Hey Benny? What’s New?
by Mike Postma, Coordinator, High Potential Services
Minnetonka Public Schools
It’s been a few years since the life and times
of Benny were disclosed in print and some may be wondering, “What’s become of
that boy?” or “Where is he now?” Perhaps more importantly, they may be
speculating on the health and well being of his father, formerly known as ‘that
guy who wrote such and such about the boy with the what’s it called’. Well,
I’ve been thinking about doing a follow-up piece for a while and that time has
now arrived. Benny has hit a new milestone: the dreaded teenage years. Quite
honestly, given his passion for the unexplored or the unusual, his mother and I
weren’t sure he would make it this far (did I tell you about the time he
received his first driving lesson at age three? No? If you see me, be sure to
ask). I suppose our many supplications were ultimately answered. But, then
again, many of the old challenges are still present with the addition of some
brand new ones.
For those of you unfamiliar with Benny, his early life and times are chronicled
in the shocking exposé entitled “Benny and Me: A Father Sees Himself Through
his Aspergers Son”, a story of a family wrestling with Aspergers, or
high functioning autism, as it manifested itself through father and son. It was,
and still is, a story of recognition, realization, and reaction, and ultimately,
a story of restoration and hope. Benny was a puzzle to us for many years. A
non-sleeper (he still is a night owl), he thrilled, startled, and occasionally
shocked us with his antics as a young child. You may want to review these
adventures, including his first joy ride in a police car at age four, in the
article.
As we lived these stories we were to find that Benny was different. He didn’t
assimilate to normal social environments like his chronological peers. He had
trouble adapting to surroundings outside of our home, and school…school was a
complete disaster. He flunked out of pre-school, was recommended for retention
in Kindergarten, and really struggled to settle in to elementary school. It was
only after his Kindergarten crash that we began to realize that Benny didn’t
march to the beat of a typical drummer. He had his own cadence, rhythm, and
sheet music. He had Aspergers. At that point we realize that we were not in for
a typical school journey. His intensities; his sensitivities accompanied by an
affinity for numbers and nature would dictate an unusual journey through
elementary and middle school. A journey characterized by hits and misses, ups
and downs, understanding teachers and not so understanding teachers, successes
and challenges, and perhaps most importantly an increased understanding/empathy
from those who cared for him most, his family.
Well, now Benny is thirteen. We have a new ‘R’ now and no, it is not rebellion,
role model, room service, or even retainer (I am sure that one is coming). It
could be refrigerator, but that could be the theme of a different story. It is
reticent. What we have witnessed, especially with the onset of adolescence and
all the joys that accompany it (can you say middle school, anyone?) is a pattern
of increased public withdrawing that may belie an inner turmoil of self doubt
convoluted by an increasing difficulty to relate to others on a social level
outside of the sanctity of the home. Benny has been and continues to be engaging
in a process of societal removal as he continues to struggle to make sense of
himself and the ever-changing world around him. For those closest to him, this
slow process is painful one to witness.
Life has always been a struggle for Benny. As I stated above, his early
childhood was unusual; a whirlwind of overexcitability wrapped in diminutive
bundle of flesh and bones with a penchant for exploration and danger. His early
school experiences were challenging; his diagnosis at age six an ‘aha moment’ of
revelation and realization that only partially explained the curious behavioral
patterns that Benny had exhibited even as an infant, and, his rapid growth from
a youth to young man (he is now 5’9”) can be encapsulated into two short words:
‘difficult transitions’. His complex character was always hard to gauge. An
amazingly sweet person with a passion for animals, weather, and baseball, Benny
always struggled to maintain any semblance of social dexterity, an issue that
deprived him of multiple friendships or any situation involving many people. An
amazing mathematical mind, he struggled to comprehend and apply the many
meanings of verbal and written language. In essence, Benny was, and still is, a
dichotomy; a puzzle to most; a friend to few. But then again, so was I. And
therein lies the hope; I survived, albeit with scars, and so will he. We will
survive together despite the lumps, bruises, and unforeseen challenges. We will
survive because we have family, community, and a growing understanding of
Aspergers. We will survive but not without difficulty.
Adolescence is, and always will be, a complicated time. Add a little Aspergers
and that complex period becomes an even thornier. As an adolescent with
Aspergers in the early 1980’s, I designed a number of different coping
mechanisms to deal with the odd blend of social anxiety with teenage
discomfiture. At that point in time Aspergers was an unknown term, an unfamiliar
entity, misunderstood and left untreated. “What’s your problem?” or “Just buck
up, there’s no reason you can’t… (fill in the blank)” where common expressions
used to diagnose and solve whatever it was that ailed me. I didn’t know either.
I couldn’t understand why I was math dyslexic. I couldn’t understand why I had
trouble looking someone in the eye or why I froze up in unfamiliar social
situations. I didn’t comprehend why my inability to relate to the world around
sent me spiraling into a deep depression that made life that much more difficult
to endure without understanding or proper support. Naturally, I began to develop
an expertise in diversions; some positive, some not so positive. I was very
athletic so I played sports…and more sports. Sports made me acceptable to
others, it gave me a self confidence that I could not find anywhere else, and it
taught me a semblance of how to interact with others. I also loved to read. I
can still remember whole summers that consisted of daily bike rides to the
library followed by late night adventures with Louis L’Amour, Len Deighton, Leon
Uris, and even Fydor Dostoevsky. Unfortunately, there were also some harmful
diversions. As a teen I was introduced to alcohol and found it had some rather
unique properties that enhanced my ability to speak to others, even those of the
opposite sex. It was years before I realized its true nature and the added
weight it placed on my ongoing struggle with depression. Nevertheless, it was
those three adaptations, good and bad, that carried me through my adolescence
somewhat intact. Now Benny is on that threshold.
