More Astute Than Obtuse

I've been thinking about social skills lately, and how much they impact our children's lives.  Sometimes I feel confident that with enough direct instruction and practice even the most socially awkward child can succeed and have healthy relationships.  At other times, though, it seems like the hard work of teaching, learning, and generalizing social skills just isn't enough.  I can have a child who has mastered basic social skills, but unless someone is willing to get to know her and become friends with her, the skill set seems inadequate and incomplete.

When I see a child who naturally picks up appropriate social skills and relates easily to others, there's a part of me that feels a bit envious.  My child has to work excruciatingly hard to learn skills that develop effortlessly for others.  On top of that, I think children who struggle in this area need a friend even more than those for whom relationships come easily but often find themselves alone in social settings.  I look at the families who just seem to sail through developing new relationships on a regular basis and I wonder what that would be like.  I want to prompt the parents to be thankful and not take their child's social skills for granted, but I know if I didn't have a child with obvious deficits in this area I wouldn't give a second thought to his social skills, either. 

         

When my son was young, he did not make eye contact.  He didn't feel the need for it, since he could hear everything just fine without looking at the person who was speaking.  Over time he learned that other people expected him to look them in the eyes, so he worked hard to discipline himself to meet that need.  He went from one extreme to the other during the learning phase, changing from no eye contact to staring unblinkingly at his conversation partner's eyes.  This was perhaps more unsettling to others than the original lack of eye contact had been, so once again my son worked to make changes in the way he connected with people.

Despite his determination and ongoing efforts to relate with others, my son struggled with the unspoken rules of interpersonal exchange and many viewed him as simply obtuse.  The dictionary defines obtuse as "not quick or alert in perception, feeling or intellect; not sensitive or observant."   This was his starting point.  Considering how very many discreet skills he needed to learn to improve his overall social skills what he accomplished was truly impressive.  Even so, I continued to observe other children who called my son derogatory names and who avoided his attempts to interact with them.  When his peers did include my son in play, more often than not it was to cast him in the role of monster or bad guy and then they ran from him, screaming.

It is no wonder that some of the children who struggle socially just want to give up or in frustration decide that most other people are not worth relating to anyway.  The rewards are so minimal in comparison to the effort these children exert trying to learn to relate in ways that do not come naturally for them.  With little apparent success they persevere and wish for friends who genuinely like them, and for insight into the baffling hidden curriculum of social exchange.  It seems that everyone else is in on the secrets of how to relate to others while the struggling child works to understand and interpret mysterious and unspoken rules that exclude and elude them.

       

My son worked with remarkable resiliency to be successful in social interactions.   He became an astute observer as he watched for changes in facial expression and tone of voice the way a scientist studies an experiment.  It seemed as if my son were a stranger in a foreign land, immersed in a language and culture that were unnatural to him.  Gradually and with many bumps along the way, he learned to recognize how others expressed their thoughts and feelings.  My son, who was always caring and sensitive, learned to relate in ways that were more easily recognized by those around him.  He picked up on subtle differences in my facial expressions and would ask if everything was okay.  When I sighed, he would check in with me to see if I was upset about something or perhaps just tired. 

My son, and many like him, learn to improve their social skills and overcome their social struggles. There are occasional setbacks and disappointments but they manage to at least get by and develop genuine relationships.  Some who struggle socially will only achieve a modicum of success, while others will become fluent in the language of social skills.  Even for those who appear to be fluent, though, they are like second-language learners who have remarkably mastered the skills necessary to be successful in a foreign culture.

The Real Social Security

It’s hard to avoid, especially when you are a child. You read about it, hear others talk about theirs, and are prompted to write, talk and answer questions about it. What is the subject of this insidious obsession? A best friend. Doesn’t everyone have one?

Don’t get me wrong, I think best friends are wonderful. What I have difficulty with is the emphasis expressed to children about the need for one. The question, “Who is your best friend?” assumes that the child has one very special friend. Writing about what you like to do with your best friend is easy - if you actually have one. If you don’t, then the perception can be that something is lacking and you should try to obtain a best friend as soon as possible.

There are many wonderful children’s books describing the shared adventures of best friends. As a child I had the impression that everyone was supposed to have a best friend and if you didn’t, something was wrong with you. I felt the pressure to latch on to somebody so that I could have a ready answer when asked who my best friend was. Having a “best friend” was my goal, and I wasn’t particularly discerning in my selections.

In kindergarten, my best friend was Mike because he and I shared the same birthday and he gave me some pennies one time. In first grade, my best friend was Darryl, a blonde-haired, blue-eyed boy who held my hand under the table during music class and showed me how his eyes crossed when he took his glasses off. I thought that was so cool! After first grade Darryl’s family moved away so I had to find a new best friend and some other lucky person got to see Darryl’s crossed eyes.

