My child, my little one, my own
Daniel is all elbows out and arms waving (yes, both at the same time) in the delicate china shop of the world. He rages, he flails, he breaks things. He is upset, angry and sometimes unkind. He makes teachers sweat. He makes grown-ups shake. We have, over the years, grown easier with that, more able to love and support him, more able to tolerate certain sorts of temper while coming down hard on certain kinds of behavior. And we see progress. We still don’t know WHY he is how he is, if it’s not just spectrum stuff. There may be some magic answer (bipolar? OCD? it’s definitely possible) but I am not sure. And it is easier not to think in those terms. It has been, honestly, so much better for us all if we don’t see him as a problem that needs solving but as a child who needs loving.
When we see him as a problem, life grows dark. All his episodes, his manias, his obsessions and howls of frustration take on sinister significance. They rack up on some inner chalkboard and each swipe of the chalk pulls us further from him. Trying to solve him, alienates us from him. Suddenly he is the other, the challenge, the problem.
When we see him as our darling, our son, our little one, the sky lightens. Suddenly, it is so much easier to parent him, to set the limits he needs, to negotiate with him well. He behaves far better as well, sensing (like the canary in the mine) that there is enough oxygen for him to breathe, enough love for him to feel safe.
His teacher wants to know how we’re solving him. Talking to her is like pounding my head against a rough concrete wall. Pointless. Painful. She wants to know who his therapists are, what traumas he has endured. She wants to know how we handle him so that she can “teach him how to behave.” She wants (a month into the school year) to see progress, to know that she is fixing him.
My child, my little one, my own. He doesn’t need fixing. He needs to be loved for who he is right this minute.
As both a parent and a teacher (often of students others want to “fix”), I applaud your recognition that Daniel doesn’t need fixing but rather needs to be loved as he is and you are wise to see how this affects his behaviour.
Hooray for your ability to see so much more deeply into your child than the surface of his behavior. I need a lot more practice with this one, and reading your words…that he is a child who needs to be loved…well, thank you for posting it. Beautiful. School complicates so much.
P.S. I tried to comment twice, but am not sure it went through. If two go through, sorry about that.
If none go through, I’m sad.
Ah, shoot. Only the P.S. went through. And I had written so much! So brilliantly! So eloquently!
Why, if my comments had gone through, I think the Pulitzer would have been mine. Sigh.
Well… suffice to say that I had two questions: How old is Daniel and in what grade?
And I had a lot to say about my Daniel, now grown up, but who used to become so angry that he ran in place and slapped himself in the face. I finally withdrew him from school one year for making four teachers cry in the classroom in one week’s time. That’s my kiddo.
The point was that he’s fine now; but it took a lot to get him there, and much of it involved patience and knowing when his opportunities in a situation were shot and he was endangering his own future.
Love your blog, love your voice, love your writing!
Can you imagine what a difference place the world would be if we all loved one another for who we are this minute?
You are so clear on this! I admire your strength and ability to see YOUR child, not the one the teacher sees. Your son is lucky to have such a wise mum.
My husband and I got sucked into that “problem” view of our younger son last school year. His 4th grade teacher described him as “failing” at being a 4th grader. His crime: being a 10-year-old boy who doesn’t care about details, following the rules, and sitting still for long periods of time. We were so freaked, we started to think about testing, counseling, etc., to deal with our “problem.” Fortunately, this year his teacher is a veteran who sees his wonderfulness and the fact that he is a boy doing what boys do.
Your last paragraph says it all, and beautifully.
Every boy could use an “I don’t need fixing” t-shirt!
Good luck with the school year. Refer back to your wise post whenever there is a rough patch!
I loved your post. Your son is so lucky to have a mother who can love him for what he is right now. You might want to look at my blog and read the post, “Experts, Testing, and Misdiagnosis.” I have four different daughters who have turned out wonderfully. Thankfully, when they were younger, teachers and guidance counselors were not so determined to pin a label on them. But even so, I had so many battles with the schools, particularly for my daughter who is a human rights lawyer and political writer. Parents who have original children need to be their advocates.
Daniel may be the square peg that doesn’t fit in the round hole of school. His teachers can’t love him the way you do.
Maybe he needs to be home, with his mom, where he can be loved, appreciated, and celebrated for who he is, without others making him think there is something wrong with him.
So beautiful, Francesca… All children should be as lucky as Daniel in their parents
-Rachael
i thought your post was wonderful
and that daniel is so lucky to have you…
Indeed.
I’m happy to come fix the teacher by banging her against a concrete wall or two.
Wow, so tough. Your point of view is right as a parent…loving him is the best way. Of course, you can’t expect a teacher, any teacher (unless you have him enrolled in the Clones of Mother Theresa Academy) to love him as calmly and unconditionally as you do. She may like him very much indeed, but he is in an environment where his behavior must conform to a norm, because she also has the responsibility to teach and manage 19 or so other children equally worthy of her time and attention.
Sorry to be imp’s advocate here. I am fully sympathetic to your situation, truly, and am in similar shoes myself. Here’s a little tip: sometimes if you just tell the teacher you have an appointment for your child with a doctor (or therapist or whatever) they relax, and everything seems to go better. Even before said appointment actually takes place.
You know, true brilliance is awfully hard to manage in the classroom.
And yes, well, brilliance sometimes gets some of its odd luster from a streak of “issues”–or at least that is how I try to justify my own and my loved ones’ OCDish aspergery crazyish need-a-day-in-bed kind of symptoms….
There are times when it is useful to know how to hide one’s issues, and that does come with age.
(Off to post Mizmell’s comment on my bulletin board. She’s summarized what you’ve been saying for a long time, and ain’t it the truth.)
some people get fixated on what’s not there in a child – it’s like looking at a donut and seeing only the hole. it’s what he IS that’s important – and he sounds delicious, in his own special donut way. x
You know, turning this around, it may turn out to be for the good that Daniel is so difficult about school right now. I was good at school. I understood it, and could give teachers and the rest what they wanted. No problems here. But then, was I expressing who I was? No. I was preparing myself for a life of figuring out what other people want and giving it to them.
Which is not to say that I don’t have massive sympathy for teachers (and for you). They’re trying to do something that’s very worthwhile, and a lot of them are concerned about the whole child and not just ticking off the appropriate milestones, but “the system” is really about making round pegs for the round holes, and what do we, as individuals and as a society, lose out on when that system works?
Oh that’s true. The system loves a pleaser, and I know, I was one all through school, with my family, everyone. Full on conflict avoidance. And now I’m so tired of trying to please, and find that in reality, there are people that attack you regardless of what you do. And my spirit now wants to flail my arms and elbows around.
-Miranda
I needed to read this. Glad I foundyour blog. Gonna go get my Barbra Colorosa book…I think I missed something…lol