We don’ t know what tomorrow has in store for us, but I can confidently predict it will include some variation of Henry’s shenanigans. I just don’t know in what form the mischief will take place. This week he climbed onto the church’s youth center’s stage and took off his pants. Last week he tried to steal a picnic lunch from a family at the park. A crucial, but complicated, component of advocating for Henry is stepping into the public.
A sentiment that circulates the special needs community is that caregivers should never apologize on behalf of our nonspeaking children. I am comfortable insisting that the world make room for Henry. I believe in creating opportunities that allow him to shine. I don’t apologize for Henry’s slower pace, his stimming, or his need for special accommodations. With few exceptions, Steve will not apologize for Henry’s behavior in our home when we have guests. He says our home is “Henry’s space.” We will never ever apologize for Henry being Henry. However there are times, as his voice, that we do need to apologize on his behalf. This does not mean we’re embarrassed of Henry, we’re exceedingly proud of him. An apology for a behavior is not the equivalent of apologizing for Henry’s being.
So how do we decide when an apology is appropriate? When Henry’s behavior disrespects someone else’s personal space or belongings, I apologize. In many ways Henry’s brain works like a one-year-olds. It stands to reason that he would also display behaviors like a one-year-olds. We were in a grocery store recently, and Henry noticed a grocery shopper who had a bright yellow box of Cheerios in his shopping cart. In our house Henry knows that bright yellow box of Cheerios is his. He made a beeline to this stranger’s cart and grabbed the cereal. I redirected his arms out of the cart and told the stranger, “I apologize. I’ve told him not to window shop in other people’s carts, but Cheerios are awfully hard to resist.” The stranger was gracious and laughed, and we talked about Henry for a few minutes. I think one of Henry’s top ten talents is snatching other people’s items, and I find myself apologizing about this often. I don’t apologize “for Henry.” I apologize on behalf of Henry. Yes, Henry lacks the ability to control his impulses, but that does not make this behavior less intrusive. If I’m asking this world to make room for my child, then it’s important that we respect that space. It’s important that the people who make room for us know they are seen, respected, and that their personal space and personal belongings are valued. This “shoplifting” incident created an opportunity for Henry to make a connection…an awkward encounter turned into a moment to tell someone about our special little boy. More often than not, people respond to these scenarios with kindness. The people who don’t respond with kindness are exceptionally gifted at being ugly. That’s another blog for another time though.
Some days, I would give anything to run into Publix and grab a gallon of milk without rescue meds, devices, communication tools, and comfort items. (My Everest might be small but that is the peak of freedom in my mind…unaccompanied grab and go’s!) I told Steve about my dreams of grocery freedom last weekend. He said, “That would get boring.” I thought about that and he’s right. My errands would be quick, but they would be lonely and lack beauty. I would never pause to gaze at the skylight in the mall or stop to quality test the fancy patio seating at Lowes. I wouldn’t take the time to be mesmerized by the cooling grates in the refrigerated areas of Walmart. I definitely wouldn’t shoplift snacks from other people’s shopping carts. Boring! My little partner in crime brings color to grayscale errands. I am so blessed to be his mama and privileged to be his advocate.
