I don’t know if it’s exaggerating to call this an epiphany. After
all, I like a bit of drama. But I’ve
experienced a shift in attitude over the last week. Since I spend most of my
time reading, writing and thinking about autism, I figured if these new
thoughts hadn’t occurred to me, then maybe I ought to share them with you.
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| ALEC AND MUM |
Before I had kids, I used to get on very well with my little
nieces and nephews. One of my self-styled bonding rules was never to patronise
them and always to speak in an ordinary voice (not in cutesy high-pitched
tones). For my young neuro-typical relatives, I’d speak more or less as I would
to an adult, asking their views and listening to their thoughts. I’m pretty
sure that they liked this because I became the Pied Piper for quite a while.
Whenever we visited Gavin’s sister I’d be followed by a trail of small people,
and I liked it.
After Alec’s accident at the age of two, I seemed to break
this rule of mine. Not only that, but I’ve only just realised that I’ve done
it. Whilst I speak to Bobby in much the
same way as I did to my nieces and nephews all those years ago, I’m often
squeezing Alec into a giant hug and coo-ing over him like he’s a little baby. I
cringe when I read this. How could I have let that happen?
Do you really need to treat someone who is pre-verbal and who
has learning difficulties as if they’re younger than their age? I’ve always
rejected trying to assess Alec’s mental age, because it moves about. Of course,
if you judge it by what he can achieve at school compared with a ‘normal’ ten
year old, his mental age is pretty low. That doesn’t mean that I get to judge
how young his thoughts and attitudes are. In some senses he does act like a
younger brother to Bobby, but in other ways you can absolutely tell that inside
his head he is maturing.
There’s a difference between using simple language and
treating someone as if they are simple. Alec is still cute as a button and has
profound learning difficulties, but is he going to grow up any quicker if I
talk to him as if he’s still a toddler? I don’t do it all of the time, but I do
it too much of the time. It’s become a habit.
Here’s the profound question that occurred to me: Can Alec think
of himself as any older than five if he gets treated like a five year-old by
his mum? Don’t we always show what we expect of people by how we treat them?
The biggest way I can show him that he’s up to the job of
developing language is by how I converse with him. Not with complex language, I
can still keep it simple, but with a tone of voice that implies that I know
he’s growing up.
So, I indicated the sock drawer this morning and said in a
sensible voice (which felt somehow unkind) – “It’s the top drawer Alec, have a
look.”. And he did, and retrieved some socks. And instead of saying ‘Ooooooh
well done whoooose a clever boy then!!!’ I said ‘That’s right, good job’. He
couldn’t pretend he couldn’t do it as I hadn’t patronised him enough to allow
it.
Because he’s preverbal, repetitive and lives in a sensory
universe of his own making, sometimes the only way I can connect with Alec is
to make a big fat fuss of him.
Unfortunately, babying him may not be doing him
any favours at all. It keeps him where he is. It defines him as younger than he
is.
I don’t know why it’s taken me quite this long to realise
but perhaps it’s hard to face the fact that I do have a ten year-old who is
rather limited in what they can do for their age.
It’s easier to brand him Peter Pan and live forever inside
that mother/toddler bubble.
What could happen if I finally let Peter Pan grow up? I
guess I’ll find out.
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