Just the Middle School Blues?
December 15, 2008 by Kristina Chew, PhD
Filed under Health
My son Charlie is, as I’ve noted here, 11 1/2 years old. He’s been attending middle school since September and it hasn’t been easy, and we’ve started to get the feeling that it’s not going to get easier. Charlie is in a self-contained classroom, located in a large middle school in our school district. There are three other boys—all older than him by a year or two, and all shorter than him—a teacher, and four aides in the room. He starts the day with Adapted Physical Education (APE) around 8.30am) and has speech therapy briefly with a speech therapist most days of the week. An occupational therapist sets up programs on specific skills, like writing and washing his face, that he works on throughout the day. He has a really good teacher and behavior consultants regularly visit the classroom. Charlie’s teacher and I email each other daily, sometimes a couple of times a day.
He does all right generally, but, for the past few weeks, he seems to be having one “incident” per day, in which he grabs at someone or throws himself down on the ground or tries to hit his head. Sometimes it happens because his classroom gets very noisy and, with his increased sensitivity to sound, he just can’t take it at some moments. Other times—as when he threw himself down on the sidewalk while on a walk outside last week—it’s less clear.
Charlie’s academic progress has always been slow and painstaking. He’s now writing both his first and last names and can write most letters of the alphabet (s seems to be particularly challenging), counting money, doing single-digit arithmetic with a calculator. Unlike the other boys in his class, Charlie is not interested in watching videos on a break (they have a TV set and headphones) and is minimally interested in the computer. It has been good that more of his schedule has allowed him to get up from his desk, to work on life skills like cooking and laundry: Charlie, as his teacher noted, likes to be busy and occupied, and to get up from his desk.
Sometimes it just feels like everything is working against him this year, though. After years of bus drivers who always greeted him with a “good morning, Charlie!” and a “smile,” and who clucked in sympathy when he was upset and assured me that “he’ll be okay, we all have our bad days” the bus driver this year has been, well, she doesn’t do any of those things. Added to this is the fact that Charlie’s bus arrives over an hour earlier than it did last year. He’s always had a hard time waking up, but this year it’s been compounded by a much earlier wake up time, and a less than warm atmosphere on the bus.
And middle school itself has been something of a brusque new world, after the coziness of Charlie’s classroom last year. As I’ve noted, the physical layout of Charlie’s room includes a low ceiling and no natural light. There’s over a thousand children at the middle school and discipline appears to be a priority, judging by administrators wielding walky talkies and the constant emphasis that “you could hear a pin drop in these hallways” when classes are in session. There’s no more playground and the main colors seem to be (as they were at my junior high in California) brown and beige.
I noted that Charlie, while the youngest in his classroom, is the tallest and, I’d also say, the most muscular and athletic (the result of all that swimming and 8-plus mile bike rides). So when he gets upset, other people react a lot differently than if he were 4 feet tall and a skinny little boy: Charlie’s the same height as some of the aides (none of whom were the aides he had last year, including one young man who was over 6 feet tall and could still give Charlie a piggy back ride a year ago). And I more than suspect, I think I know—that when Charlie is upset, people don’t see a frantic child, overcome by his anxieties and racing thoughts and unable to express himself. They see a 5′ 4″ pre-adolescent who’s really strong, and they step back, and want to look away.
Jim and I anticipated that middle school and adolescence would not be easy for Charlie. We’ve been talking a lot, talking to friends, talking to Charlie’s teacher; we’ve been asking questions, thinking, reflecting on how easy it is to go places with Charlie, from stores to subways to restaurants, and how much he helps us out, doing more and more small chores around the house. We’ve wondered if he’s not been feeling a kind of loss for his old school and classroom and teachers. After all, every day he walks onto the yellow schoolbus so dutifully and I wonder what he thinks as it takes him to the middle school, a group of low-slung brownish buildings, surrounded by grass and set back from the road.
Previously when Charlie transitioned from primary school to intermediate school (he’s not really “in a grade,” and has always been in special ed classrooms), it was really tough. He floundered and finally all but fell apart in classrooms in another New Jersey town and, just under three years ago, we took him out of school in November of 2005, things got so bad. We’re not at that point now (or not yet) but Jim and I have been worrying; it’s been hard to find ourselves potentially back at square one with Charlie’s education, after disrupting every aspect of our lives to move into our current school district. I’m hopeful that we can get ourselves, just muddle, through, a difficult period. While, at home, Charlie’s not always been without anxiety (sometimes he just seems to need to sit in his room with his favorite things nearby; he tells me “bye Mom”—-sign of typical teenagerism?), things have been generally peaceful, and he’s clearly a bigger boy who can do, who wants to, and who often has to struggle to “do it right.”
