Throughout his young life, Carson has been the kid who acts out. Over the years my child’s been called many things by many people: defiant, aggressive, oppositional, lazy… their (mis)behaviours frequently pathologized or (mis)interpreted as character flaws.
You may have heard of the iceberg theory. Freud used it to distinguish between elements of the mind. But this model has also been applied to behaviour: the iceberg represents all the behaviours you see, while the roots of those behaviours lurk beneath the surface. In other words, all the things you cannot see.
The roots can be difficult to untangle. The meltdown “for no reason” could have a myriad seemingly unrelated triggers: Carson forgot to drink, someone posted a rude comment online the day before, the cafeteria was too bright/loud, anxiety over an upcoming test, and so on.
For me a shutdown might be precipitated by running late to get to an appointment, a sharp clothing tag cutting into me, a poor night’s sleep. From the outside a resulting behaviour can look explosive, exaggerated, melodramatic. However, it’s rarely just the thing itself but a series of emotional, situational and sensory issues that culminate in a behaviour.
When threatened, humans (like all animals) go into survival mode. These days we aren’t fending off sabre tooth tigers, but our bodies don’t know that. Evolution hasn’t quite caught up with the times. So we react. Some of us flee, some freeze; others fight. Whereas I tend to flee or freeze when distressed, Carson fights.
This propensity to lash out does not exactly endear my kid to others; if anything it instinctively puts people on the defensive and elicits an adversarial response. It’s easy to feel sympathetic toward your child when they are crying or having a panic attack, but what about when they are throwing things and screaming in your face? As a parent, it can be so hard to keep your cool and remain empathetic when your kid is losing their shit—doubly so when you’re autistic and trying to temper your own wonky stress response!
Instead of giving kids what they need most in the moment (a calm voice, close proximity), we may get angry or triggered ourselves. We may shout or shame them. We may ignore or isolate them. We may form damning judgments about our child, who in turn senses our judgment, leading to a spike in stress and yet more behaviours. Thus the nasty little cycle continues.
Many neurodivergent kids suffer from extreme stress and trauma, often at the hands of the very people entrusted to help them. Carson has been restrained, reprimanded, and isolated more times than I can count. Everyone was doing what they thought was right at the time. This doesn’t change the fact that they inflicted lasting harm.
As caregivers, educators and therapists, we need to look at what’s going on below the iceberg. We need to focus on building connection through co-regulation and avoiding punitive measures like isolation, ignoring, shouting, shaming or blaming.
And for the love of gordon, can we scrap reward systems and behaviour charts once and for all; they just add pressure and stress on already stressed out kids. As our friend Ross Greene famously said: “Kids do well if they can.” Continually losing privileges because of behaviours you cannot control is enough to drive anyone to despair. I’ve seen this in Carson, and it’s so disheartening.
Behaviour truly is the elephant in the room. Neurodivergent kids who exhibit behaviours are frequently ostracized, even from the spaces supposedly equipped to support them. I can’t tell you the number of times Carson has been excluded from autistic programs. This creates a climate of shame and isolation within our own community.
When all is said and done, kids need to know that love and acceptance isn’t contingent on how well they behave and “comply” at home, at school, or in the community.
What have you noticed have you noticed about your child’s iceberg? What have you noticed about your own?
Hi Julie, this post is so beautiful and I hope may reach parents who don't yet know their kid or kids are autistic. Life before diagnosis was so bewildering and I had to convince so many people (after I'd convinced myself) that my child wasn't "bad." It breaks my heart when adults treat children that way, especially knowing that kids act out only when they've already passed a breaking point.
I've been wondering lately, Julie - what is the difference between the Highly Sensitive trait and autism? I realize there's overlap with sensory processing and ADD/ADHD and autism, but the Highly Sensitive trait studied by Dr. Elaine Aron often presents itself in similar ways to autistic behaviors. Do you know of any information about this difference, or correlation?