Back to School - My Aspie's Challenge

Heading back to school is a challenge for most students, but for those diagnosed with Asperger's syndrome, it can be especially difficult. Aspies typically have a hard time with social interactions, changes in routine and the "unknown."

Not only was my Aspie entering a new grade with a new teacher, but he was also facing a new school due to our move over the summer.

At first, Sam was excited about his new school. He counted down the days, eagerly rummaging through the shopping bags to claim his special markers and gym sneakers.

Then it was three days before the first day of school.

"Will I know anyone?" he asked me. I assured him he would be in the same class as some of the boys he had met this summer.

"How will I get to school?"

I explained that he would ride the bus.

"I don't know where my classroom is!"

It was time to call the school and arrange for a tour.

Because Aspies don't do well in new settings, the special education teacher agreed to meet with us the day before school started to show Sam his classroom, introduce him to his teacher and his aide, and find his desk and his hook to hang his backpack.

When we arrived at the school, he got out of the car slowly and approached the front doors cautiously. His chubby hand gripped mine tightly. He shifted his weight from foot to foot, rocking his body in a typical autistic move to soothe himself. His brow furrowed into a scowl, but he didn't say a word.

It took a few minutes, but Sam warmed up to the special education teacher. He soon let go of my hand to take hers as she led him through the darkened hallways.

He stopped scowling as he realized his desk would be next to his friend's. His grin nearly split his face when he found out he could have seconds (even thirds!) at lunch. He practically skipped down the hallway, excitedly finding the restrooms and gymnasium.

Sam decided to go to bed early that night so he had plenty of time to get ready for school. I had to laugh - Sam is usually up at 5 a.m., regardless of what time he goes to bed!

He woke me up at 7 a.m., unable to contain his excitement for another moment. Here was my little man - 8 years old, dressed in a black T-shirt and grey shorts, new Z-strap shoes on his feet, Mohawk freshly trimmed, backpack slung over his shoulder - practically vibrating with energy as he waited for me to announce it was time to get on the bus.

At 8 a.m., he burst through the front door. "Love you, Mom!" he shouted breathlessly as he ran for the bus. Sam is now a third-grader.