I drive from Danville to Bloomsburg, along the same path the school bus took me for twelve years. The trees crowd in beside the road, and it feels so quiet– I’m amazed at how little traffic there seems to be. I guess I’ve gotten used to Cincinnati. But this definitely still feels like home.
I’m going to the park for my 13-year class reunion. Why 13 years? Because we’d never had a reunion before, and we wanted to have one. I worry a little that I won’t recognize some of my classmates. That could be embarrassing.
But as they arrive one by one, I know them instantly without a doubt! This so rarely happens to me anymore even with people I know well. It really feels nice.
Eight of us were able to make it out of a class of 26. I’d say that’s pretty good, considering how many of us have spread out all over the country and how many are busy with family and job obligations.
I get to meet their spouses and children, and I do my best to remember their names, but it will take me a while. I’m thankful that I’ve had the chance to learn some of them from Facebook.
We talk while the children play on the playground– there are so many stories to tell. I stand in between two conversations, listening to both and smiling. My friends are so very much the same people I knew from school. They’ve been to some amazing places and lived through some tough times, but God has preserved what is good in each of them.
I don’t think I have a lot to add myself. My experience is still mostly as a student. I’m still trying to find a career, still hoping to start a relationship with someone.
I probably seem a lot like I did when we were all in high school. I lagged behind socially then– at a middle school or elementary level– and as a result, I didn’t interact much with my peers. Now, I’m probably up to a college or high school level socially, but I don’t always feel fully a part of the adult world.
When someone asks me what I’m doing currently, I stammer and pause for a bit as I try to answer. A nasty part of me is telling me “You don’t belong here. You don’t have anything to talk about,” but I know that’s not true. We go out for drinks, but I haven’t developed a taste for beer or wine, so I order soda. I hope they don’t think I’m looking down on them by not sharing a drink– it’s such a symbol of friendship.
Before I came to the reunion, I was worried a little about negative thoughts like these, but they are no match for the joy I feel. I sit and listen to all the stories as my friends share– about meeting their husbands and wives, about funny or sad things at work, about pregnancy and childbirth and picking names for children and the unpredictability of two-year-olds. I imagine that my parents had conversations like this about me when I was little. I hear how God has blessed each family and prepared them for the things He brings into their lives. Everyone’s story is different, but also the same.
I realize that I have grown in thirteen years. When I was a senior in high school, I was afraid to drive a car. Today I made two trips by myself, and I enjoyed them. Even though social interaction is tiring, I am seeking it rather than avoiding it– planning my weekend around it and learning how to get enough rest in between so that I can be fully present and part of the conversation.
I wonder if my classmates know what a blessing they have been to my life– both those who are there and those who could not come.
At times, others find it hard to believe that I have Asperger’s just from observing me. I think some of this may be due to personality– my strong desire to avoid confrontation has likely kept me from clashing with others.
But there was another big difference in my life, the people around me. In so many of the stories I read online about people with Asperger’s, their years in school are not remembered fondly. Stories of bullying seem almost universal, and in a lot of cases, the best advice people can offer is “Wait until you graduate; it will get better.” I read about people who still deal with the effects of bullying decades later.
I wonder if my classmates know that they are proof that it doesn’t have to be that way– that kindness can have just as much of a positive impact on a life. None of us knew about Asperger’s, but anyone could see that I was different in some ways, lagging behind in others. But I wasn’t given grief for it. I was just given friendliness, time, and a safe place to grow.
I hope they know.
Nathan,
I really appreciate this blog. It makes me aware of differences in people. I honestly never saw you as different in high school. I saw you as my competition! To be honest, my husband complains that I am the least observant person on the planet. I generally just take everything at face value and don’t notice differences in people. I’m sure you remember my friend in high school who was of hispanic descent. I have to admit that it wasn’t until well into college that it dawned on me that he wasn’t white. I honestly didn’t think about it. He was who he was and even though I knew him since I was 5, I never noticed a difference. He was just my friend.
On another note, it was wonderful to see you at the reunion. I was so happy that the ones who could come, did. It was great getting to see how lives have changed and are still changing. I’m happy that you were able to have a positive experience in high school. I have to admit that I feel the same way. I talk to friends who went to public schools and they tell me how happy they were to graduate and get out of that environment. I was sad to go. I knew what to expect in high school and knew that I could count on my friends (i.e. all of my classmates). I think we were all very blessed to be in a class that was so close, accepting and non-judgemental. I, too, would like to thank everyone for such a positive experience.
Thanks so much for the kind words, Allison. I’m glad that you’ve enjoyed reading my posts.
As far as being “different” goes, I’ve found that so much depends on perspective. The reality is that everyone’s different in some ways, whether there’s a label for it or not.
I think having the label “Asperger’s” has helped me to understand some of my differences and be more patient with myself as I work on things I want to change. But it is a slippery sort of category, because no one fits it exactly, and everyone identifies with most of the traits at least some of the time, and yet it still describes something real. I think one reason I write about it so much is that it’s so confusing!
I’m not sure being “unobservant” is a bad thing. (I have to confess, I’m not sure I know who you are talking about– how’s that for unobservant?
) I didn’t know anything about Asperger’s until just a few years ago, but I don’t think I would have wanted people to treat me any differently because of it. In the case of your friend, race is really just a label people have put on each other too– if you care about the person, then you care about them as an individual regardless of labels.
One of the things I’ve realized about people is that even when it seemed like everyone around me had it together and I was the “odd” one, I’m pretty sure every one of them felt like they were the “odd” one at times. But God understands even the things that confuse us, and he still loves each one of us. The fact that he brought us together in that class is one of the ways he blessed us.
Anyway, thanks for reading! I am planning to get back to posting in a couple of weeks, as right now I am focusing on trying to get some computer code to work. Go class of ’98!
: )