b'final mattersThe Joy and Pain ofGoing to KindergartenMy daughter starting school brings out my inner childBY MARIBETH THEROUXM y daughter is startingWill they mock me for simply sitting down? then that elementaryschoolinA question that didnt occur to me the fall. I am so happyoccurs to me now: Why is this so hard for me?for her. It also makesAnd finally at just shy of 40 years old I know myeyeswellwiththe answer. Im on the autism spectrum. Social dy-tears just writing that.namics, big groups of people, lots of stimulation Ididntexpecttoall day every daythese are all things that are hard crywhenmydaughterreceivedherkindergar- for me. They make me tired. They mean I use a ten placement for the fall. Perhaps I could havewhole lot of my energy just to do the very basics anticipated that feelings might arise. After all, itof initiating a conversation, deciding where to sit, doesnt take much to stir them, especially whenfinally letting out an exhale when once again I get it comes to ones children. And yet, I was whollyto be alone, or at least somewhere where the rules unprepared when the email came and the feelingsare a bit more clear. knocked me over.To this day I occasionally need those recovery School was hard for me. The schoolwork partdays of staying under a blanket and being lulled to was fine, but the social dynamics? That part wassleep by the sounds of other peoples problems on hard. Painful even. The inner child in me carriesPhoto by Stephen McFadden on Unsplash the television.that not-quite-fully-processed pain to this day. IIts important to remember, with this and all so badly do not want my daughter to experienceyears to come. things, that my daughters experience will be her that same pain, or any pain, for that matter. ButMyschoolyearswerenotallbad.Iforgedown. Its so easy as parents to project our own feel-of course, pain is kind of inevitable in this life. Wefriendships in middle school and high school thatings and worries and pains onto our children. Its live, we laugh, we love and we cry. continue to this day. I found my love of theaterso important to instead be responsive to whatever I, for one, cried every day for a month when Iand writing.their experience is. started kindergarten. The teachers and administra- But then there was the time in second gradeI hope that she will find her people. I hope that tors assumed it was because I did not want to bewhen a classmate genuinely thought I could notshe will find her way. I hope that she will have separated from my mom. A fair assumption. Imspeak (because I so rarely spoke). And there was memore joy than pain. I hope that amid the often not sure if my tears had anything to do with it, butworrying so much I would get nosebleeds in classconfusingandoverwhelmingsocialdynamics my mom ended up getting a job in the office at mythat I would tip my head back ever so slightly inof school that she finds what she loves. Grows. elementary school. I remember that morning soanxious hopes of avoiding them. There were theLearns. Looks to the future and imagines a life she clearly. I was crying in the cubbies (as I did everydays I pretended to have pinkeye, so that instead ofwants to lead.morning). My teacher came over to tell me, Yourbeing ushered to school I would be ushered to myI sometimes wonder what additional support mom is going to work part time in the office. Yougrandmothers couch where I would stay beneath amight have helped me. But honestly? The Price Is dont need to cry anymore. blanket watching The Price Is Right and drift to sleepRight and my grandmothers couch went a long I stopped crying, but not really out of findingwhen the afternoon block of soap operas began.way. any particular solace in this new information. IThere were entire school years when I dreadedMaribeth Theroux is a poet and comedian. She re-think more than anything I stopped crying becausethe lunchroom. The visceral feeling of picking upcently launched The SOMA Network, an organiza-it was abundantly clear that everyone needed methe cafeteria tray and turning to face the onslaught.tion devoted to creating and sharing local opportuni-to stop crying. I accepted my fate. I accepted thatThe noise and the faces. Did I mention the noise?ties and access to the arts. She lives in South Orange school would be a thing I would do. Every day. ForWhat table? What will I say? What will they say back?with her husband, daughter, son and two couches.46/ matters magazine / school 2025'