Labels

To label or not to label. That is the question.

My son has a label. He received his label half way through his first year of elementary school. The school did not initiate this labelling. It was something I sought as a parent, needing to understand more of what was going on with him. I didn’t tell him about his label. I continued to hide it from him until about the middle of 2^nd grade.

He’s always known he was different too. In Kinder, he used to tell me, “NO ONE KNOWS WHAT IT’S LIKE TO BE ME” – I guess to be more accurate, he was screaming it at me. I even asked his teacher if they had taught a unit on the “uniqueness” of everyone using this terminology "no one knows what it's like to be me", or something that might explain why my little boy had this sense that he was different and alone in this world. No, they had no explanation either.

Still I resisted using the label when talking to him. I didn’t think he would understand what it meant and more importantly, I was afraid he would only see the negative parts of a label. I regularly used it when explaining things about him to other people. After all, it gave people immediate perspective and acceptance of him for who he was. I was not ashamed of my son and to me, hiding from a label means that I’m ashamed of all that he is and nothing could be farther from the truth. I love everything about my son.

When I did eventually use his label to help him understand himself, it was after reading an autobiography of a young man, an adolescent, with the same label who said hiding the label from the child was the worst thing ever, especially when the child already knows s/he is different. I ordered every children’s book I could find on the subject and slowly introduced my son to the label. He, of course, recognized himself – both the strengths and the challenges. He didn’t need anyone to label him. He saw himself on the pages of the books we read and begin to understand himself more and more. He still hated the challenges he faced just as he did before the label, he still hated himself, just as he did before the label, but we now had a common language to talk about it. He now knew why things were so hard for him. He wasn’t a failure. It was just harder for him to do some things that were easier for everyone else.

To label or not to label. That is still my question.

I compared another child, a friend’s child, to my son. I have been doing it for a couple years now never realizing it made them uncomfortable. Recently, the "setting" in which I referred to their child being like my son led to a demise in our friendship. I owned that the setting was inappropriate and I apologized for being hurtful to them. However, their fear that my son's label could somehow rub off on their son, their subsequent reaction to protect their son from such a fate (as if getting a label is that easy, as all parents with special needs kids know its not) is ultimately what leads me to question how exactly labels are viewed. 

My son is not his label and yet I learned this week that even some friends see him as just that. 

Let me explain my reality.

The first thing you will notice about my son is his smile. It will light up a room. Probably because he has these cute little dimples that go along with it. My son has an infectious laugh. If he is laughing, you will soon be laughing too. It’s that kind of laugh. It's not even that his laugh is funny sounding - its just that you want to be laughing at whatever he is laughing at. He has a wickedly funny sense of humor. He loves all sports, especially anything that involves a ball and any sport that he attempts – he gets it! I don't know how he does that. His coordination - unbelievable! He is always busy – he climbs walls as a hobby claiming to be training for American Ninja Warriors. He does not like Superheroes (he thinks they are dumb.) He loves the Dallas Cowboys and is known to cry when they lose (and even throw things – but hey, so does his dad!) He likes Nascar and if he control of the remote - we're going to be watching something sport related. He adores his big sister and would love nothing more than for her to hug him! But no, she won’t do it. He puts 110% effort into anything he chooses to do (and about 20% into anything that isn’t his choice, like most kids his age.) He loves Minecraft and has built intricate hotels and even stadiums in there, and has mastered researching what his next purchase is going to be on the internet. He even checks the reviews to see if the purchase is crap or not. He is an A student, a rule follower and everyone wants to be his friend at school. My son has big brown eyes with long eye lashes that women envy, longish brown hair that he doesn’t want to cut (or brush, much to his dad's annoyance!), even when he’s sometimes mistaken for a girl. He hates to wear jeans (and I’ve finally quit trying), preferring UnderArmour, Nike, Reebok and Adidas athletic wear, and he wears out his shoes before he ever outgrows them. Funny thing is half the time, he's bare foot outside. My son also has autism. Or as he says, "My brain just works differently."