions. (Why would someone lie to me?) He is vulnerable because he can be easily fooled or tricked. If you are a friend of Brady’s, please stand up to those who take advantage of his trusting, naïve heart. Try to protect him from those who want to use him for their own social gain. Brady will never talk poorly about you behind your back; he wears his emotions unabashedly. He’ll be your loyal friend 100%.
- If Brady seems hesitant to you, please remember that autistic people need time to process, time to interpret your words. Sometimes, he can’t take it all in at once. Please repeat yourself or be more succinct so he can process it and react. He needs more time to plan, adjust his mind to a new activity, to take in all the ‘clutter’ of everything going on around him, to understand it all. He’ll get there; it may just take him a few more seconds than you.
- If you notice Brady piling up mulch pieces on the playground instead of playing tag as you did together yesterday, don’t wonder if you did something wrong. The brain of an autistic person can get overloaded by heavy social time and they will automatically seek solitude. Brady isn’t thinking of how you are perceiving him (he usually doesn’t) because he is giving his brain what it needs – time to recover, time to turn inward and soothe himself with the texture of feeling the mulch pieces as he gingerly positions them in a circle at his feet. Does he seem to be in his own world? Perhaps, but I believe that he’s just relaxing in the same way you might do when you stare at the TV and seemingly can’t hear your mother calling you for dinner. You’re in a happy zoned-out space, recovering from a long day at school. Kids like Brady need these brief times of rest more often during the school day than a typical kid might.
In many ways, befriending a child who has autism can feel much like being friends with a child who doesn’t have autism. All friendships require effort. Brady needs a friend who is tolerant, loyal, patient, perceptive of another’s needs and feelings, and one who doesn’t let most stuff bother them too much. He needs a buddy who enjoys answering the myriad of questions that enter his mind. For example:
“What does ‘sense of humor’ mean?”
“Can grumpy people still be kind?”
“Why do we need to go to music class?”
“Do caterpillars like worms? Are they jealous of one another?”
“Does Captain Underpants like George and Harold? Does he know about their secret treehouse?”
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Someone who listens, someone who helps us process the world around us, someone who cares.
Someone who accepts us as we are, while helping us grow into our best selves.
Isn’t that what everyone wants?
I’m so happy Brady has such amazing friends. Can I ask – do they know he has special needs? I only ask because I wonder regarding Tucker… he seems to be met with less kindness in situations like the apple on the floor. But wow, friend, our boys have come SO FAR. Brady is (and always has been) totally awesome. I’m LOVING his questions to you! Brilliant. He’s going to do amazing things. I know it.
Thanks for the support, dear friend! I believe that although it isn’t announced to the classmates that Brady has autism, they see that he gets lots of assistance from his aide. They see that he gets pulled out to go to a special reading group. I believe that many know he has autism, or at least suspect he has special needs.
Thank you for sharing Brady’s story Rebecca. What a sweet boy he is. You surely bless each other!
Hugs, Jeanine