The Po Show

Troubled Kids

Getting away from the global levels of responsibility I talked about yesterday, I turn to my own backyard. I know who I am directly responsible for, and that's my kids.

Mental illness is not exactly in the same ballpark as neurological disorder, but a lot of the issues are the same. And maybe telling ourselves that having a kid with a neurological disorder somehow isn't as "bad" as having a kid with a mental illness is really just another defensive mechanism, yet another example of how parents deal with stigma and guilt and despair.

In a lot of ways, dealing with Matthew's problems today feels a lot like dealing with the problems he had when he was 2. I said back then, nothing is worse than being the mom of the kid who hits. You constantly have to apologize to other moms, who try to be nice and say it's okay, while they hold their crying kids and try not to glare at your kid, who made them cry. You constantly have to be vigilant when your kid is playing with other kids, constantly shadow and watch, to make sure that in the midst of simple interaction, some tiny occurrance, some inadvertent bump or tussle over toys, doesn't result in your kid taking a swing at another kid. It's constant worry, and anxiety, every time you are in a social situation with a lot of kids and a lot of noise, that it's all going to end in disaster and you having to leave early, more apologies in your wake.

I still feel that anxiety, because I never know. Things were really good for awhile, like most of last year, but this year has been brutal. These days, I never know when I go to pick the kids up in the cafeteria after school, if Matthew is already in the office with the assistant principal, after having gotten in trouble again. Yesterday I waited, and he never came out, and finally a couple of kids from his class told me he was coming down with his teacher because he'd hit a girl in the dismissal line. I talked to his teacher, and we worked out a plan in which Matthew would always be at the front or end of the line, to minimize other kids bumping into him and causing his reactive lashing out. So that was good. But it's relentless, this needing to deal with problems. I'm always afraid of him causing more trouble, though I know it's not his fault.

What about parents of kids with really profound problems? If I feel guilty and anxious because of the disruptions my Aspie kid causes at school, what do parents of really disturbed kids go through?

I can't stop thinking of Cho Seung-Hui's parents. There are absolutely no reports of them, which makes me think they totally went underground after his attack. I've read so many reports of how Koreans, both Korean-Americans and Koreans in Korea, feel overwhelming shame over the fact that this bloody killer was Korean. The Korean ambassador to the US is going on a 30 day fast to show how sorry he is. If that seems really bizarre, that people with absolutely no connection to this guy other than nationality (and he'd been in this country since he was 8) would feel somehow responsible, you have to understand Asians and collective identity.

But what about personal identity, and personal responsibility? What about his parents? If some random Korean-American in Fairfax, VA feels the need to apologize and feel guilty for what Cho did, what the hell must his parents be going through? And what did they do through, as he grew up and showed signs of being so mentally ill?

Don't talk about it, be stoic, wait for things to be better. That's the Asian way. That's the approach a lot of people take towards mental illness. It obviously didn't work this time. If anyone takes any lessons from this, I hope it's that if you have a troubled kid, forget feeling embarassed, forget the fear of labels, forget what other people might think about your kid. Get your kid help. I've finally done it, to the tune of 175 uninsured dollars a therapy session. I know he's never going to gun down 32 other human beings, but I hope, with all my heart, to help make his life less of a tortuous field of landmines. More happiness, and less trouble.