A day in the life

We had a day last week that made me wonder about how different high school is today for kids with Asperger's in particular.I'm thinking about accounts I've read like in "Look Me in the Eye" by John Elder Robison and "Born on a Blue Day" by Daniel Tammet, even Temple Grandin in "Thinking in Pictures." They all describe high school as a torture socially, if they aren't ignored they are teased and bullied. Mostly it is their social isolation that drives their pain.
We strive for better. Does that sound lame? But as adults in a mass of teenagers we cannot create social success for the kids we help by waving a wand. We can usually make sure they get assigned to groups who will be supportive when teachers assign group projects. We can be there in class as an adult presence to discourage bullying. However we cannot create social success or friendships in the larger school arena. But in our resource room we can and do make efforts to guide and create some level of practical social experience, in a conscious way. Some days we are more successful than others. Enough blathering, here's the story, all names changed:
We have staggered lunches over three time slots so kids either have lunch before, in the middle of, or after their 4th period classes. Two of our sophomores who share first lunch, Steven and Claude, are often in the room together chatting after they eat. There are always adults in there too, but we try to stay out of the boys' conversation. Our goal is to have them support each other. Their topics seem pretty random but these two use appropriate language and best of all, actually appear to listen and don't just lecture one another. They were talking when Quentin, another sophomore, came in. He sat quietly at a different table, playing with small toy he carries for a few minutes. Then he called from across the room to the other two, "What are you talking about?" Steven and Claude stopped talking and didn't answer Quentin. Quentin repeated his question. This time I said "You guys have to answer him." Claude said "I'm busy." I said "That's not an answer. You need to say something like "Quentin, you are not in this conversation right now." So Claude repeated "Quentin you are not in this conversation." All three boys remained silent after that until the bell rang. At that point Steven left the room, but Quentin and Claude stayed in. A little later Claude was sitting on the sofa reading and and Quentin came up behind him and said "Claude your hair is so greasy you look like a penguin who swam in an oil spill."
Now it is true that Claude has sensitivity issues with showers and his hair was not clean. This is something he and his family are working on. Quentin clearly knew exactly how to target Claude. By now though Claude had forgotten all about the earlier interaction and was focused only on this insult, which seemed to have come out of the blue. He pouted, then huffed, then threw his book. One of the other adults asked him to walk with her out in the halls, a strategy that is often successful. They went out, I ate and the room quieted down. Quentin, mission accomplished, took off, so there was no chance to talk to him about his behavior.
Five or ten minutes later Claude was back, still teary and sniffy, still unable to move on. He and the adult had decided to call it a day. He got on the phone to see if his mom could pick him up. Then he and I packed up his stuff and went out to meet his mom. Another kid tagged along. We went out to a beauty of a day, sunny and warm. As we sat outside Claude was calming down. I asked him if he thought it was possible that Quentin's mean comment could have been connected to the earlier incident of shutting Quentin out of the conversation with Steven. He agreed, then added "I guess I could forgive him." I asked him if he thought he might be able to stay at school now and he answered that he though he could. We agreed to wait for mom and talk to her. As we were waiting Claude related that earlier in the day, at a weekly group session led by the school social worker they had discussed Quentin's behavior. (I don't attend group) Apparently Quentin had come in late and Steven had moved across the room to avoid sitting near him. At the end of group the social worker asked Steven and Claude about it and Claude had defended Quentin, saying "He can't help the way he is." In the moment of the insult Claude had forgotten all that too. Claude's mom drove up, he spoke to her and then went back in the building to class. I talked to mom for a minute, to fill her in on the story and she left.
The next day Claude showed up with clean hair, in a great mood. Quentin was not at school, his family had gone out of town. Steven was his usual self.
So, years from now, when Claude writes his own memoir, will he remember only the pain? I'd like to think we are helping, but I'm not so sure. some of the executive function issues (see my last post) will not just go away.

Related to this I am still processing my day yesterday. I went on an field trip with my son's elementary school class, a boat ride on the Mississippi. There were about 100 kids and 8 adults. I was just an observer, someone to watch and yell at kids to slow down and not climb the rails. I couldn't help noticing the two young Aspies in the group. They attended without adult aides. One stuck with adults pretty much all the time, mostly his teacher. The other was truly alone in this crowd all day. I noticed on the bus that he got on and chose an empty seat. As the bus filled up, kid after kid got on, looked at him and the empty spot and sat elsewhere. They would rather sit three to a seat than sit with him. At last his teacher sat with him but didn't talk to him. I saw him on the boat too, always alone. Can we do no better?