A Regular Boy

Tuesday, April 21, 2020



The social group started on a Monday.  It was supposed to go from 4:30-6:30, but I planned on him only lasting about an hour.  Jen, the woman that does Coleman’s home services, was going to go with him. Katy thought it might help to have her there, at least initially, to help Coleman stay calm in the group.  And Jen had already proven to us how well she could get Coleman to do things with just the right amount of pushing and letting go.   And so, with our fingers crossed, Jen took Coleman’s hand and into the school they stepped. 

It was a little chaotic as every gathering of 12 and 13 year olds is.  There were roughly 10 or 12 other kids there, and after introductions, Katy had them work on a bonding activity:  to make an imaginary city.  There was a large craft table in the center of the room on which was laid a giant poster.  They were to make the city using anything they could find in the room, which was littered with everything from craft supplies and markers to Legos and wood pieces.  It was an exercise in imagination, and the kids scrambled around the room in a flurry of activity, talking and gluing and drawing and creating.  Coleman was soaking it all in, walking the perimeter of the room as he usually does, repeating small bits of phrases he heard as he passed, thrilled with the energy and excitement of the room.   Some of the kids asked him to help, and he maybe picked up a matchbox car and put it on the table, but that was likely the extent of his creative participation.  Not at all like the rest of this crafting family J   Still, despite his small input on the creative side, he found great joy in just being there, and smiled widely the entire time.  I arrived after the first hour, but stayed unseen in the hallway, occasionally sneaking a peek in at him.  He stayed the full two hours easily and, when it was over and he came into the hallway to see me, the first thing he said was “You can go to Social Group again tomorrow?”  J

I noticed, and Jen agreed, the kids were generally much ‘higher functioning’ than Coleman.  I hate to use those terms, since all kids have different strengths and weaknesses that aren’t always apparent – and one that can seem ‘high functioning’ may desperately struggle in other less obvious ways.  But even the level of conversation here was noticeable.  And understanding the abstract idea to create an imaginary city – wholly beyond something I think Coleman could understand.  But there was no doubt he loved it.  As we prepared to leave, Katy said she’d give me a call to talk about how it went. 

As we drove home I started to worry that Katy would think the fit just wasn’t good.  She wouldn’t be wrong, but the fit didn’t matter so much to me.  Even if Coleman didn’t quite get what was going on, he loved being there.  It was exactly the social interaction he was craving.  By the time Katy called I was a nervous wreck.  She said, after a few minutes, “I don’t think this is quite the right group for Coleman.”  You’d be proud that I held it together and didn’t burst into sobbing at that very moment like a four year old.  I said I understood but was disappointed because I could tell he really enjoyed it.   Katy said “I know he enjoyed it.  I could tell.  And I was impressed by how well he did.  But I think a slightly older group – kids closer to Coleman’s own age – would be better.  And if it’s ok with you, I’ve reached out to some of my former students, and I’d like to do a small group specifically for Coleman.”

I don’t even need to tell you anymore.  Knowing that this woman was going to go out of her own way and create a group just for my boy is the beginning and the end.  She did just what she said and that social group last summer was the absolute best and greatest thing Coleman has done in a very, very long time.  And the boys that did it with him?  Solid gold.  I am grateful every single second of the day for what Katy and those boys gave to Coleman:  a chance to be a regular boy.  And my God did he love it. 

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