The Making of a Superhero
29 September 2010
In the waning days of summer vacation, before the start of school, I took my two youngest boys to the pediatrician for their annual check-up. Besides the usual weigh-in, height check, listening to the heart and a peek in the ears, these days a child's physical consists of a litany of questions from the doctor. There is a little chat about how many vegetables the kids eat (not enough), questions about whether there are guns in the house (absolutely not), if we have a pool (yes) and if so, do we know CPR (no).
The final question the doctor asked both my boys — Jack, age 10 (going on 18), who is typically developing, and Dylan, age 12, who has autism — was, "What do you want to be when you grow up?"
Such a simple question.
Jack answered as I expected, alternating between being a professional football player and a professional baseball player. If he could do both and be the lead guitarist in a rock bank on the weekends, I think he'd be all set.
The doctor then turned to Dylan to ask the same question. Yes, a simple question, yet the weight of it hung in the air. It was easy for Jack to answer because he is able to visualize the possibilities. For Dylan, even the concept of the day after tomorrow is too abstract, so for him to consider not only a future far down the road, but what he might be doing at that time, makes it a much more difficult question to answer.
In Dylan's typical way of processing information, he often repeats a phrase as his brain scans for the answer. Thinking of how to respond, he began, "I want to be ... I want to be ..." And then he said something neither the doctor nor I expected: "I want to be ... a SUPERMAN." No exclamation, just a matter of fact.
A superman: a person possessing extraordinary human powers. In some ways, Dylan's response seemed ironic; my son, who just learned to tie his shoes three months ago, wants to be a superman!
After a week or so of enjoying such a delightful and surprising response, I began to wonder why he came up with that answer. With Dylan, there is usually an explanation if you dig deep enough. His limitations may be greater than some — and it would be nice to think that he truly does dream of being a superhero, but knowing my son as I do, I doubted if he even knows who Superman is, or that he has a concept of "growing up." If only I knew what is going on inside his head I could tell you. I don't even know if he dreams. And if he does, in his dreams is he as we see him every day, or is he a typically developing child doing what other 12 year olds do?
When the time was right, I sat with Dylan and asked him if he remembered our visit to the doctor. He said yes -- but he says yes to everything. Then I asked him if he remembered being asked what he wanted to be when he grows up. His reply? "I want to be a costume."
Aha! I understood immediately what he meant by his answer to the pediatrician.. Unfamiliar with the question but recognizing some of the words, Dylan inserted a different question – one he is familiar with: "What do you want to be for Halloween?" It's not a far leap from there, since his brother wore a Superman costume just a couple of years ago.
It was a simple question from the pediatrician, and a seemingly simple answer from Dylan -- but one that makes me realize, in the end, nothing is really as simple as it seems. Would it have been better if I hadn't figured out the meaning behind his answer? Maybe I could have held on to the thought, just for a moment, that he believed he really could be a superman when he grows up.
No, I don't really believe that closing my eyes to reality is the answer, even though it may give me comfort for a brief moment. But this much I can tell you: I will never close my eyes to the possibilities.
In AWE,
Kim
Comments