Let Them Work - A Lesson in Letting Go

Three years ago, I had the amazing opportunity to meet Temple Grandin and hear her speak. For those who might not know, Dr. Mary Temple Grandin is a professor of animal science at Colorado State University and a prominent author, with over 60 published scientific papers and multiple national bestselling books. She is an advocate of the humane treatment of animals and her work as an activist has revolutionized the slaughter industry. All of this would be impressive by itself but what makes her accomplishments extraordinary is that Temple Grandin has Autism.

So, there I was, sitting in the middle of a high school gymnasium on the edge of a metal folding chair, wearing my favorite "See the Able, Not the Label" Autism Awareness t-shirt, listening intently to what she had to say. She spoke about growing up with autism and what we can do as a community and family to support success in our kids. What she said that day CHANGED everything.

She spoke about the importance of giving kids work opportunities when they are young. She talked about having a great speech therapist that worked with her (she didn't speak until she was 4 years old) and a mom that supported her. She worked several jobs so that by the time she was in her early 20s, she knew what she wanted to do because she'd been given the opportunity to work to find out what she didn't want to do. She had been challenged growing up and she went on to speak about the importance in giving children real experiences like gardening and wood shop as classes.

And then a thought struck me. What if, in my attempts to protect my son, I was actually hindering his development? Now don't get me wrong. My desire to protect him goes WAY beyond the natural instinct to keep him away from knives, and fire, and really, really tall playground equipment. I'm talking about the kind of protection that comes from meltdowns at the grocery store while onlookers try to be "helpful" with their comments and stares or innocent, albeit hurtful comments from kids at the local pool or playground. I'm talking about the kind of protection that is developed from one too many family dinners of "Boy, he sure has a lot of energy" and the irritable "If I had known he was special needs, I wouldn't have been so hard on [you]. Yes, I want to protect him but as any good parent, I also want to give him the world.

The other question I had to consider was this: Who am I really trying to protect? You see, my son has this amazing ability to not really care about what other people think. This is something that I envy, as I have been a chronic people-pleaser for most of my life. By giving him new opportunities and new experiences, I had to admit I was opening MYSELF up for sideways glances and feelings of failure, things that he is joyously oblivious to. So that day, I decided to make a change. I was going to give him opportunities over and over again. I decided it didn't matter if today wasn't the day that he succeeded, but steps, no matter how small, were still steps towards big progress and I had to push past my own anxiety and push him out of MY comfort zone.

A few months later, I was given two tickets to the tech run of Treasure Island. These tickets are usually reserved for family members so I knew the crowd would be minimal and did I mention? The tickets were free. It was low risk but I was terrified. I loaded him up and took him over to the small local family theatre. And I did it! That summer, I took him to his first play. And I took him to the pool... a lot. And we went to the grocery store... every day.

And you know what happened? He laughed every time the Pirates yelled, "Rum!" and even though he tried out three-fourths of the spring-loaded seats in the theatre, we stayed for the full performance including pictures with Black Dog afterwards. Now his teacher talks about how his ability to sit and focus for longer periods of time has grown exponentially.

What started as a kid who would only go shin-deep in water, turned into a kid who went waist-deep, and then put his face in the water, and then his whole head to the kid who now will jump off the side of the pool going completely underwater in chest-deep chlorinated ecstasy.

And the grocery store? It gave us the chance to practice. We practiced following directions. Turn left, go right. We practiced Occupational Therapy and communication as he signed, "Cookie, please" and "Thank you" to the ladies at the bakery. We also practiced job skills as he would place items from the cart to the conveyor belt. We're still working on not setting the gallon milk jug down on the egg noodles, but he's learning! I learned that he knew A LOT of words as he would point to things he recognized from EMERGENCY on the emergency exit door to spaghetti, and Beauty painted on the wall. Over time, I've had a front row seat as he started using magnetic letters to spell and then communicate. Now he's using his amazing spelling powers to search for YouTube videos. Need a recommendation? How about one from PBS! Daniel Tiger's Neighborhood will teach you 'take a step back and ask for help' whenever you get frustrated.

Our lives have changed because he was given an opportunity to fail and by giving him that opportunity, in turn, he was also given a world of opportunities to succeed. I think that's what Dr. Grandin was getting at when she said we need to give our kids opportunities; neurotypical or not. Kids need to be challenged because without challenge and struggle, how will they learn endurance? Without failure, how can they be taught to have compassion for others? Without falling, how will they learn to get back up and keep trying, again and again and again?

Let them work. You may just give them the world.