Charlie spent much of the weekend sleeping and some of it coughing: I’ve had a bad cold for the whole past week, and Charlie finally caught it. Saturday night—after napping a lot—he couldn’t sleep till 4am (and was beside himself at one point). Sunday he was much more easy-going, eager to get on his bike, and, while sitting on the couch afterwards, telling me the names of the aide last year who gave him the piggybacks. And then, of one of the aides he has this year.
And saying yes when I asked if he wanted to go to school tomorrow.
Being a mostly silent reader of your blog, I have to post a comment now, though, as time and again I am amazed at the incredible parallels in Charlie and my son John. We live in Berlin, Germany, but we share so many experiences.
John is 4′ 8” (at 8 years) and also very much focused on moving around. During the fall break we hiked in the Italian Alps, for example: a 12-mile hike with steep ups-and-downs. When we got back down into the village where we had rented an apartment, he was ready to do some more… His physical strength is incredible, and he is also much taller than any of his classmates. And we just enter the same phase: where people do not see him so much as a child anymore, but an adolescent (which he is not yet). People are mislead by the height and strength. In some ways, things get easier: people can now clearly see that he is handicapped, so they don’t assume that he is just not raised properly. We as parents get less accusing and annoyed looks. But in other ways things get harder: people shy away much more from him – and us. Such a big strong boy freaking out: people don’t see themselves fit to handle that kind of situation, and I often have the feeling that they don’t even want to be confronted with him. We get more isolated.
John is also going through tough times at the moment. He never used to be that aggressive, but now he bites, pinches and scratches pretty badly – also at least once incident per day. For weeks we have been trying to figure out the reason, but cannot really find it. One thing is, that I feel the holiday season is not exactly helping, as the school has many extra-curricular activities (Christmas party, visit to the Christkindel-market, going to the puppet theater… at least two activities each week…)
As John doesn’t talk, it is usually very difficult to find out what bothers him. For us, it is the same as for your and your husband: we sit down and talk to everyone involved, talk to each other, try to find different reasons and explanations, changing little things here and there to see if that makes a difference. I feel this is a process which we will constantly be in, the older the children get, the more so. As their needs and desires get more important to themselves, as they strive more towards independence from their parents, while it is still so difficult to convey their needs and desires, and while they are still very dependent on their parents, these opposed tendencies clash more, cause more friction and especially frustration.
John is still wearing diapers, he needs help eating, dressing etc. He wants to do a lot, but is constantly faced with the fact that there are a lot of things which he cannot do. He tries very hard, concentrates extremely well during therapies, is making huge efforts – I can see that very clearly. But the steps forward are very slow: his frustration is very understandable.
Luckily, I am in a very good parent support group with parents who have older kids and even young adults, and we can learn a lot from their experiences. For some reason, I don’t feel too bad about this crisis, I see that it is a step along our way. We take it one day at a time, and that is just fine with me. In the evenings, when John is exhausted from his incidents of freaking out, as well as his efforts and activities, he cuddles up like he always used to, and we as a family all feel that we are still together, still on the same page, working together. I tell him that I understand what he is going through, and that he needs to be patient, but that we are also patient and that we can endure this crisis. No need to worry for him that we cannot tolerate this, that we shy away from him (which I think he notices in other people and which seems to stress him out additionally). His inner control might not always function, but at least we can give him security that the outer control is there when needed. I feel this is an age where he wants to become more independent, and he should be given that as much as possible under the circumstances – alongside with the knowledge that we are always there for him. We have involved several people in his care (pretty hard to find), so that he doesn’t have to rely too much on mom and dad all the time. During the day, he focuses on his quest for independence, at night he comes back into our arms for re-assurance. It all works out somehow.
I hope that this period of unrest passes quickly for Charlie- although I’m dreading high school next year, I am looking forward (hopefully) to a period of 5 years in the same school. I don’t think that our transition to middle school has been helped at all by the onset of puberty.
Good luck to all of you!
Hi Kristina, Hammie here, I set up a new blog for the IAA and have you on my reader.