I know he is different from me, and yet I worry. We worry, his mother and I,
about how he will fit into a world that values high brow social behavior. We
worry about good friendships and bad friendships. We worry about how he will
adapt; what mechanisms he might use to self medicate (we aren’t so naïve as to
think that at some point he won’t try one thing or another). We worry about
relationships and hormones. How does a young man with Aspergers find the
gumption, or even the skills, to be able to talk to a girl he may be interested
in? Does he understand the rules of dating? Will he know what ‘No’ means when
the hormones are actively telling him otherwise? We worry about school. Will he
make it through? How much support will he need and when will he acquire the
necessary skills to become independent? We worry about life in general. Will
those crazy sleep patterns ever normalize? Will he be able to live
independently? Will his passions become a reality? At the moment his only
sources of motivation are centered on Halo Reach (I believe he has a PhD.) and
finding Bigfoot (he wants to move to Northern California). There are a lot of
questions. Yet, we know that he must face his future somehow, some way. In the
meantime, we will have to rely on the resources we have at hand and the
community around us.
We know Benny isn’t the only one. In current position I am responsible for High
Potential Services for a suburban District located near Minneapolis, MN.
Included in the District is a magnet school for highly gifted students whose
population includes about 20% twice exceptional students, or students with
varying diagnosed disabilities combined with high innate intellect. In working
with these students day in and day out and listening to the narratives provided
by their teachers, patterns begin to emerge. For one, each 2e (twice
exceptional) child is unique, requiring distinctive approaches and resources;
some social/emotional, some academic. Another commonality is the strong need for
intellectual engagement. Despite the perceived disability, the 2e brain requires
a pace and depth of instruction in order to learn. Indeed, this strategy is an
essential component to any remedial plan designed to alleviate the disability.
Early detection and comprehensive assessment are also crucial to avoid long term
damages at both intellectually and emotionally. If we can’t find them we can’t
advocate for them. As Linda Silverman once stated,
“Twice exceptional children are often hidden from our view. Their
giftedness masks their learning disabilities and their learning disabilities
depress their IQ scores so that they appear less gifted than they really
are. These children often fall through the cracks of the system, failing to
qualify for gifted programs or for special education services.” (Silverman)
1
Indeed, the collision between the parameters of daily school requirements and
the nature of overexcitabilites, or intensities, in gifted and 2e students may
place the child on a downward spiral toward emotional impoverishment, or given
the proper understanding and accommodation, on the fast track to personal,
academic, and social triumph. Unfortunately, we learned this the hard way,
spending a fruitless Kindergarten year attempting to make sense of the way
Benny’s brain functioned, before seeking outside professional help. Benny’s
brain certainly wasn’t created for the traditional classroom. And, neither are
thousands of others. Each day we learn of the daily struggles of students, their
parents, and schools alike, trying to deconstruct the complexities that surround
the 2e child; a child smart enough to get by and even camouflage his
limitations, but failing in his inimitable potential; a child in need of
assistance.
Our collective knowledge about Aspergers has come a long way. The
research is light years ahead of where it was, even a decade ago and thus, so
are the support mechanisms. Even, just eight years ago when we were struggling
to find the right place for Benny, little was known about Aspergers in
particular, and much less on how to educate and/or support them. We now
understand the neurological makeup of the Asperger brain and its apparent lack
of ‘mirror’ neurons; a necessary tool that enables a child to read emotion or
expression or even communicate on a bilateral plane. We know that the gifted
brain develops sooner and continues to grow well past adolescence with one fatal
flaw; the depressed, or delayed, development of the limbic system used to
monitor meta-cognition, in other words impulse control and executive
functioning. We also know enough to develop educational strategies to support
this type of learner. Extra time, social/emotional support, an agreed upon
structure, complexity of tasks, transitional awareness and support, mentoring,
the building of coping capacity, alternative means of assessing, and
environmental adjustments are all important to remember in the daily routine of
kids like Benny. Are we willing? We certainly are able capable.
Benny’s faces
a tough road; a journey that only he can define for himself. With the assistance
and support of those that make up his community, he can and will succeed. With
empathy, knowledge, and understanding we can all come together to support the
Benny’s of the world and ensure their adolescence be one characterized by
happiness even while experiencing moments of doubt, fear, failure, and
temptation. The Benny’s of this world have much to offer this world but it is
and will be our job to give them the opportunity to make that difference. A keen
ear, a perceptive brain, a welcoming heart are the key ingredients listed on
that job application. In the meantime, I still maintain the right to
worry….because after all, Benny is still Benny. Did I ever tell you about the BB
Gun incident? Well, it was a bright, atypically warm fall day in November…..
1 From: Silverman, L. (2003)
Gifted Children with
Learning Disabilities: Lost Treasures. Gifted Development Center, Denver, CO.
References:
Piechowski, Michael M. & Daniels, Susan (2009).
Living With Intensity: Understanding the Sensitivity, Excitability, and the
Emotional Development of Gifted Children, Adolescents, and Adults.
Scottsdale, AZ: Great Potential Press.
Piechowski, Michael M. (2006)."Mellow
out" They Say. If I Only Could: Intensities and Sensitivities of the Young
and Bright. Madison, WI: Yunasa Books.
©Copyright 2011 Michael Postma
Thanks!