There was an unspoken pressure to find a best friend replacement whenever the previous relationship cooled for any reason. By late elementary school, everyone understood that if you had a best friend you would have a seat saved for you even if you and your best buddy weren’t next to each other in line. There would be a spot reserved for you as your best friend placed a hand on the chair beside her and informed any would-be interlopers that the seat was saved. Before the teacher finished saying “Find a partner” for an activity, you and your best friend already knew you would pair up together. No one else even bothered asking you to be a partner since everyone understood that you would be with your best friend. You and your number one pal never had to wonder who you would eat lunch with or talk to at recess. Having a best friend was a relational social security that offered the assurance you would always have someone around.

For a child who struggles socially, making any friends let alone a best friend can be difficult. It’s complicated, because most of us have no idea how to teach our kids social skills that come naturally for most people. When you see your child try unsuccessfully to join a group or make a new friend, it is heartbreaking. How much should you try and intervene? You can’t make friends for your child, but sometimes your child doesn’t seem to be able to make a new friend by herself. Unless you’ve held a lonely child in your arms, knowing how badly he wants to have a friend but isn’t experiencing successful relationships it is hard to understand just how devastating it can be for that child and his parent.

I’m afraid that some of that need for social security through having a best friend can follow us into adulthood. For example, my daughter got to know a girl in our homeschool support group and the two of them really hit it off. They had a lot in common and enjoyed being with each other. The new friend’s mother had been college roommates with another homeschool mom in the group, and those two mothers had already decided that their daughters would be best friends. My daughter watched as the other two girls were shuttled to each other’s houses for play dates and signed up for classes together at the local parks and recreation programs without a backward glance.

These moms were not being deliberately unkind or exclusive. They were trying to give their daughters the kind of social security they had valued when they were growing up. There were quite a few moms in my homeschool support group who would not sign their children up for sports or other group activities unless their child’s best friend would be in the same group. The child with a best friend does not have to make an effort to include another child, because socially they are set. The child without a buddy in the group is more motivated to find another child who is at loose ends socially.

I tried to teach my children to look around and notice who might need a friend, and make an effort to include them. I was no doubt more sensitive to this than most, because I was a mother of one of the socially isolated children. Can you imagine the depth of sadness a parent feels when they are the only friend their child has? Truly, a good friend is an incredible blessing.

I get to know quite a few moms during my speaking engagements and my speech therapy practice. I’ve met some incredible women who agonize over their children’s lack of good relationships. Some children act in atypical ways because of their challenges such as autism or attention deficit disorder. Their moms work hard to teach them social skills, but their children continue to struggle and after awhile they are no longer invited to group social events because they are “different” and their behaviors make others uncomfortable. Now, in addition to isolated children there are increasingly isolated mothers.

As much as I’d like to believe it is the rare exception when an adult loses friendships because of her child, I know from personal experience that it happens frequently. Moms of special needs children need extra support, but often end up with less support because of their child’s differences that set him apart in a negative way. It’s a cycle that deserves to be interrupted.

This whole “best friend” situation can perpetuate the exclusion of those without one particular best friend. Maybe we could teach our children that even if they have a best friend they can still be friends with others and include them. Adults, even if your social needs are adequately met, I can guarantee you that there is someone in your life who longs to experience even a little of the camaraderie you share with your best friends. You and your child may not feel the need to add another friend to your life, but please look around anyway because someone undoubtedly needs your friendship. Can you share your social security with someone in need? If so, you just might change their lives – and teach your child how to love like Christ does along the way.

Say What?

