Subscribe Via RSSHow Much Hand-Holding Does an Autistic Child Need?
Sometimes I wonder whether it’s better for parents of children with ASDs to push their children as far as they can go or take a more wait-and-see approach. This is probably something that parents often wonder about too.
My personal experience was that my family did not treat me like I was disabled or disordered in any way and set their expectations very high. Several family members are on the spectrum, so my way of being was our “normal”. After they overcame their worries that I’d be more severely affected, they focused on my academic gifts and tried to show me that I’d need to rely on those gifts to succeed in life.
Although I didn’t receive any formal social skills therapy (due to being labeled gifted in a small private school with few services), my parents made sure to give me a lot of real world experience. Many people would have called their practices harsh and probably abusive without knowing what was going on.
I don’t know why the first thing that comes to mind is all the times my mom made me do the transaction at the gas station without her. She even told me I could buy a candy bar if I went, but I would just stand outside the door and cry because I didn’t want to face the cashier. Eventually, though, I learned how to go in and say the right things at the right time. (Thank goodness I lived in an area where the people were very kind and friendly, unlike where I live now.)
Are there gentler ways to accomplish this? Sure. It was probably easier for my mom to just give in and do things herself, or not insist on pushing me so hard. But in the long run I feel it was better for me because after all the tears I actually learned how to do things without anyone holding my hand, which is what an aspie needs in order to live independently.
I’m curious what other adults experienced and how you feel about it. What would you recommend to parents for their children?
3 Responses
I am in a catch-22 in this one.
As a child with physical disabilities, I was raised not having any special treatment due to them. In fact, when I was older (middle school), I learned to tell the teacher at the beginning of the year that my records said I had to sit in a certain place (due to hearing impairments). It was a lie, because that information was never recorded. I heard it in the doctor’s office as a recommendation that was never forwarded to my teachers. When I broke my glasses, my mother sent me to school anyway, even though I ended up practically covering my nose in chalk dust to read everything on the board without the aid of anyone to read or write things down for me. I was grown before my allergies were addressed, but not before it weakened my immune system, forcing me into early disability. This kind of “school of hard knocks” learning and growing can be very difficult. Not everyone comes out strong. You and I did, but each life is different.
As the mother of an aspie son, I waver between doing too much and pulling back. I want him to be independent and understand the world he is growing up in, but I realize that even NT children suffer from the world’s cruelty and need a network and a safe zone.
Having learned to be strong and independent through the tough love of my parents, I try to at least explain why I wanted him to do things. I try to share my reasoning and my hopes for what he may accomplish. He can openly share and communicate his fears, apprehensions and concerns. He is not penalized for having them. This doesn’t make the job of helping him reach independence easier or faster, just lessens the possibility of stress adding to the mix. Depression is often a co-morbid disorder with HFA.
In some ways, this approach has helped him. In other ways, he is now ineligible for any help because he is “too high-functioning” and has no behavioral or “erratic” behaviors. He seems to reason, even when I know, it is only because it is a carbon copy of what I have said. We receive no help from DDA, and as he approached adulthood, he is about to be cast off without a paddle.
But, as his Mom, I will still be here, guiding his way and nudging him toward complete independence. Independence that may come later than mine or yours, but that will come one day, without so many tears.
The cure for depression is to reconcile it with the reasons it exists, and the lessons learned from those reasons. I recommend having him listen to the following bands:
Sisters of mercy
The cruxshadows
Assemblage 23
In strict confidence
The dreamside
Bauhaus
Etc… you can probably guess the genre by now.
My parents “made” me order for myself in restaurants. I was morbidly shy. Given that I didn’t know I was autistic (nor did anyone else, some forty years ago), all I thought I needed to do was get over being shy, and then I’d fit in at school (and everywhere else).
Looking back, my parents were great. I was clearly a quirky child, but they never once made me feel broken in any way.
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