LARPING

Separated at Birth

Chris Irvine, Parent CoachLeave a comment

When Maddie was a toddler, and just becoming able to express all those thoughts she was having thanks to those finally-developing fine motor skills in her face (yes, speaking is all about fine motor skills!), she began to ask me every single day, “Is there a party today?”

She had decided birthday parties were her passion. A truly good day would involve a party. She wasn’t able to say a whole lot, really, so I couldn’t be sure what exactly what it was about parties that so fully floated her boat, but clearly she enjoyed being in a social atmosphere. Many kids on the autism spectrum are paralyzed by anxiety in groups, while some just scoot off to the side in quiet avoidance, but not Maddie. She may not have been playing on the same level as the other kids, but apparently she liked them anyway. A lot. Or maybe it was the cake.

Maddie has never been a particular garrulous person, either, but when she has something to say, it’s usually either interesting or insightful or funny (except when she continues to repeat that funny thing long after it lost its humor). As an elementary student, she would have usually one or two friends, typically kids who had some social challenge or other. I remember her kindergarten teacher, whom I liked very much otherwise, saying, “I don’t really see her as (and I paraphrase here) a popular kid.” Wow, I thought, OK. Not everyone can be that kid. I have a feeling the teacher was that kid, and perhaps her four children were too, so maybe a child who’s at the center of things is what she expects or sees as necessary for her definition of success. Maddie would be on the fringes, I suppose she meant. At the time all I knew was her milestones had been delayed, but she was a cute smart kid who was drawn to kids who struggled, and who was having a challenging time adapting to kindergarten as evidenced by a few episodes of sitting under a table screaming (in response, I believe, to her best friend’s difficulties) and an occasion or two in which she hid at school and nobody could find her for awhile. Would she ever be in the center socially? I doubted it, but it seemed like a ridiculous thing expect or even think about.

She has never had much of a social life, though. She had limited numbers of friends as a younger kid, for one thing, and those friends weren’t particularly social themselves. But even now, since she has grown in confidence as well as social skills, and is better able to socialize, she shows little interest in nurturing friendships outside of school. There is the exception of her cousin, however, the only person she longs to spend time with.

For years I would ask her daily who she ate lunch with. “Do you want to invite them over on Saturday?” I would ask. Or “I could pick them up and take you both to a movie if you want.” Or “Why don’t you text him and see if he wants to play that video game you both like?” A shrug of disinterest inevitably followed. It seemed like she ought to want to hang out with her peers, but apparently she didn’t. She still doesn’t despite being isolated at home since she quit high school.

And then something happened. I have an old friend whom I hadn’t seen for probably 13 years. We were never close as we were connected via our husbands, who also weren’t especially close, and many years ago she had divorced and moved away with her young daughter. “Suzi” moved back to the area a few years ago, and although I hadn’t seen her, we had been connected on Facebook and she had been reading my blog. After reading about Maddie’s LARPing (live action role play) success at winter camp, Suzi was moved to action. It turns out her 14-year-old daughter Caitlin has similar interests, not to mention a few shared personality traits. Suzi asked if perhaps Maddie would be interested in meeting Caitlin.

Maddie has historically befriended boys far more than girls, although girls like her very much. She literally could not be less interested in things like makeup and clothes and hair and nails, as evidenced by her avoidance of such basics as showering and wearing clean pants, and she’s not interested in talking about boys even though she’s had her share of crushes. And forget small talk. She wants to talk about Minecraft and LARPing and the Assassin’s Creed video games and Star Wars and anime. Otherwise, BOR-ING!

She has also announced, with conviction, her opposition to what she calls “forced friendships.” Because of that she shunned this wonderful program at her high school called PALS in which select volunteers from the mainstream student body are paired with special ed students for social activities including a weekly lunch and a monthly party. It’s an awesome program. They have to turn away volunteers! But Maddie rejected it outright because, she said, of her total disinterest in those “forced friendships.”

So when I mentioned this new potential friend to Maddie, I wasn’t sure what she would say. Luckily I said the magic word (LARPing!) and a match was made. Suzi and I agreed on a time for them to meet and Maddie was absolutely giddy for a week, making all sorts of plans and repeatedly asking me about this mysterious Caitlin.

And then the moment arrived. Suzi and Caitlin knocked on the door and I opened it to welcome them. They walked down our entry hall and then Maddie and Caitlin met eyes. They stood there for a moment taking each other in. I looked at Caitlin, similar to Maddie in height, also wearing glasses, and remarked on her soft and interesting sweatshirt.

“Is it a dragon?” I asked.

“It’s Night Fury. From ‘How to Train Your Dragon,'” Suzi said. “She found it on Etsy.”

“Oh, I am very familiar with Night Fury,” I said. I nodded sideways towards Maddie, who happens to have a rather large stuffed Night Fury herself from many years ago when the movie first came out. She was obsessed. She still kind of is.

As the girls stood there looking at each other, I was just astounded. Here, practically under our noses all this time, was Maddie’s potential soul mate.

“Separated at birth?” I laughed to Suzi in amazement.

I was recovering from the flu, so Suzi graciously took the girls out to dinner after she and I caught up on the many years since we’d seen each other as Maddie and Caitlin huddled in Maddie’s messy room and, apparently, talked and talked and planned and planned. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen Maddie like that before!

