A massive challenge for me is dropping my children off at the school gate. It is pretty stressful and unpleasant for most people. Trying desperately to get a little person with their own sense of time and own agenda get to school on time. Yet for someone who has autism the challenge is even greater. It is the perfect mixture of sensory bombardment, awkward interactions and no obvious social rules, coming together in a twice daily event.
To get a little person dressed and ready on time is a organisational nightmare. No matter how much time you leave you will be late. Even if you left the night before. The school bags alone will get mislaid at least three times. The matter is made worse if your child has autism. They have their own speed of moving. This speed can be described as both slow and erratic. They have no knowledge of where their school bag is either, or, in fact, the trousers they were wearing just five minutes previously.
This will inevitably result in you sprinting to the school gate in a panic. Twice a day. The only difference is remembering whether you should have the child with you or not each time.
This higher functioning nightmare of forward planning, time management, organisational and executive function skills, are employed before you even set foot outside the front door. When you get to the school gates you would think it would get easier. Well it would, if you were the only people going.
Schools are eerily quiet places from the outside. That is except for twice a day. At those times, often a 15 minute window, thousands of people decend and try and deal with their own issues around time management. If you have sensory sensitivity, then good luck with that.
People are talking to friends in person and on their phones. Babies are crying, children are shouting, parents are shouting at children for shouting at babies. It gets loud. Crowds are unpredictable, jostling and moving at different speeds. This can be blanked out by the use of headphones and dark glasses but this is a social occasion and cutting yourself off from the world isn't necessarily helpful. You are modelling to your child how to behave in social situations and encouraging them to interact with their classmates. Children say hello to my son in innocent expectation and he walks right past them. I tell him that he is being spoken to. I secretly also want to walk right past them.
The people are the worst bit. I have a tendency to smile at everyone. I can't recognise faces, so on the off chance that I know them, I smile. Some people I do see twice a day everyday so I smile at them specifically. Sometimes they smile back and sometimes they don't. It is inconsistent.
Two mums in particular in my son's class I have smiled at twice a day for over a year and they have never even acknowledged me. It is getting to the point where I actually think they are actively trying to ignore me. This is confusing. The rule in my head is that you acknowledge someone you recognise. Otherwise it is just rude to that person. It doesn't have to be a big thing. Eye contact is made and you either smile or nod your head. Simple and polite. Especially if the person has done it to you first.
By the time I have reassured my son about going to school and tried to translate whatever it is his teacher has muttered to me, I feel like a lie down, only to then have to repeat it several hours later.
I am not into small talk. I don't think someone with autism really ever is. Yet I will chat and be friendly. This has sometimes led to some parents telling me their life story as I side step away into the distance. People love having a natter and a gossip. Something I have never really understood.
After the school gates close I stand in stunned silence. The sounds echoing in my ears. The movement, the jostling and the odd looks. Still deciphering the teachers comments, the new information about someone I don't know and their diabetes medication, the invite to a party my son just received and why when I see two of the mums everyday and my son plays with their sons do they still insist in not acknowledging my existence. While at the same time hoping my son will be OK and not get picked on for being different.
As I get in the car, I notice my son's school bag.
So that is where it was.