Colin's 7th Game, Unicorns vs. Steele

Oct. 15, I believe, a Friday as usual

Next Game after Homecoming, Steele vs. New Braunfels at the Unicorn Stadium, Oct 15, 2010

Roger and I had arrived late and so ended up sitting far above where we usually sit—next to the drill team and within eye-range of the woodwind section of the band.  This time we were far above that, perhaps four rows from the top, and seated amongst football people as I’ve come to think of them, that is, folks who were there mainly for the football (and some for their kids in football), which I am still, stubbornly managing to not understand.

            It was supposed to be a cold night, glowing, full-ish moon, and dressing for it was part of what ran us late.  Having been warned by a band parent friend about the horrors of sitting in the cold at football games (butt chilling bleachers, arctic winds), I’d gotten myself into a turtleneck, long johns, and cowboy boots. 

            Most of the other folks there were in their shorts and shirts sleeves.  I’m always the freezing one wherever I go, so I’m used to it.  However, I did learn some things about football and about our team in particular, mainly by using that social tactic I’d advised Colin to employ:  Listen to those around you and when you have a comment or question chime in and see the result.  In this case, I was lucky, as the person I queried was friendly and interested in answering my questions about which football player was which number, why was the game going the way it was, which kids her daughter knew and how, and so on.



Blurry but you get the idea.  No monoceras nearby, band down from us, some folks in jackets.



Okay. Uni up close.  Couldn't resist. 

            Ever since our social “fumble” at the last USSBA Contest, I’d had Colin asking questions and commenting on his band teammates’ responses, with the result that, by the time this game came and nearly a week had gone by, he was feeling better about band, happier about it and his band “friends.” 

            To prepare him for the “conversations” I’d asked he have that week (oh yeah, I still owe him dollar per interaction—he hasn’t remembered.  Unlike his sister the Border Collie, he’ll let “minor” things like money get by him. 

He’d worked on what was essential and old format we used to use with ABA drills.  He’d memorize a three part sequence (sequence being one of his biggest deficits as a child with Autism—a very common problem on the spectrum). and we’d rehearse it the night before class and before he went in and tried it on his bandmates the kids at school.  I specified “talking” to two of his bandmates at first, then upped the number to three.

Here’s the drill:

1.      Ask the other student: “How was your day.” (part 1)

                  Listen (part 1b)

2.      “Ask that student a more open-ended question:  ‘So what happened?’” [Part two, which would work with either a positive, negative, or neutral

3.      Answer from the bandmate being questioned in part 1)

                  Listen (part 2b)

      Comment (part 3—and he had to listen—again part 2b—for this to work) in a way that related to what the bandmate had said:  Example to negative answer, “Oh yeah.  I’ve had that happen to me/Oh. That sounds bad/terrible” or, example of answer to positive response, “Oh yeah.  I have had that happen. / Oh.  Sounds good.”

I recorded some of Colin’s attempts to follow the prompts/drill above that week:

Colin:  “Hi Katy.  How’s your day?”

Katy:  I had a test for every class period.

Colin:  “that’s terrible.”  [well, at least he knew to say how most of us would feel in such a situation!]

Colin:  “Hi Katy.”

Katy:  “Hi.”

Colin: How was your day.

Katy:  It was alright

Katy:  Hey I like your shirt. 

Colin:  “You know about Marvel?” [Colin is a huge Marvel Comics fan]                

Katy:  I’m totally into that

Wow.  A conversation that went to this level.  This is almost un precedented for Colin (and later we found that Lauren likes Marvel too.  Double Wow.  Now if only we could figure out how to connect with these kids in other ways.  Think think think. 

The result of his efforts at conversation were particularly good.  From Oct. 17 Sunday, about the preceding week:

Mom:  “How was band this week?”

Colin: “Band has been alright for me this week.  Nothing in particular happened.  Talking to  people has helped this week.  It makes me feel more or less shy.  Because of that I am (sort of) in the mood of talking with people.”

And finally, I ventured to the front to take a shot, where for a while I hid behind a stadium assistant who had had kids himself in the band.  When I expressed my reluctance to take photos and my fears of blocking others’ views, this fellow had a wise piece of advice:

“It is easier to get permission than to be forgiven.”  Bearing this in my, I ended up with these great shots!  Finally, my son, fairly happy, in uniform!



Yey Colin. He's happy here!  Take my word.