I wondered when I read this what your choices were for Charlie when you decided on “Middle School” At age 11 I cannot imagine Boo attending a school with 1000 pupils, and I don’t think he ever will.
Having said that, the idea of daily Speech and Occupational therapy would have been very appealing to me; and I can see that Charlie’s teacher is working hard on the life skills.
It is just that the environment sounds very challenging to me. We are so lucky to have Boo and Bratty in 1-1 tailored ABA setting with Psych’ graduates as tutors and finally AFTER 6 YEARS, weekly OT and Speech which informs the program and I know how priveledged we are to have that, so I am not judgeing. I am just wondering what you can possibly do to reduce the demands of that environment, without having to leave it. Boo and Bratty will be in their school until they are 18. And I get a great deal of comfort from that. I wonder how you could get the same without having to transition AGAIN.
BTW: The bus woman sounds like a BEE**CH.
Best thing I ever did was pull my kids off the bus. Easy for me to say as I work from home and have no time constraints, And I have a car.
but boy; we save a lot of anxiety and trouble by driving them the 40 kilometres each way. That was one behavioural program I didnt have the energy for anymore. (Seizure level tantrums each afternoon when the bus finally pulled up 1 hour after school was finished)
I communicate daily with Half Rabbit, a blogger with AS who lives in Australia. He is intelligent and very articulate and capable via email, and very empathetic to what my view is as a Mother, while helping me to understand how he feels as “the child”.
But he is trying to pursue vocational training at the moment and finds that the gap in his secondary schooling is affecting that. He did not like Secondary school, found it stressful.
My husband is the same; HATED secondary school.
I don’t have any answers here, I just wonder if it is possible to pursue the most rounded form of education in a different setting, with the same supports??
Good luck. I really feel for you. Boo has grown inches in the last month; and EVERYTHING is growing. (AHHHH) has a little tache on his upper lip now too. (AGGGGHHHHHH)
I’m 5′4″ too, so he will soon surpass me.
Fortunately I am pretty strong and scrappy but I can see him overpowering me very soon.
I guess the rest of the world can see that too.
Good luck and Love to you and your boys.
xx
Kristina, I really understand how you feel. My son is only five and in preschool, but he is already bigger than most of the first-graders. The way you talk about Charlie reminds me of Gabriel and my relationship with him. I am so glad to have your blog. I, too worry about what the future holds. You are giving me a window into the future.
Charlie sounds so wonderful. These children add so much to the world, I hope that other parents can realize that our children bring something unique to the world that doesn’t need to be “cured”.
Please keep writing, I am so comforted knowing that there are other people who face the same difficulties we do.
thanks so much, everyone—–I knew transitioning to another school, and middle school at that, would be hard. It would have been really nice for Charlie to stay in his previous classroom for another year. He’d been with these boys for a couple of years and the idea was to move them as a cohort. I have pointed out that Charlie is a full year and more younger than some of the other boys, but I think this fact gets a bit lost sometimes due to his being so much bigger and, too, having hair on his upper lip.
The bus has never been a challenge for Charlie and it’s not really—-it’s just that, it’s hard enough as it is to get him up and out the door, and the welcome mat is not exactly being laid out for him when the bus arrives. It’s been ok, but a couple of weeks ago Charlie got really, really upset on the bus because another child was screaming; the other child had gotten on the bus screaming and just never stopped.
Monika, I remember you writing to me a while back—it’s really great to hear about John and your words are giving me a lot to think on, thank you. Our time with Charlie when he comes home from school has been, frankly, quite easy and we still take him out as many places as ever. I talk a lot to Charlie, too, about it being hard to be in a middle school and about how his body is changing and he might be feeling things that seem new and strange, and that it’s all very confusing. Most of we try to make it unwavering clear to Charlie that he’s loved and always loved, and that we’re with him in every struggle.
@lisadom, thanks for letting me know about the new blog — yes, the school just seems huge, plus there have been many new expectations on Charlie. I think he might be having a delayed reaction to it all—-he has gotten sick a couple of times this year, whereas last year he only caught one cold. And we have begun to wonder how things might be different for Charlie.
@Jen, yes middle school and puberty simultaneously have been a double whammy for us!
@Kristen, Charlie’s always been big for his age, too. I could never imagine life without him—-our kids really do make everything better, I know this for sure.
