This was something I wrote a couple of months ago. My previous post was a good segue into this as it touches on the issue of teaching Poppet about ‘private parts’. I’ve split it into two parts for simplicity…
My partner just informed me that Poppet dropped her pants yesterday at school and I’m shocked. This is the first time Poppet’s ever done something like this and all my anxieties come to the fore.
Apparently, she was left by herself at lunchtime and was watching the boys play soccer. According to her own account, she was pretending to be Shrek, which I imagine meant that she was acting out a story that seemed to involve the boys. (If you know the character, Shrek is marvellously entertaining for younger children because he gets a great deal of joy from belching, farting and basically being harmlessly crude. Poppet loves Shrek.)
Her wonderful teacher dealt with the issue in a very simple but effective way: she sat down with Poppet and quietly talked about what is real and what is pretend. Drawing two columns on a piece of paper, she wrote in one column several examples of what happens in the movies, that which is make-believe, such as animals talking and fairy-tale characters. In the second, she asked Poppet to give examples of real life. After a little prompting, Poppet was able to give appropriate answers, such as animals don’t speak in the real world and we don’t ‘moon’ other people.
Poppet has always been fairly good at distinguishing between appropriate and inappropriate behaviour. I’ve spent a good deal of time helping her to understand what actions are private, such as going to the toilet or bathing, and we’ve had numerous discussions about who she might allow to touch her.
“What about Doctor Gail, Poppet? Is she someone who’s allowed to touch you?”
“Yes.”
“What about Glen, from next door? Is he someone who’s allowed to be with you in private?”
A brief hesitation as she considers this scenario then, “Maybe not.”
When I consider the strange behaviour of my daughter dropping her pants, I know that there’s something more to it. Sure, she might be playing Shrek, but she’s only doing this because she is alone. I believe this is her way of trying to engage with the children, attempting to elicit a reaction from them.
Most of the children at school accept Poppet and her sometimes-different behaviour. They say ‘good morning’ to her and chat with her every now and then, but what they don’t do is truly engage her in their play too often. The games the children play are often either too fast for Poppet to keep up with or rely on rules that she wouldn’t understand easily.
Through no fault of their own, the children have yet to develop the skills that are needed to coach and coax someone like Poppet, the way an adult can, nor do they modify their games to include her.
This is the most heartbreaking aspect of sending my daughter to a mainstream school. In class, she interacts with her peers and teachers, relying to varying degrees, on her aide. However, during breaks, she is often left alone. Sometimes she will be with the teacher on yard duty. Sometimes she will go to the library, sometimes she plays by herself on the monkey bars.
This loneliness, for want of a better term in her earlier years at school, would manifest itself in different ways. Poppet would throw mulch at other kids or blowing raspberries in their faces; this was her way of gaining a response from them. As she’s grown older, she mostly reverts into her fantasy world, looking in on the other children.
We’ve tried to think of ways of keeping her occupied during these times, such as helping to keep score of a netball match instead of actually playing. I’ve even bought a docking station for her classroom so that she can take her iPod to school to listen to music during breaks, hoping that some of the other girls might join in and dance. Mostly though these activities have centred around Poppet doing something remotely and would need the assistance of an adult for her to do it effectively.
That’s it for now. I’ll send the next half through soon.