The eternal heartbreak of being uncool at school

This story, of an aspie boy who said he has no friends, whose mother started a Facebook profile to garner support for his birthday and show him that’s not the case, really got my today because I know what it feels like to be unpopular, and Jonah does too.

He came home two days ago with claw marks on his face. It’s not the first time he’s come home with an injury. When we start down to talk about it with the teacher, she was nonplussed but supportive, but I know kids will be kids – and often, playground bullies don’t ever really grow out of it. I also know Jonah can be difficult. He overreacts to stuff, has meltdowns and talks about things people aren’t interested in. But his heart’s in the right place. He has a strong sense of justice, and he is insightful beyond his years. He’s just not that cool.

The social pecking order is what it is. Watching a programme on chimps last night with Chris Packham reminds me that we can’t legislate against innate hierarchies. But then, we should also be capable of greater compassion than our hirsute cousins. I do my best for him, really I do. I buy him clothes from H & M, encourage him to do climbing and martial arts to help him get better at sports, although his innate loopiness, inherited from me, or more likely, his grandfather, holds him back.We talk to him about not letting kids wind him up, taking time out when he’s annoyed, and we build bridges with the kids who taunt him by inviting them round for tea because, let’s face it, he’s gonna be in class with them for a whole lotta years. But because of the apparent bossiness in the way Jonah like to direct play, and his narrow field of interest – match attack cards, or Mine-craft, even our invites are starting to be rejected.

Being a social outcast is one of life’s most painful experiences, and it is one that will be familiar to anyone afflicted with ASD. Withdrawal from society is usually the end result, but it took a whole lot of rejection for me to reach my current state of hermetism. I do yoga on my own at lunchtime, rather than experience the overwhelming emotions of casual social interaction in the office lunch room. I rarely go out – although, as a parent of ten years, I have fewer and fewer places to go. And I avoid catching up with anyone unless I have known them for years. It’s not a situation that makes me happy, but I’m not sure how else to deal with the maelstrom that accompanies the simplest  social exchange.

I get as much society as I want from Twitter and Facebook, from the safety of behind a computer screen, although even digital communication isn’t without the occasional excruciating faux pas. I hope with Jonah that because he has Ava, and he is a boy, so being social is perhaps less of an issue as he grows up and he doesn’t have to deal with fitting in with groups of girls – an experience that made my teenage years a living hell.

But witnessing his current struggles makes me relive my own playground hell, so perhaps by opening up and talking about it, I can help  Jonah – and myself –  get through his.


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