Does Not Compute
There are certain moments in our lives that are defined by a repetitive pattern of behaviors be they personal to us or universal. Take for example the year following graduation from High School. Forty-years of backpacking, vision questing and other forms of self-exploration has given this time-slot the moniker: “The Gap Year.”
Or if you like, think of the political “Lame Duck Term.”
In our home, the moment school ends until camp begins (WHY DO THEY DO THIS??) is known as: The Black Hole – a mysterious time where hour upon hour vanish in a haze of semi-consciousness.
Popular activities during The Black Hole are: Playing computer/PlayStation until your eyeballs freeze, driving parents crazy asking to play just a little longer, waking up at obscene hours of the morning to play computer/PlayStation so you don’t get caught, fighting over who got more time, throwing controllers on the ground in disgust and a good dose of healthy screaming to boot. Anything that can be deemed even remotely constructive is out of the question.
For the truly devout there are self-imposed “hunger strikes” resulting from marathon sessions that can last upwards of five hours.
Do we have a screen addiction problem? Well… yeah.
Our family’s computer habits has been a source of much debate and consternation over the years. We’ve implemented no less than twenty different systems to keep it in check with a wide range of results. We’ve placed moratoriums on play, on purchasing new games, on whether you were allowed to watch others play and if that counted towards your “screen time;” always a bandage but never a cure.
“So why don’t you just pull the plugs or throw the darn thing away?” Oh my. The number of times both my wife and I have held back from putting a foot through that machine is evidence enough that we know how simple a solution that would be, if it were only so easy.
Lately we’ve been reading and learning more about a condition called NLD, or Non-Verbal Learning Disability, (see the piece titled Obamavision for what prompted our renewed interest in this.)
Its one of the worst named conditions in the book. You hear it and think: “How sad, your child can’t talk.” Not at all. Actually one of the chief indicators of an NLD is an exceptionally high verbal capability. They open their mouths and out falls the Encyclopedia Brittanica. What they cannot do is read social cues and interpret context. Their world is a steady jumble of misunderstandings and lost data which leads to a pronounced increase in anxiety levels.
Children with this condition shy away from team activities like sports since they have trouble picking up the rules and no court sense at all. They tend to be phobic and very stubborn. Their high anxiety puts them at risk for severe and sometimes violent outbursts when frustration levels lead to a meltdown or overload.
Two of our children have been diagnosed with this condition. One actually has Aspergers, which is related and on the same spectrum. Another two are strong candidates although they have never been formally tested. My children eat a limited number of foods, hate sports and summer camp and are prone to shutting down in the face of sudden transitions. We have really got our work cut out for us.
It is no wonder why children with a NLD would be drawn to the comfort and stability of computer games. In particular, the children love online fantasy adventures where they can assume a magical new role and interact with strangers within the same gaming community. In an odd way, they are learning socialization and team play.
So for now at least, the screens are staying put, and the steel-tipped boots are staying on our feet.
I think one of the hardest things for a parent is drawing the line between what you don’t like and don’t approve. Maybe my frustration stems from looking at this computer addiction and wishing things were different; wishing that my son(s) would just once grab a mitt and a ball and say: “Pops, lets go throw one around shall we?”
The good word for today is: Shared DNA does not mean shared interests. Respect those differences and take time to really understand their importance.
LJ
Tags: Aspergers, Computer games, Learning Disability, NLD
You can comment below, or link to this permanent URL from your own site.
July 2, 2009 at 4:00 pm
my 19 year old has NLD and he practically lives on the computer. He particularly loves World of Warcraft and plays online. While we try and encourage him to socialize in real life, we recognize that this is one place where he can feel successful and accepted.
July 2, 2009 at 5:24 pm
Thank you for sharing Barbara. Our boy’s game of choice is Runescape which has pretty advanced features even for non-members and you can’t beat the cost – FREE!
http://www.runescape.com
I am curious if you use play time as a reward or incentive, or do you see this as part of his normal routine and something to curb, but not take away?
Your son is a bit older than our two (12 and 14) and has likely been playing for much longer. Have you observed areas where his online game play has helped him gain functionality in more typical social interactions?
I am reading a book that addresses computer gaming as a tool for learning on a global sense and not just limited to NLD children. You might find it interesting too. Here is a useful link:
http://www.amazon.com/Computer-Games-Help-Children-Learn/dp/0230602525
LJ