Ann Douglas is a phenomenon, a passionate advocate of families–kids of all ages and their parents. Her essay, ”As Great as Trees” captures the period following her son’s dismissal from fifth grade just before he was diagnosed with Asperger’s.
Ian says goodbye to his classmates on a Wednesday afternoon,
three weeks into fifth grade. His classmates present him
with a piece of goodbye cake. Conveniently, his birthday has fallen
the day before, so they are able to save him a piece of the birthday
cake they ended up eating without him—the downside of being suspended
from school on your very own birthday. When the decision
to suspend him evolves into a request (nonnegotiable) that we withdraw
him, the birthday cake morphs into goodbye cake to go.
Everyone stands at the front of the classroom, while I snap a few
photos at Ian’s request. The teachers and the principal try to smile and
pretend to look relaxed, but they come across as awkward and uncomfortable
when I look at the photos later on. And as for the kids: they
are either glancing sideways at one another and snickering or standing
frozen like statues who have been asked to play themselves in some
mime version of an ordinary day at school. The boy Ian hit, resulting
in his suspension, is standing next to him, making like they’re best
buddies. Poor kid. He’s probably as confused as Ian is, if not more. I’ll
have to tag this batch of pictures “Theatre of the Absurd.”
Getting out of the building isn’t as easy as snapping the pictures.
By the time I come back for Ian’s third load of stuff—how can
anyone accumulate three loads of stuff in three weeks of school?—he
is crying. Hard. I hug him and guide him out of the school, doing
the shuffle-walk that is the only option when you’re holding on to
someone for dear life.
As we make our final exit, we pass a wall-sized bulletin board
gleaming with photos of shiny apples and the smiling faces of
every child in the school except my child. I guess he wasn’t the
right kind of apple.
Ann had concerns about her son when he was two but it took eight more years before he was diagnosed correctly. From later in the piece:
Eight years is a long time to wait to get the correct label for
your kid and even longer if you’re the little boy waiting for someone
to solve the puzzle that is your life. It means added days, weeks,
months, even years of being teased and tormented, mislabeled and
misunderstood; of having your reputation cemented in your neighborhood
and at school; of starting to believe that you’re bad or defective
or crazy—or all of the above—because you’ve heard people say
that about you often enough.(The essay continues in the print version of Gravity.)
Writers witness our own experiences. It is through reading their words that we often find our own clarity and direction. It is also through writing that one finds our way through turbulent times as Ann describes in her update:
I wrote this essay — “As Great as Trees” — a few months after my then 10-year-old son Ian was diagnosed with Asperger’s syndrome.
I was dealing with so many powerful emotions at the time; and writing the essay gave me the opportunity to start sorting through some of the confusing thoughts that were spiraling around in my head.
As I re-read it, I’m surprised the essay is as coherent as it is – although you will note, if you read it in its entirety, that I jump from scene to scene and my emotions shift just as quickly as I describe the series of events that changed everything for our family, suddenly and unexpectedly.
If I were to write this same essay today, I might be tempted to edit out some of the emotional lurches, for the sake of clarity. But that’s not how I experienced it when I was living it. I think it’s more authentic in its raw, real-time form.
Since this essay was written, I have found my parenting equilibrium again. I have connected with other parents who have kids on the spectrum. I no longer feel scared or uncertain when I think about what the future will hold for Ian or the rest of the family. How could I? He is thriving and we are living mostly happily ever after in the new normal.
Ann Douglas is the creator of the internationally bestselling The Mother of All® Books series and The Mother of All Solutions, the coauthor of The Unofficial Guide to Having a Baby and Trying Again: A Guide to Pregnancy After Miscarriage, Stillbirth, and Infant Loss, and, along with her daughters, wrote the award-winning body image book for teens, Body Talk: The Straight Goods on Fitness, Nutrition, and Feeling Great about Yourself. She contributes to numerous pregnancy and parenting magazine in addition to her own columns in Yahoo! Canada, and Conceive Magazine. Ann is the mother of four children. She lives with her family in Canada.
2 Comments
What Ann doesn’t mention is that through this time, she was obviously a little fragile, but never brittle – and as her friend, I never saw her as anything but firm, loving, kind, and ready to take the next step with Ian. She is such a fantastic mom, and I don’t believe her disclaimer “I’m not a parenting EXPERT, I’m a parenting AUTHOR” for a second.
Anne we met at Kathy’s book launch and I had no idea you have a son on the spectrum. I am the one with 6 children, 2 who have aspergers. I can totally relate to what you have been through as it took over 8 years to have my oldest diagnosed, even though I had been taking him to specialists beginning when he was 18 months. 8 years of hell that I refused to have my younger son endure. Thank goodness I already had my eldest diagnosed because it made it that much easier to have my younger son looked at and given a diagnosis.
You are an amazing woman and I can only iomagine how much more difficult it must have been for you given your profession, and how others must have behaved differently because of it.
I can’t wait to go buy the book and read these wonderful stories. Thank you for sharing.
Chantel