Practising Skills in the Virtual World

Having taught our autistic son Bobby to learn to speak at the age of 4, it seems a little churlish of us to be fine tuning his social skills at the age of 9. Are we never grateful? But that's what I've been doing.

Actually, we didn't teach him to speak. He did that all by himself with a little motivation from Makaton and packs of raisins. Noone can teach to speak if you don't actually want to in the first place.

To Bobby, talking to me about social skills seems about as much fun as double maths was to me when I was in secondary school. I can almost see the cogs whirring in his brain.

For me, this is a bit like being given a giant Lego building, taking it down and then showing him how to rebuild it brick by brick. I have to take apart all the social stuff I take for granted, examine it with a magnifying glass, translate it into 'Bobby speak' and relay it to him. Whilst this can be a little wearing, it's tremendously rewarding. Bearing in mind that now he's 9 we have a limited window of opportunity before his knuckles start scraping the ground and he starts going 'WHA'?' and slamming doors, I'm keen to help him.


Our little lesson came about as a result of that mixed blessing, the computer. Here in the virtual world, Bobby can practise his social skills with rubbish conversations and random nonsense and it doesn't matter. He can simply walk away from his 'Robloxian' mate and their paths need never cross again. This is a bit like speed-dating without the romance. Although it's a great opportunity in terms of learning, it's also fraught with obstacles. I'm helping Bobby to overcome these in a safe way.

So, I'm watching from the spare bed as he types away in the zealous manner of a medical secretary. He is having a conversation with someone who has a code for his name and is wearing quite cool clothes considering he's made from virtual blocks. They are playing bowling together, but the other virtual dude seems not very friendly. He is talking with some hashes (no doubt blocked out swear words) and has already called Bob a 'Noob' which is a Robloxian insult.

Bobby on the other hand is being friendly as hell. 'Can we play again after this?' 'Can I be your friend?' 'Can you friend me?' 'Don't swear!' 'Sorry!' etc. He is coming across as alternately needy and bossy. I decide after not too long that I don't really like him hanging out with this building block thug. There's no point in telling him 'no' though, if I don't equip him with the ability to reach his own conclusions.

I try to find the most visual way of describing a friendship. Inspired, I take the kitchen weighing scales and some apples out into the garden. I explain friendship as a sort of scales, with someone putting in a little bit about themselves on one side and then the other person following suit. I describe a 'balanced' friendship as one where we both put in the same amount. Then we think about what happens if all the apples are on one side and nothing on another - we walk away.

We also only put little weights on to start with - and always only little weights when it comes to people we don't really know on internet games. Little bits of chat about the game, nothing else.

We save how to tell if someone is taking the mickey out of you for the next lesson. A bit at a time will be easier to digest. Besides, I need to work out how to deconstruct that particular building first.

Bobby seems really interested - I think he gets it. This won't be the first time I need to share the idea, and he actually asks me to write Social Stories these days. But it's beginning a thought process - the thought that we have to watch carefully what we invest in and that we have to defend ourselves from people who aren't worth our time.

Suddenly he seems exhausted. 'Can we stop talking about this now?' I reckon that's how I used to feel at the end of double maths. This stuff really isn't that easy and good on him for being prepared to chat about it.

Bobby is growing up in a world where people will seek to take advantage of him. He will need to make judgements on people's behaviour. Sometimes if someone is giving a sarcastic look on TV, I ask Bobby what he thinks they're thinking. He pretty much gets it right. Practise makes perfect though.

All this is probably preferable to what I really feel like doing, which is getting on the computer to trendy Robloxian and saying 'Oi! Does your mother know that you swear online? How old are you? Go and bother some other kid!!'

I won't be able to do that in a bar when he's 21, so I may as well refrain now (though it's tempting).