So the subject "Highschool Reunion" possibly isn't the most appropriate subject line for this particular entry. I considered "Back to Yesteryear", but was wary of any romantic connotations it may have.
I'm nearly 27 years old. Given that I haven't done a teaching degree, a local highschool isn't where you would expect to find me; yet, tomorrow morning, that is where I will be.
In April I joined a theatre company. The name of the complany is "Company @" (for Company Autistic Theatre). As far as we are aware, we are the only theatre company in the world where all performers have an autism spectrum disorder. Recently our ensemble performed for the general public for the first time. Our play "Framed Out" gave a comedic insiders view into the lived experience of people on the autism spectrum, using minimalistic theatre.
Since our performance, our manager and director were able to secure funds for us to develop a program for highschool students. In the program we work with students from local highschool in developing scenes that relate to autism in schools. For the purposes of this program 4 out of our ensemble of 12 actors were selected to work on the project. I am one of those 4.
Initially our project involved just the ensemble members and our director going over events from our own highschool experiences that we could dramatise for the sake of bringing some initial illustrations to the students. My own experience, involving a nasty prank with a valentines card, was one of the scenes we worked on. Working in our safe little group was comofortable.
You think by this age I wouldn't think twice about going into a highschool, but as the day approached for our first session with the students (grade 10) I became more and more nervous. I realised that despite being more than a decade older than the students that I was just as terrified of them, and how our interactions might pan out, as I was of people when I was in highschool. If anything I was more nervous, because in highschool I didn't have the insight of today knowing that I in fact am the on who is not normal; back in highschool, I simply thought I was superior to many (not all) of the people who tried to ridicule and torment me.
Our first session with the students was good. They were reasonably well behaved and participated with a safe level of enthusiasm. Having been to 10 schools during my pre-university career, this first session reminded me of the first day at a new school. On your first day at a new school people haven't gotten to know you very well, most will let differences slide for a short period of time (making the assumption that it may be due to new-kid-nerves). People are nice on the first day, people are welcoming.
Last week was like week 2 at a new school. Without actually doing anything in particular your differences have been noted. Whether people can pinpoint it or not, it is obvious that you don't interact or think the same way as the crowd. And so the crowd sticks closer together. When the crowd sticks closer together, they don't necessarily do anything to actively exclude you, but you get the feeling you don't belong (and perhaps you should find your own space, away from them, to socialise/play etc). Everyone is still civilised, and this is perhaps your only opportunity to avoid the social slum of the playground. If you can redeem yourself and minimise the expressions of your personal quicks and autistic idiosyncracies during the second week, perhaps the crowd will relax and count their initial opinions about your difference as being too quickly judged.
Tomorrow is week 3. Tomorrow the mini ensemble from Company @ will return to this particular local highschool. I don't think I magically redeemed myself from the plight into social isolation last week. I found myself just as confused by the interactions of the students as I was in highschool. How do they decide who is cool? How do they decide when something someone says is funny or not (there don't seem to be any consistencies). What makes them choose some students over others to work with. How do you get them to listen to your ideas too.
I don't think any of the students there would have had a clue of the degree to which I once again felt like I didn't belong. The truth is, now I don't belong... But my mind wondered if an extra decade of life would have brought me to a point where I could be one-up on the social interactions of a group of 15 year olds. Alas, it hasn't. I have no doubts that I have achieved more academically in the past decade than the majority of this particular class of students we are working with will achieve in the next 10 or so years of their life; but none of that changes the fact that in that decade I have failed to even master an adolescent understanding of certain social norms.
While it doesn't particular matter to me if this group of students accept or include me, the situation has caused considerable thought and reflection. When I was their age I thought a decade filled with abundant tertiary education such as what I have undertaken would obliterate the obvious social difference I display. I was wrong, and it was disheartening to discover this. I'm not sure I want to fit into the 'normal' social code, but I'd like to think if I did, I could. I remember being told when I was in highschool that once I was qualified etc that my peers would look up to and respect me - I was lead to believe the social side would hold far less weight (that was so misleadnig of the well meaning adults who instilled that message into my then adolescent mind).
So back to tomorrow. Tomorrow is week 3. Week 3 of every new school I was enrolled in went something like this. People had already worked out there was some level of difference. There were a few kind souls who looked kindly upon the social misfit and offered brief periods of supportive recognition (while appreciated, it was also understood on my part that these offerings of kindness were motivated out of pity for the one who couldn't manage to attain reasonable social status alone). Inclusion was on the basis that interactions with me would somehow benefit the group. Just as quickly as these brief periods of inclusion started, the longer periods of outside social observer would take over. In week 3 no-one would be explicitly mean, but things would be on the build to an attack of the vulnerable; this building did not have to be announced, and in all honesty, the waiting for whatever prank or ridicule was being planned for was worse than the actual insult itself. Week 3 was once of the hardest weeks, because after that the exclusion and nastiness would reach a level at which certain protectors could recognise and address it: In week 3 it all remained below the surface, rumbling and threatening like a volcano ready to errupt.
How do I feel about tomorrow. Nervous. A little bit stuck in memory lane (and desperately trying to pull my feet out of the mud before I get there tomorrow so that I don't go in there and drive the situation into negativity through my own fears). I had forgotten the anxiety of being in highschool until our return 3 weeks ago. Yes, I still have anxiety in adult social settings, but as an adult there is not the same expectation to join a clan and fit in with it (there is more scope for individuality).
So let's see if it's possible to get through week 3 with a bit more life experience behind me.
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