My kid is a 2e kid. It's not obvious, visibly, but it can become obvious pretty quickly after her mouth opens. A few people have related to my fatigue and disappointment and irritation at almost every situation making our differences obvious. Most people don't understand it because they haven't experienced it. As a culture, many shy away from uncomfortable situations, including those where their empathy could cause them discomfort. I have heard people say that they stay silent for lack of a better idea. Let me assure you that silence isn't your best idea in many situations. Go ahead. Stick your foot in your mouth. Feel foolish. We can relate to that better than the experience this mom relates.
http://bloom-parentingkidswithdisabilities.blogspot.ca/2013/06/the-invisible-mom.html?m=1
My situation is not the same as this one. I was included by some while my daughter was in school, and I worked hard . . . continue to work hard to help her feel more included than I do . . . or ever did, for that matter. The professionals at the schools she attended were fabulous and did not make it more difficult for us. They facilitated things. M received invitations from classmates regularly . . . until we found homeschooling to be our only real option. Very suddenly, all invitations from anyone connected with her schools stopped. Every. single. one. I remember when she asked me why we didn't have plans with ______, related to several different people. At first, I told her I hadn't hear back yet, which was the literal truth. Later, I told her I had tried, but it didn't work out. That's one way to soften, "the parents never returned my calls/e-mails/texts."
For her last birthday party, two children accepted her invitation. She didn't mind, and we emphasized how we could be more flexible with fewer people to move around, etc. I cried for her more than one night after she was alseep, but she seemed effectively sheltered from feeling rejected. One of the attendees was surprised and asked why there weren't more. The other didn't comment, and I know that child did not have a party that year at all for similar reasons. I replied to the comment with the simple statement that when she was in school, we invited a lot of the kids in her class, but that we had more choices with fewer people, and that's what we had chosen this year.
Recently, M attended a birthday party that was full of school kids, or at least I assume it was, as the birthday child attends school. The child being celebrated also is surrounded by neurotypical situations (and I know this child is very intelligent and doing well at school). M had questions about how to interact with the other kids, knowing noone else there. We talked about it calmly a few days ahead of time just to give her ideas and choices, and she nervously asked me to remind her of the ideas while we were in the car on our way to the party. She had a good time.
I make plenty of mistakes in life and look like a fool far more often than I'd like to. This has had surprising benefits. In one case, we met a family with 2 kids, and the older is bound to a wheelchair. There was uncomfortable silence among the adults during introductions, but the younger sister proudly repeated into the following silence, "that's my big sister." After a conspicuous pause, searching for something to say, I focused on the only person talking, "I know she's your sister. You two have almost the same color eyes. Are yours more green and hers more blue? Did I see that right? They are beautiful!" As I said it, I intentionally looked into both of their eyes and smile. Many shoulders dropped, and although I was sweating through the exchange, it developed into a friendly relationship. I'm glad I risked putting my foot in my mouth. Noone needed words about the difference in one child in the group. I had no expertise or particular skill to get me through this. I relied simply on desperation, and found something to say . . . anything positive! It worked.
One more example: When M was in preschool, one of her classmates had a sibling who would grow into a wheelchair. As we got kids ready to go, the mother would plop the child on the floor & help her other child prepare to depart. The younger child, unable to crawl, moved like a porpoise or dolphin on the floor. This wasn't terribly uncomfortable until M giggled one day, flopped down on the floor next to the child in the same movements, and talked loudly about how fun it was and how she loved dolphins. I looked to the mother, afraid I'd find offense there and have to try and figure out something to say. She slowly smiled at the two kids on the floor, then gave me a warm look. Whew!!!! M was saying nothing negative or inappropriate for her age. That family also became one that we enjoyed conversation with through preschool. M has usually been quite drawn to kids with differences, but not in a critical way. As in that case, she genuinely enjoys the differences and sees the fun in them. She simply didn't know anyone might be uncomfortable, and didn't think she should be any more careful with this child than any other.
Back to the birthday party pep talk. M is starting to understand that there are times you need to be careful. Sadly, she has learned that some people have false assumptions about giftedness. She asked me why. I told her that some people think it means that we see ourselves as better than them. Her eyes got wide as she told me she believes the opposite. I reminded her that we cannot control other people, but we can control ourselves and our reactions. I told her that everyone needs attention & needs to feel important. I don't want her to feel like there's something wrong with her, or that she should be ashamed of who and how she is. However, I want her to be careful and nice to other people. It's polite. It's nice. I recommended asking questions about the other kids, which shows interest in them. Ask them how they know the birthday child, or if they are in the same class, or what they like to do outside of school? Everyone has something they're good at, she reminded me. I agreed. I suggested she ask some questions to show interest in whatever they like. That helps them feel important, too. She reminded me that everyone is important. Absolutely!
Here's my suggestion to everyone. Show interest in people. Even if you never see them again, you can make their day. Be willing to be underwhelming. If you like the color of someone's shirt, that's good enough. It might make their day. If you are uncomfortable with people who are visibly different than others, practice on other people first. You don't need to make a lifelong friend to give a compliment to the person behind you in the line at the cash register. Many people in our culture are lonely, or worse yet, feel invisible like the mom in the blog post I included here. I have been impacted for years by simple statements from strangers. I have been told that simple statements I made and forgot were earth-shattering to the receiver. Be open to trying. You might be pleasantly surprised. Better yet, you could pleasantly surprise someone like the mom worried about tearing up while waiting at pick-up (whom I have been, as well).
I hope you had a great Independence Day weekend, and I hope you believe that you have the power to make a positive difference in another life today, and every day. Embrace your power.
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