finding your tribe
This week Tess is at camp. Her first sleepaway camp. She is 10, has Asperger’s, and I knew a “regular” camp would never work for her. Most camps are designed for neurotypical kids, leaving Tess to be the “problem child” at the day camps she has attended. But we found one near us that people come to from all over the country, one that only accepts kids with autism. This week is high-functioning week, or Asperger’s week.
I imagine many parents worry about sending their kids to camp at some level–I know we worried when Emma first went to camp in 2005 when she was 13.
This felt different. Maybe because Tess has such difficulty with social interactions. Or because she needs so much support to get through a day without having a “thunderstorm” about something you and I probably can’t see. Or because unpredictability throws her. Or just because.
Yet in the midst of all that trepidation, I was a staunch advocate for her to go. I knew in my heart that it was right for her at this moment in time, and John agreed to follow my lead on it, despite his misgivings. We rode there yesterday, John stealing looks over at Tess as we went. She was excited and nervous and it was hard to tell which won out until we arrived and those emotions were suddenly overridden by embarrassment at having her parents there. The look in the photo is this: “You are too embarrassing for words. Really? You’re taking my picture?”
“She has difficulty with friendship and social stuff,” I whispered to her counselor, Corinne, just before we left Tess in her hands until Friday.
She laughed gently, and said, “All the kids here do. We all do.”
“Whatever she needs, we’ll take care of it,” Corinne said.
It is a beautiful camp. They know what they are doing. And for the first time in her life, Tess will truly be among her tribe. I so respect her willingness to try, to fling herself into something she has no idea about, to leap into a world of surprises that are so difficult for her.
