The good, the bad, and the indifferent; Autism and social cues

“I don’t know why you say it is hard making friends.  I think it is SO easy!” Declan stated halfway through a Rice Krispie treat. 

We were sitting poolside in the shade.  Declan sat on his American Flag towel, criss-cross applesauce pondering his next chewy bite. 

Minutes earlier, Declan was trailing behind a boy Declan had determined a friend until he was told politely, “I want to play alone with Evan now.”  To which Declan shrugged and decided it was time for a snack.

The pool this summer has been filled with numerous social opportunities.  Declan has found some excellent pool playmates.  When they are there, I will sit with a smile, watching him have fun.

He’s also found some not so good pool playmates. 

A boy standing poolside with arms crossed apathetically declared Declan did NOT tag him in a game of pool tag.  To which, Declan threw down his noodle and began to shove the boy, adamantly asserting the TRUTH in his tag. 

When a girl became annoyed by Declan, she punched him.  Equally annoyed with her, Declan punched her back.  The scenario continued until the two could be separated. 

After being repeatedly splashed in the face by another boy, Declan declared his intent to punch the boy directly in the mouth and break his teeth– loudly and repeatedly.

Declan calls those days, “Bad pool days.”

In between the good and the bad lay a different beast.

The indifferent.

Declan joining a group of pool jumpers, yelling, “Hey!  Guys!  Look at my jump!” When no one turns their head.

Floating outside a social group yelling, “Hey!  Guys! Look at me, float!”

Joining a group of racers to not even count as coming in last as he wasn’t included in the first place.

The jumps don’t stop.  The floating doesn’t stop.  The call remains the same and echoes through the air:

“Hey! Guys! Look at me!”

But no one looks.

Utterly undeterred by his peer’s indifference, Declan has even taken his Rice Krispie treat snack and sat just outside a group of snackers.

Feeling socially confident, Declan even engaged children visiting a neighbor on the street.  They declared their intent to play Pokemon Go with Declan but disappeared inside their house.  Declan waited for their return for over an hour, until the sunset, coming inside with a shrug.

Declan meets ALL this indifference with a shrug.  It doesn’t inhibit his attempts to play, “join,” or stay with a group that is not paying attention to him.

He doesn’t see it.  His inability to read social cues protects his feelings.

But I see it.  And it is the kind of stuff that breaks your heart.

It’s the last week of summer break.  The big kids are filling their final hours with friends and sports while Declan has good, bad, or indifferent pool days, me sitting poolside, coaching from the corner.  As much as I would love to skip these awkward moments, they are all social opportunities for him.  Next week he returns to the online learning world, where social opportunities will end.  He will return to weekly social skills training through a computer screen.  He will be presented with social scenarios that never quite fit a real-life social situation.

I AM thankful for the lessons.  Declan has learned a lot and is, by far, my most polite and thoughtful child, having been socially trained from such a young age.  But reading indifference is a social cue not yet learned which, for now, is fine by me.

Declan is walking with a socially confident swagger.  He feels like a master friend maker. As awkward as some social situations can feel for me, I am really proud of him.  His confidence and courage are outstanding and admirable, especially by me, who lacks both.  Declan can teach me a thing or two, that’s for sure.