I love talking with my son, Josh. He has such interesting perspectives and the way he verbally expresses himself gives me insight into how he thinks and processes information. When he was young, Josh had some difficulty remembering words so he would use descriptions to get his point across. He once described his ankle as "you know, that part that's like the wrist of your leg". He tended to use vague words such as "thing" and "that" rather than specific word labels. Despite the circumlocutions, I could always tell what Josh was talking about. Since Josh struggled to recognize many nonverbal signals and had to be taught how to use appropriate body language when he interacted, I could never take it for granted that Josh would just pick up on social cues and be able to express himself adequately. He could learn how to interact with other people, but he had to be taught specific discrete skills for social interactions. For my daughters, social skills came naturally and they just seemed to intuitively know how to relate to others. For Josh, it was like being in a foreign land where everyone else seemed to know the language but he struggled to learn basic communication and was vulnerable to being frequently misunderstood. I did speech therapy with Josh to work on conversational turn-taking, topic maintenance, and nonverbal ways to let a listener know he was interested. Unfortunately, Josh often was not interested in what others wanted to talk about, so then I had to teach him about being polite and a good friend by sometimes letting someone else take the conversational lead. Once Josh had some of the basic skills for social interaction and was able to express himself more effectively, he continued to practice and fine tune his communication exchanges. I noticed that Josh often did not respond when given a compliment. Outside of the family, Josh didn't get many positive comments so he didn't really know how to respond when it happened. I talked to Josh about possible responses and we role-played several situations together. After our practice session I reminded Josh that he had lots of strengths worthy of compliments so it was good that he was learning how to respond to them. Josh informed me that "Vanity was never my strongest weakness." Say what? After some probing (they don't call me the Momster for nothing) I was able to help Josh expand his message so that I could understand what he meant. His intention was to indicate that although he was aware that he had many significant challenges, being vain was not one of them. Therefore, he needed some help in learning how to respond to compliments. Even today, Josh comes up with some unique responses that catch me by surprise. Just this morning our dogs were playing and one of them ran over and stood next to me. I said, "Look, Josh, she's on base." After a brief pause, Josh jokingly said, "Then I'll be lead guitar." Say what? Translation: "base" sounds like "bass" as in a type of guitar. What's a band without both bass and lead guitars? Josh was making a play on words, and at least now he understands what I say and makes a deliberate choice to joke and say funny things.

Social Skills and Proximity Friends

My son, Josh, is an introvert. In many ways, this is a blessing. It means that he’s not necessarily lonely just because he is alone. He is comfortable being with himself, and by himself. He also likes people, and enjoys spending time with them. It’s just that socializing is not a pressing need for Josh, and it drains his energy after awhile. From a very early age, Josh struggled with social nuances. He didn’t feel the need to make eye contact, and his facial expressions often gave no clue as to what he was thinking or feeling. He had to work to learn to read body language, tone of voice, facial expressions, etc. It did not come naturally for him, and the effort he exerted often yielded small returns. Here is just a glimpse of what he experienced as he grew up.

Imagine trying to say the right thing, and using the correct words, but still being rejected because somehow you said it wrong and offended someone. Imagine going up to a group of children and asking if you can play with them, only to have them ignore you and run away to play with each other. Then watch as within moments another child approaches the group and is instantly included in their play. You don’t know what you did wrong. You tried to do as you had been taught. You realize that somehow others know things about interacting and making friends that you don’t know, and these secret rules are frustratingly out of reach. How should you proceed? An adult shows interest in you and says you are friends, so you invite her over to play and she gives you an odd look and goes to talk to your Mom. Other adults seem to do that a lot, and Mom just looks sad and kind of baffled. Doing what came naturally to you didn’t work. Using the social skills you rehearsed and practiced with your Mom didn’t work. Your Mom seems to be the only real friend you have, and while you’re appreciative it’s still hard not having friends your own age. Real friends, not like the forced ones in the group your parents have to pay for you to attend, with other kids who don’t really get the unwritten rules of social skills any better than you do. You want friends, so you try and try again. You’d like to think of yourself as optimistic and resilient, but others view you as a pest who can’t take a hint. What hint? They never actually came out and said anything, so how are you supposed to know what you are doing that bothers them? Or maybe it’s something you are not doing, that they think you should be doing. It’s all so confusing. People say you are too blunt, but you say things as you see them and are truthful. Others talk around the point, but never just come out with it. Maybe they don’t want to hurt your feelings, but it hurts more when things build up and you don’t even realize it until it’s too late and you’ve lost another potential friend and truly don’t understand what went wrong. Sure, you have proximity friends. Those people who say hi to you and ask how you are. By now you’ve learned they don’t really want to know how you are so you just tell them “fine”. That’s how people do it, right?

You join a small group of other guys at your church, thinking the smaller group might help you actually develop relationships. You care about these guys. But although they spend time with each other throughout the week, you are rarely invited to join them. You plan something at your house and invite them, but they all have excuses why they can’t make it. You’ve been told you are intelligent, kind, caring, and creative. But somehow a “weird” or “quirky” vibe seems to trump all that. Gradually you come to accept that the true friendships you develop will be rare, and you will treasure them at a deeper level than those for whom relationships come easily. You will enjoy your proximity friends during those brief interludes when your paths cross. You will continue to make attempts at speaking the social language of those around you. It will always be something of a mystery to you, why some reject you and others will be friends. You learn to appreciate the friends without having to understand the reasons why.

You have a lot to offer.

Some people allow you to show just how much.