Right, I’m going to write something. No idea what’s going to come out so apologies in advance if this is complete rubbish. Let’s start with an anecdote to see where this goes:
Back before Christmas (which now seems a lifetime ago), I spoke to a new colleague at work for the first time and, following the usual pleasantries and expressions of incredulity at the difficulties of teaching during a pandemic, talk moved on to our families. We both have sons, although hers is a few years older than Ruben and, when asked if he was into gaming, I responded with the now well-rehearsed “he’s autistic, so he doesn’t really understand that kind of thing”. The next question was so basic and yet I was momentarily floored…
“What is he like?” and, do you know what? I hesitated. I didn’t know how to describe my son. More precisely, I didn’t know how to describe him in a few words, in a way which was honest but not too negative nor too gushy to someone who he may never even meet. I don’t even know what I actually said, probably something completely banal like “he’s lovely, lots of issues but he’s really good”. Not my finest literary moment.
Then I started wondering, how would Ruben want to be described? How would he describe himself? Would he focus on his capabilities and his weaknesses? His personality? Or maybe his appearance? Maybe I’ll ask him tomorrow.
The last few weeks have been incredibly difficult, attempting to be simultaneously a teacher and parent and feeling like neither is going particularly well. Do you know what tipped me over the edge this week though? Not hours of talking to a screen, not Year 3 reading comprehension, not trying to do housework during my lunch ‘break’. Oh no, the single worst part of this week was an EHCP review meeting with Ruben’s school which forced us to verbalise how much he is struggling with his mental health. The mask has slipped spectacularly since the start of the pandemic and anxiety is penetrating every aspect of his life which is horrible to see.
My not-so-little boy celebrated his eighth birthday a couple of months ago and, while we continue to have some good periods, things are most likely going to get more difficult; we’re in this for the long haul. There is no panacea here and absolutely zero certainty. Ruben has achieved more than we would have believed possible when he was struggling with basic communication as a four year old but it may not be enough for him to survive in mainstream school. He is the best mathematician in his year group but his lack of social awareness may mean we need to ask some tough questions about whether his current provision is actually right.
How do you describe a boy who wants so badly to please but is covered in scars because he has scratched himself so hard in moments of worry? How do you explain that he might one minute smile and laugh and the next be on the verge of tears because he is so worried about saying something wrong?
So many more questions than answers at the moment but we keep going. We wake up every day, put one foot in front of the other and try not to look too far ahead because that way madness lies.
Just pass the wine…
Maybe he's just lazy 