Susan Senator

This morning, Ben came down in a snit over his hair. He has baby-fine, lanky hair and it becomes easily tangled and full of static. He also was blessed with all of my stubborn cowlicks, so he has it rough when it comes to hair. He has a definite idea of what he wants to look like, (so familiar) so it was not surprising for me to see the odd clump rising in the back of his head, and then his hand wrenching it downward (to no avail), his teeth gnashing in rage.

I did not notice Nat, hiding his face behind his cereal box, grinning broadly.

All I saw was Ben, over-the-top angry, spitting nails at everyone, and saying, “And if you so much as smile at me again, I will rip your face off,” or something like that, at Nat.

“BEN!” I said. “I know that you’re mad about your hair and sad to go back to school, but you can’t put all of your feelings onto Nat and everyone else! It is NOT his fault!”

“Yeah, but he’s laughing at me!”

I looked and saw that Nat was hunkered down behind the Lucky Charms, and was indeed smiling. Oh, what do I do, I thought. Nat is laughing at him, technically, but that is because he is giddy and nervous (in general) and because of Ben’s anger. It is not actually Nat’s fault that he is laughing —

But wait, I then thought. To Ben, Nat is laughing at him. Ben doesn’t recognize the subtle difference of someone who is disabled and anxious and prone to giddy laughter who doesn’t intend to upset —

And then I caught myself again. How do I know he doesn’t intend to upset Ben? Why should I assume Nat can’t help it, when I know that he probably is actually laughing at Ben, though far more innocently than Ben thinks?

Why split hairs? Ben thinks that I am sticking up for Nat over him, and in a way, I am! I would never tolerate Ben laughing at Nat if Nat were upset by something. Is there some way I can remonstrate Nat but still be fair to him, knowing that his autism makes the situation subtly different in intent, but not different in appearance and outcome?

Here are the facts: 1) Ben is angry already, from having to go back to school, and having crappy hair.
2) Nat is laughing — and at him — but not because he thinks Ben looks stupid. He is laughing because of Ben’s anger vibes.

Was there a way I could discipline Nat that would be fair to Nat and teach him what was right, but that would satisfy Ben?

So I said, “Nat! You don’t have to laugh when you know Ben is upset!”
Nat said, “Yes,” and his voice slid down into a soft giggle.
I tried again. I said, “Nat! As the big brother, you should know better not to laugh when someone is upset.”

This time Nat was quiet. But he looked at me and something flashed in his eyes, something like, he was surprised at me. Something a little shocked, that seemed like he knew I was sacrificing him a little for Ben. This fear weighs especially heavily on me now, because tomorrow we are having a meeting with our educational team about putting Nat on a waiting list for housing at his school. He’s eighteen, he’s eighteen, I keep telling myself. But.

I checked in with Ben a little later, to see if what I had done had been worth it. Still angry, he said, “He’ll just forget it in five minutes!”
And I said, “Yeah, maybe, but that’s not his fault. That’s the disability, see?”

I don’t know if I did any good at all.