My Labels Opinion: Not Just a Bird, It's an Eagle

I'm tired of hearing people say "I hate labels" when in actuality, our society thrives on labels.  On our clothes, on our cars, on our neighbourhoods, you name it.  So why then, is it wrong to put an ASD (autism spectrum disorder) label on your child?  I've never understood this.  It is necessary to get the help you need for your child to thrive but it's almost taboo.  And sure enough, any time you do talk about an assessment or diagnosis, someone has to say "I hate labels".  If the child is on the honor roll, or an athlete, or a musician, parents are sure to point out those labels.  I wish I didn't require the labels that my boys have, but in truth, you get no help if they have no label.  Sometimes even with a label you get ignored.  To get what my boys need to deal with their behaviour or their challenges, we need a label.  Yes, every child is different and they are all unique, I get it, but why is there so much debate over labeling kids on the spectrum?  Why is there so much stigma?  Growing up no one got a label and a lot of those kids, now people, fell through the cracks.  They were ignored as bad kids instead of kids that need something to thrive.  Statistics show that a huge majority of what would be considered some of the most brilliant minds the world has ever known were on the spectrum, aspergers most often.  Let's see, Hans Christian Andersen, Emily Dickinson, Albert Einstein, Charles Richter, Glenn Gould, Thomas Jefferson, Stanley Kubrick, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, Isaac Newton, Andy Warhol, W.B. Yeats, Jonathan Swift, just to name a few.  Why wouldn't I want to link my child with the greatness of these people?  Oh, I get it, because it isn't aesthetically pleasing.  Aspergers or any ASD isn't always pretty.  But it is necessary to know what is going on with your child so you can help your child.  I often see children that have so much to give, but they are blocked by the ignorance of their parents.  Mom and Dad don't want to admit that their child isn't ... normal.  Well, here is the news, normal is just normal.  There are plenty of others as well, great minds, steered in the wrong direction, like Hitler, Jeffery Dahmer, Ted Bundy, Charles Manson, eck, I won't even continue this list.  Was it ignorance to their needs that led them astray?  Perhaps. 

We have known for some time that our boys were not normal.  I remember the day Aaron changed.  Engraved in my memory and it always brings me tears.  Not because I require him to be normal, but because being anything but normal brings some hardships that nobody wants their child to endure.  I cried for three days when I was given Adam's official diagnosis just a few months ago.  Knowing something and hearing that it is true is gut wrenching.  I'm tired of getting the sympathetic "I'm sorry" and having to explain what aspergers is and having to reassure other people that my boys will be okay in the long run.  Right now, in the midst of it, is hard.  Harder than most would even want to know, but their futures are lined with silver.  There will be down days for them.  Finding their place in society will be their most difficult task, but they will live lives of great men.  How can I say that?  Because I believe it.  Because I give them tools everyday to deal with challenges bigger than them.  Because it is their fate.  They were given these labels because they are unique.  Because they have more to give.  I am especially tired of people thinking they need to convince me that my boys are fabulous and so special.  I know that already.  I don't believe it is the aspergers that causes them so much duress, I believe it is the world's perception of aspergers that causes the duress.  It will forever be difficult to fit a square peg in a round hole.  If the label isn't the popular choice, it seems to always be the wrong choice.  Greater minds than ours are what make progress in this world, but we stiffle them rather than embrace what they truly are.  We only want to reap the rewards of those minds, we don't want to see them at work.

I hardly feel qualified to provide my boys with the tools necessary to achieve their goals.  But somehow I've been chosen to do this and it teaches me so much.  It changes me everyday.  Some nights when everyone has gone to sleep, I just sit there in the dark and be still.  Just waiting for the new me to catch up with the physical me.  Waiting for the energy of the day to stop and the metamorphosis happen.  Mind you, sometimes I just cry because it is very overwhelming and my body can't do anything else at that moment but release.  Crying is the easiest release.  Sometimes  I just sit in stunned silence and breathe.

I was explaining snow rainbows to the boys this morning, which is so very cool to see.  How the sun knows it's not raining on the earth, but there is a cloud or two that has a lot of water in them, so the sun let's those clouds do what they must and we get to see what that looks like, but only if we are paying attention.  Snow rainbows aren't big, but they are there and those that are looking get the treat of seeing them.  After witnessing it this morning, Adam tells me when we get to school.  "Mommy, I was watching that snow rainbow and I'm thinking.  Why am I me?  Why am I myself?  Completely me.  My body works on it's own.  My brain works on it's own.  Why?"  How to answer this and he demands an answer.  Trying to understand, I have to ask, "What do you mean?  Why can you have your own thoughts and function on your own without someone making it work like a robot?"  Yes he says.  So I told him, "You have a purpose in life.  You were given free will to accomplish what you need to.  No one can tell you what that is or how to do it.  You were given your mind, your body, your soul, your heart to find that and do it."  He was satisfied.  He is 6.

Wow, I think it's safe to say I have an opinion.  This wasn't the blog I was going to write today.  I was going to explain how awesome it was to go to the wave pool with Jake and the boys this weekend.  We had fun and not a lot of issues.  It was a new experience and we always try to set them up for success and it was pretty successful.  Aaron felt very brave, which was awesome, but then kept trying to run away from me.  Spent a lot of his time trying to go and do his own thing, which is fine at a certain distance, but then the smallest thing would have him running back to me.  If I'm not close enough, he would have melt down.  It's scary stuff.  Be close, but not too close.  I was also going to blog about Adam's friend's birthday party experience.  He didn't have us or Aaron there with him and I gave the mom my number to call if he needed anything.  Made sure to let her know he has aspergers.  Had to explain what it was.  Got a call about 1 1/2 hours in.  He was in the washroom crying and wanted his mom.  He didn't feel like he could wipe his bum himself and do a good enough job.  Yes I know.  He's sensitive about it and they didn't have the right toilet paper for him.  Yes I know.  I came, he had calmed down and was having fun by the time I got there.  So I let him keep playing and just stayed there with him, on the insistence of the parents.  But of course, heard a few of their adult friends talking about the boy in the dark blue shirt.  It's frustrating and heartbreaking.  Adam always wins over the room though.  Everyone singing Happy Birthday and he's the boy who gets them all singing cha cha cha after every line of the song.  He's the one heckling the magician.  He's the one using his manners and thanking the mom for inviting him.  That was the blog I was going to write.

The blog I did write came from my drive home from the school this morning.  After discussing my boys with a dear friend at the school and some label issues we have had recently, I was lost in thought and contemplation when I stopped to watch a baby eagle and a mama eagle in the trees by our house.  Two more eagles landed in the tree next to them.  I always tell the boys that seeing an eagle is good luck.  I have always felt a connection to them.  So in contemplating my conversation with my friend, it dawned on me, that even an eagle is not just a bird, nor does it have the desire to be just a bird, it's an eagle, it's proud of it, you can see it, an eagle doesn't care if you believe it is more than a bird, it is majestic.  You can never just call an eagle a bird.  Never.  I dare you.  It just feels wrong.  It's an eagle.  My boys are not just boys and they need to be proud of that too.  I need to make sure they know that not conforming to what is expected but doing what feels right is a better label to wear and they need to be proud of it, just like an eagle.