I do believe a friendship has been born. And that’s really all you need: one good friend. My son has a nice group of long-time friends, and Maddie has struggled to have friendships outside of school. So seeing the potential friendship forming before my eyes is a beautiful thing. It’s been a long time coming! Separated at birth, perhaps, but reunited at long last.

Let the LARPing begin.

How to Be Awesome

Chris Irvine, Parent Coach3 Comments

Yesterday I picked Maddie up from the camp bus. She has gone to winter camp for three years, and as you may know, the planning for winter camp begins the moment she leaves summer camp. Summer camp ends with a rest and then plans for winter camp. Basically this kid lives for camp. If she could do anything full time, it would be camp. Camp, camp and more camp. Thank goodness for camp! Have I mentioned she likes camp?

The first time she went to sleep-away camp, I was a nervous wreck the entire week. Instead of relaxing and enjoying having only one kid for a few days (it is SO MUCH EASIER), I lay awake in bed chewing my nails wondering if she was she ok emotionally without her mom. Would she be lonely, could she make friends? Would the kids be nice to her?  Did she need to call home? What if she got sick? Can she eat the food? What if she’s sad???

And then on pickup day I discovered what a magical place this camp was, and the only time I worried again was her first winter camp when it very suddenly became freezing for exactly the days she was there. I ordered wool socks from Amazon and overnighted them to camp. She thought it was weird. But I was glad I did it.

This session, though, I was a tiny bit worried. She had put so much effort into preparing something and I was afraid her heart would be broken.

Maddie’s current obsession (and I do not use that term lightly) is a video game called Assassin’s Creed. I don’t play video games at all, but I have seen enough of this game to understand its appeal. It takes place in various historical periods, and the visuals and costumes (HELLO COSTUMES!) are magnificent. She and my husband have declared Assassin’s Creed “their” game recently, and that’s how they connect. And his big gift to her this Christmas was an elaborate costume of the hero from the middle ages.

A few months ago, Maddie had an idea for camp. (Hey, thinking ahead!) Each cabin is charged with naming itself and creating a cheer. This is a creative bunch, given that it’s a performing and visual arts camp, so they always come up with something inspired. And inspired Maddie was. She wanted to name her cabin after one group in the video game and hope that the cabin of one of her guy friends would be their foe. In preparation, she bought 20 tee shirts, 10 black and 10 white. She made out of paper and duct tape (surprise!) emblems matching the groups and attached them with velcro. She made two incredible flags as well, again with the duct tape.

It was great to watch her pour her passion and creativity and time and effort into a project. I had nothing to do with it other than the requisite trip to Party City to get supplies. But all the while in the back of my head, I kept thinking this might not go as she planned. I didn’t want to dampen her spirits, but I also felt the need to prepare her for the possibility that the other kids aren’t so enthusiastic about Assassin’s Creed.

“I just don’t want it to ruin your camp experience if the kids don’t go for it,” I said. It hurt my heart to say it, but it was necessary.

“It won’t,” she replied. “I’ve gotten better at that.”

Well, indeed she has. And her self-awareness was startling and a bit of a relief.

All week I kept wondering how it was going. Perhaps her preparation would have been met with such appreciation that people would feel obligated to participate Or maybe there’s a whole teen cult of Assassin’s Creed among the drama set that I don’t know about.

Yesterday she arrived across the bay on the camp’s bus. When I drove up to retrieve her, she was already off the bus and waved me down. She looked great. Relatively clean, in her nice warm coat, hair in a pony tail, happy and relaxed.

After we threw our arms around each other for a long hug, a young lady introduced herself to me. “I’m Otter, Maddie’s counselor.” (All the counselors have nicknames, like Awkward and Sparkle and Tiny.) “We had a great week!” she said.

“Well, Maddie LIVES for camp,” I said.

“We know!” she said. Of course they know!

“She did a lot of preparation,” I said, stating the obvious.

“Yes, she did!” said Otter.

I turned to Maddie. “How did it go?”

“Well, it didn’t go like I expected. It turned out even better!”

I had been so afraid to ask her about the Assassin’s Creed thing, thinking perhaps if it had been a huge disappointment, that might not be her most desired topic of conversation. But now I had the opening to ask.

And this is how it went: The kids didn’t want to adopt her cabin themes. I didn’t ask for the details because it didn’t seem to matter. But what did matter is what came next. Instead of feeling rejected and disappointed, she decided to put all of her work to use in a different manner: She approached the camp director and suggested some LARPing (live action role playing). LARPing does involve costumes but it mostly involves particular types of battles and games. So she helped organize the whole thing and they rounded up pool noodles for weapons. There was a huge themed battle with those tee shirts and a big game of capture the flag with those great flags she made, and she got to not only enjoy all the fun but experience the rewards of her flexibility, creativity and leadership. I believe she felt positively heroic at that point. Apparently the LARPing was a huge success, and they all had Maddie to thank.

So she will begin preparing for next summer’s sessions. We’ll wash the shirts and she’ll make some more (a few kids kept theirs). And I suspect she’ll have some other ideas, as well, to help enhance the LARPing experience.

These moments are the glimmers—no, flashes!—of hope for the future. I don’t know what exactly Maddie will do, but what I do know is this: She is passionate and creative and flexible and she’s growing up and changing in all the best ways.