Head wound and circle of friends

Well, yesterday, I was sitting at soccer, watching TH and hearing a couple of kids call him "jerk" and yell, "I hate you" at him when I got a call from the mom who was having Dubya over for a playdate with his bestest friend ever. Seems that Dub and his friend were playing "Beavers," by which they really do mean the furry paddle-tailed animals and it is truly one of the weirdest things I've ever encountered--and Dub accidentally dropped a weight on his friend's head...and split it open. Blood everywhere. The friend sobbing, scared, in pain. Dubya terrified, horrified, freaked out. The child is fine--he had to get two staples in his head--but Dubya was teary-eyed about it the rest of the evening. We took the child one of Dubya's favorite Lego sets and a "sorry" note that he wrote that read, "Dear 'Bestest Friend Ever,' I am so sorry. Love, Dubya."

And this morning, I had the meeting with the school counselor and Ms. SEC about talking to each and every second-grade class about TH in pursuit of recruiting a "Circle of Friends" for him. I brought a PowerPoint slide set with pictures of TH doing the things he loves most: studying nature close up, collecting bugs, crabs, leaves, playing on the beach, riding a roller coaster, doing art, playing chess. I also included pictures of his hugging his baby brother and helping his brothers. I want to humanize TH for these children, let them know that he may have some things in common with them that they could enjoy doing and that he's able to be a kind, helpful little guy. There's also a video of TH doing his "grabbing" thing with his baby brother; the presenters are going to use this to explain to the kids that when TH grabs, he does it because he likes the person he's grabbing, not because he's trying to hurt them.

They're also going to explain, on a second-grade level, why he doesn't ever know where his arms and legs and head are, why he says odd things or makes unusual noises, how he can't tell a teasing laugh from a "not enjoying this so much" laugh from a real laugh of delight. To him, a laugh is a laugh. And they're going to have permission slips should any children want to volunteer to be a friend to TH, to support him as a peer. TH cannot figure out how to let these kids know the good things about him, so we're hoping that this facilitation will usher that along. I considered something like this when he went into kindergarten, but we opted not to do it because we didn't want to predispose opinions about him. Now, I wish we had advocated more for him early on.

We may not have any takers on the permission slips. I don't know. The point of this program is to faciliate the child's ability to have a peer support network, rather than an adult support network. It's not to have children pity him or become teacher's helpers who work with him, but to facilitate finding real connections between him and some of the children so that the interaction--and the benefits from it--are a two-way street. If no child steps up to volunteer, the counselor has a few in mind who she thinks would be good friends to TH and for whom TH could also be a friend. I have to draft the permission letter, thinking of ways to explain all of this to a parent considering allowing his or her child to participate.

D-Day--or Circle of Friends Day--is next week. I'm going to attend each of the five presentations. I know it's going to be painful to hear what some of the children say about him. But I hear it all the time, anyway, so I hope I'm inured. It may be that hearing it five times over could be a bit much. But I'm also going to stay positive and hope that when these children hear TH's story, see his personal narrative, listen to what these adults describe, that we will have for him a circle of willing friends, children whose empathy may lead them to join a circle around our son.