Our problem is when he interacts with much younger children. He gets upset easily with them when they don’t “play fair” or when they don’t listen to him when he knows better (he’s older, so he always knows things they don’t). It’s certainly obnoxious and occasionally unkind, and we intervene if it gets out of hand and separate the kids.
When he’s calmer, we work on coping techniques and different ways for him to respond. He has made a lot of progress, and we are lucky to have a number of understanding friends and family. Unfortunately, many other parents are furious if their children are involved in the slightest amount of conflict with him. They jump in quickly, calling my son cruel or telling him to respect all opinions (example: a 5-year-old insisting that unicorns are real). This does not work with an 11-year-old who insists on the facts!
I’m not sure how to respond to this. It’s upsetting to me that they have so little grace available to a child who is struggling and doing his best. I can’t imagine demonizing any child to protect my own, and it seems like these parents are doing just that. These are supposed to be adults who care about my child, too!
Frustrated: Thank you for writing in; it sounds like you have a wonderful (and wonderfully misunderstood) son. You have a couple of issues here: your son’s intensity, black-and-white thinking and interactions with young children, as well as your growing frustration with other parents’ reactions to him. Of course you are defensive of your son; you know his heart isn’t malicious, but all the other parents see is a “big kid” arguing with their little one about unicorns. And while your son isn’t cruel, he is at the age where he is expected to understand that little kids still believe in magic and not argue that point. While it isn’t fun to watch other parents lose their temper with your child, I have empathy with their standpoint, too.
You are aware that your son is struggling: He has support at school with a social worker, and you are working on these issues at home, but it’s time for more action. You don’t mention a specific diagnosis, so I recommend a full neurological assessment. I don’t say this casually; I know they are expensive and laborious. Descriptions like, “unflinchingly honest and opinionated,” “will not drop a subject he feels strongly about,” “easily frustrated,” big feelings around fairness and his difficulty calibrating his reaction to young children all point to something more than a “strong personality.”
To be clear, the testing and a diagnosis don’t immediately change things for you or your son, but I am hoping they can move your son from “coping” to proactively living. Not so long ago, intense children like your son were just handled. Most of the therapeutics were focused on “normalizing” him, making him fit in with the rest of society. Slowly, our culture is beginning to understand that neurodiversity is the norm, not the outlier, and that children don’t need to be shamed, cajoled, medicated or therapized to be like others. This doesn’t mean that therapy and medications don’t have a place; they do, it just doesn’t have to be an either/or. I want more for both of you than just coping.
A diagnosis or diagnoses, while overwhelming at first, will also offer more specific interventions that focus on being proactive rather than reactive. For example, social stories are a technique where you would very specifically focus on your son’s interaction with young children (the arguing specific points, for example). You and your son will answer questions such as when and where the behavior you are looking to change occurs, who is involved, what to do in the situation instead and why people behave in certain ways, while focusing on your son’s unique viewpoint. For instance, when your son is playing with 4-year-old Ralph, and Ralph insists that unicorns exist, and your son tries to convince Ralph that unicorns are not real. Because Ralph is young, he believes in magic and rather than fight with him, your son can talk about horses (cousin to the unicorn) or another animal with one horn (Indian rhinos, for instance). Specific social stories allow your son to shine in his knowledge of rhinos while also considering the needs of a younger child in not arguing the details.
Another benefit of a diagnosis is that you can say to parents: “My son, Andy, has [diagnosis] and he doesn’t always understand the nuances of what younger children may need. We are using tools to help him navigate. Is it okay if I explain this to your young children?” This way, you are advocating for your son, letting the parents know you care about their child and welcoming everyone into the world of neurodiversity. If we want other parents to do better, we also have to be ready to help them. Support groups made of families facing the same challenges can be a huge benefit, too, and can offer much hope. Good luck.