Kristina, I so empathize with you. Casey has such a lovely class last year oh boys who had behaviors and levels similar to him, great parapros, a wonderful teacher, and 4 years behind him in the same school. Now, this year has been tough for him too. I won’t go into detail, and I don’t have much advice to offer you since I am not really getting a good grasp of things myself with my own kid. Casey too goes to school each day with not so much as a look back, never fights me, never says much negative about it. IT’s weird. Sometimes I wonder if he’s just holding it together, ya know? He knows he has no choice in the matter so he gets by. There again, I think if this were the case, he would be acting out at home more, and he’s really quite good, short of a few outbursts when he ends computer time or isn’t allowed something.
I don’t know, I just hope things work out for you. You are blessed as I am with a real intuition into your son’s feelings and situations in general, and unfortunately, it causes us to worry all the more.
Please keep us apprised of how things are going and thanks so much for sharing so much relatable information!
Matty isn’t really in a grade either. He is paced. Like Charlie he started mid school this year too. We have had the opposite experience than you. I’m so sorry that things have been such a struggle.
School can be so tough. It’s tough for ALL kids, and it’s even more complicated for our special kids. We’re going through a similar difficult transition into kindergarten. I’m thankful that he’ll be in the same school for the next five and a half years. But middle school will be a big transition. Good luck to all of you!
My oldest daughter (iADD possible PDD-NOS) is also one full year younger than her peers in 7th grade (she turned 12 on 8/4). It’s very difficult. Actually, this year, we are homeschooling her and I don’t foresee sending her back to Public school any time soon. I’m currently debating what to do with my four-year old son who is on the spectrum. His b-day is 8/27 with a cut-off of 8/31 for K! Augh. Can’t send him to his current preschool for a third year and am not ready to put him in K next Fall. Like Charlie, he is big for his age which doesn’t help matters any. In the meantime, if I don’t send him to K, I need to find an appropriate alternative.
I have been reading your blog regularly for last one year and it’s been psychologically very uplifting for me. My son Anan who is 12 years old with Autism has striking similarities with Charlie and reading your blog has brought lot of changes in my attitude and helped me to deal with lot of challenges.
I wated to share with you that Anan has faced similar challenges in the last 2 years in his school and at home as well. As you have pointed it out that when staff at school sees a tall and strong teenager (Anan is 5′6″ tall and 120 pound, very active), the whole outlook changes and our kids perceive that as well. When the staff reacts to these behaviors (overstimulated, anxious, not sure how to react) with anxiety, fear and lack of understanding, it makes it worse. This is what happened to Anan when he was attending a special ed classroom in a public school (one of the best in CT), his behavior went downhill and clearly they were incapable of handling it with best of their resources (he had 2 aids for him). The point was he did not need 2 aids, he needed understanding (which no one did except his new in the block special aid teacher). So, he was moved to a school which was just for kids with autism spectrum and everything statrted calming down. I need to add though that with things better at school, our attitude and behavior changed as well and things statted falling into place.
I think, now it is time when attention should be paid towards his behavior and try to make things calmer for him and providing him with alternatives to handle anxious moments and avoiding to place extra demands on him. It takes time but they figure it out eventually with everyones help.
Hope this helps.
Kristina-we’ve been there! I think the hormones are a real factor around 11 1/2 and 12.Our son Tony (who is now 13 and a half) had a tough time navigating all of the changes his body was experiencing. He 4″ taller than I am and still growing. For about a year he was very moody. But he has matured so much.
I also think the hormones throw their sensory systems out of whack.
I would look into the bus situation as well. We started driving Tony back and forth to school last January. We had 2 problems-first, transportation moved the drop-off point from the special access drop off to the front of the school-one of the busiest streets in Minneapolis. The head of transportation actually told me “the special ed access door is for people with real disabilities!” We had to have 2 meetings and amend his IEP. Tony is a runner. He would have been in danger. The bus driver resented this because he had to make 2 stops-one for the other kids in the front and one for Tony.
The second problem was that the driver was a real control freak about seating. It is a long story-but it made the ride so stressful.
While we were trying to resolve these problems I drove Tony to school. Immediately there was a huge change in his whole school day. Plus, we didn’t have to spend 15 -30 minutes waiting in the window. We walk out the door at 9:15 sharp. He listens to his music in the car. He arrives at school calm. Our mornings are easier because we don’t have big tantrums either.
PM is a bit more difficult because I lose a very productive hour.
Bonnie wrote:
sensing the exact same thing with Charlie, I mean really!