theories & relativity
October 24, 2013 § 2 Comments
In countless ways my children are honest barometers of my behavior; they mirror conduct and echo language, question boundaries and underscore inconsistencies. Wise in the uncluttered wisdom of youth, they challenge me with their uncertainties as they explore the world around them forming independent beliefs relative to their experiences.
This past weekend my son intentionally stationed his laptop in the space next to mine under the pronounced pretense of keeping me company while we completed independent tasks. Once our computers were stowed to the side, he asked if I thought our use of technology validated Einstein’s theory that humans might substitute personal interaction for the convenience of technology.
He phrased his question in such a way that it sounded to my ear as if he were quoting another, who in turn was attempting to quote Einstein. The reference had the tone of a profoundly prophetic but suspiciously false statement; a subtle manipulation disguised as fact. I chose to look beyond the accuracy of the quote, holding tightly to the question beneath the reference relative to the child challenging a theory with his observations and beliefs, experiences and values.
A seeker of truths and scientifically minded soul who is a passionate advocate of technology, my son moves through his days hyper-attuned to social mannerisms with the practiced but clumsy authority of one immersed in a second language. Social skills are frequently a source of frustration, exhaustive and contradictory. Technology more often offers an escape from the muddled gray area of social behavior. For my son to introduce the subject of technology as a substitute for social interaction while subtly demonstrating with his behavior an appreciation for my company over screen time was a moment worthy of pause.
There were no cookie cutter categories of correctness, no trite summation of the conflict or tidy balance of pros and cons. There were, instead, instinctive reactions to and interpretations of appropriate use of technology. Our questions were fluid and our answers open-ended.
In light of our conversation I find myself more consciously choosing the company of those in my presence, challenging myself to maintain a mindfulness of the delicate balance between intimate personal exchanges and the enrichments afforded our experiences through responsible use of contemporary conveniences; more in tune to my children’s perspectives as they hold a mirror to my choices relative to their questions.
speaking with actions
September 7, 2012 § 2 Comments
Yesterday I attended a much anticipated lecture by a woman whose work has inspired and facilitated countless efforts to translate the unspoken language of social rules for my son. Accompanying me to the event was my endearingly, frustratingly, socially ambivalent child. Happily lost to his own interests and lonely for friendship we dance endlessly around the subject of social needs.
The speaker’s social lessons were simple and at their most basic reinforced the universal importance of interpersonal relationships by highlighting practical examples: family dinners, gestures of kindness without structured rewards, clearly outlined expectations to create successful communication. Then she added a contemporary twist to the practice of social interactions by shifting the audience’s attention to encompass technology. Here the lesson challenged my own social practices.
In so many ways I allow the conveniences of e-mail, writing, texting, and social media to lend me safely guarded moments of sharing. Even my most intimate thoughts are filtered by the conscious act of typing. These moments however important are void of the human experience of body language. The lesson was beautifully illustrated on a day shared well among others.
My morning began at the breakfast table with my children and a goodbye kiss from my husband. A borrowed moment in my son’s school lead to a conversation with another mother and later the company of young artists as they colored outside the lines for a school fundraising project. Near the end of the day I met my children at the table for dinner before visiting old friends en route to the lecture. The sound of laughter, the weight of hugs, and the unguarded creativity of young minds had filled my day with tangible examples of the importance of social exchanges. My daily keystrokes sounded hollow against so many conversations and laughter.
This is not an accurate representation of a typical weekday for me. I tend to balance independent tasks and family time, keeping time with friends separate. I am certain this pattern originated out of a simple need to manage tasks efficiently and prioritize time with family, but it occurred to me I am not modeling the social lessons I endeavor to teach and miscommunicating the value of my relationships.
Embracing this realization I am making a simple promise to myself to take more care to teach social lessons with actions as clearly as words; to make visible what I so often try to conjure with thoughts. Speaking with actions.
socially speaking
April 18, 2012 § Leave a comment
The unspoken language of our bodies, innuendo, sarcasm, and play. My twelve-year-old son endeavors to speak the unspoken, stumbling through with fragmented comprehension. This is his greatest challenge as a child on the Autism Spectrum.
Before his diagnosis the tell-tale signs were endearing quirks. His ability to play creatively, independently for long periods of time were perceived as a strength. His interaction among peers was limited and awkward, but his eyes always found ours and his mannerisms were respectful and engaging. As an older child navigating the congested halls of middle school, so many moments of misunderstanding have created a new awareness of invisible handicaps as my son attempts to speak the language of social.
On his birthday my son came home and diligently reported that students on the school bus threw items at him, saying they were presents. I contacted the appropriate school administrator to request they observe the bus video and ensure that my son was treated respectfully. The video footage showed my son caught in the middle of a game of keep away where other students’ belongings were being passed around and inadvertently gifted to my son after he announced to the audience of travelers that it was his birthday.
These moments of contrasting perspective and internalization create an illusion of harm. My son feels victimized, unliked, and curls into defensiveness. Stretching his perspective outside this space and teaching him to see the world around him with neutrality and understanding is an ongoing exercise towards speaking the unspoken.
On this occasion we have the benefit of an administrator that is willing to coach our son using the tools available. A patient individual willing to share the bus video with our son to give him a different view of an experience, a rare opportunity to look at a moment of time; studying the social interactions of his peers. A small step, a large lesson. A singular act of patience and kindness.
funny pages
January 20, 2012 § Leave a comment
There are four years between my children, library shelves heavy with written words could measure the space between them. My son reads with a natural ease; ingesting volumes of literature like air filling immeasurable depths inside his small, lithe frame. My daughter extracts words from the pages of books more intentionally, she leans into a book exquisitely extracting each word with the steadfast care of an anthropologist; examining each meaning, attributing value.
In life my daughter walks ahead, aware of the world around her. She is fluid in unspoken social exchanges, communicating efficiently and appropriately. My son walks in the world like a traveler in a new land, his knowledge of unspoken social language broken and based in clumsily memorized academic examples.
There is a place my children meet as equals, a playground of social and literary; life sketched in clean lines and thoughts condensed into neatly outlined bubbles. Words and images spill loosely, thoughts mapped on the pages of comic books.
Garfield’s sarcasm and Odie’s boundless joy; Calvin and Hobbes friendship, innocence, and imagination; the clever contest of Spy vs. Spy; the contemporary commentary of the Simpsons. My children align themselves side by side as they shuffle through stacks of comic books. On these pages my son more capably navigates social humor; images capture emotional context with clarity. My daughter feels less overwhelmed in this space where images create clues that lend comprehension to new words.
More importantly, for those minutes shared between pages riddled with humor my children are friends sharing smiles and laughter over a book. Late at night and on lazy weekends these books freckle the path between their rooms. I find them scattered near chairs, among Legos, beside the computer. One picks up where another walks away; it has become a dance they perform together and apart to a silent unending song.
scribblechic 