Now that my daughter’s high school soccer career has drawn to a close, I’ve had some time to reflect upon the ways in which I fit in—and didn’t fit in—with the other parents.
Of course, when my daughter began playing soccer six years ago, I was right in the thick of things, chatting it up with the other moms. It was four years before my diagnosis, and Ashlynne had just started regular schooling, so I was very keen on being in the midst of it all. From the outset, though, three things set me apart:
1. For the first few years, I brought food for my daughter and her teammates to every game. Sometimes, another mother brought food, but I brought food every time. I mean, lunch at school started at 11:30 am, and the soccer games started at 3:30 pm, and those girls couldn’t play with their blood sugar running low, now could they? So I brought chips, or popcorn, or peanut butter and crackers, or graham crackers, or chocolate chip coookies, or whatever looked quick and delicious at the local market.
Once Ashlynne got older, I stopped, mainly because I wanted to give her space to be with her friends—and also because I figured out that the kids had brought food to school, and so the risk of their collapsing on the soccer field was minimal.
2. I tended to talk with Ashlynne and her teammates in a very down-to-earth way. For example, this fall, her team played a game that was just spectacular. The girls were passing to one another beautifully, and Ashlynne was making a series of fantastic saves in goal. After the game, I went over to Ashlynne and her best friend, and said, without any preface whatsoever, “Day-um! You guys were on fire today!”
Her friend looked at Ashlynne, smiled, and said, “I love your mom!”
Apparently, not all the soccer moms open up a conversation with “Day-um!”
Who knew?
3. Most of the other parents socialized during the game. Now, I tried socializing, too. I did. I sat in the bleachers with the other parents, and I did all right.
The problem was that most parents were so busy socializing that they missed what was going on in the game. They talked about anything and everything, and they rarely talked about soccer. My breakpoint came when one of the girls scored a goal, and her mother missed it completely. She stopped talking long enough to say, “Oh, did Lucy get a goal?” as though it were a distraction from why she had come. Then, she just picked up talking where she’d left off.
I just couldn’t understand why socializing took priority over watching the game, but I knew one thing for sure: I was there to watch my kid play soccer. So, I began spending each game on the sideline, camera in hand, taking photos and shouting encouragement to the team. When Ashlynne started playing goal, I’d stand on the sideline on her end of the field, snapping photos like crazy and shouting out support. I had a friend come to a game with me once, and she kept trying to talk to me through the entire game instead of watching it. I’m not sure how she missed that I’d invited her to watch my kid play soccer, but clearly, socializing was far more important than the action on the field.
Now, I will admit that it was a big relief to get away from the socializing, because it made the sensory experience of the game so much more enjoyable. But I know that my desire to have some peace and quiet to watch the game wasn’t just a sensory thing, because Bob did exactly what I did. He stood on the sideline, cheering the kids on, for exactly the same reasons. He was there to see the game, not to yack with other parents. At halftime, he’d go and schmooze with the other adults while I got some quiet time to myself, but other than that, we were both focused like proud parental laser beams on the game.
I’m very glad that I paid attention. It’s all gone so very quickly. It’s hard to believe that six years ago, Ashlynne ran from the ball, and that since then, she’s been named her team’s MVP, become a co-captain, and won this year’s Excellence in Soccer award at her school. I have a lot of good memories of watching her on the soccer field, and they’ll stay with me forever.
© 2010 by Rachel Cohen-Rottenberg
Good for you! And Good for Ashlynne! Personally, I think not being like other soccer moms is a good thing. But that’s just me. My kids don’t play team sports, so I’ve not had the “bleacher” experience but I gotta wonder what the point is, if you’re not going to actually watch the game.
I played basketball for all of a minute and a half in the 8th grade, and my mom (NT and chatty) was constantly cheering and coaching from the sidelines. I liked it and hated it at the same time.
I think what made my cheering tolerable for Ashlynne was that I cheered on her best friend almost as much!
I had to laugh at this because I am the queen of using the camera as way to avoid an uncomfortable social situation. For almost 10 years, I have been the events photographer for the labor union I work for. It makes some sense as part of my job [I'm not a professional photographer, but I am a graphic designer and communications/media specialist], but the real reason I do it is to cope with spending hours at rallies, marches, and picket lines every year. If I have a camera, I don’t have to make small talk with anybody or participate in any chanting if I’m not in the mood, and I can legitimately back out of any conversation with “Sorry, gotta run. I’m missing a great shot over there.”
Now I understand why I’ve been taking pictures my whole life! Being behind a camera gives me some distance from the sensory minefield—and allows me to separate the visual from the other sensory input in order to make art.
I like this post – those are all VERY good ways to be different, that’s for sure
I agree! This is a subject on which I know that people think differently, but I have great difficulty understanding why.
I’m still stuck on the though of you saying “dayum!”
Dayum, Ben! Move on.
Congrats to Ashlynne!
There were some soccer fields where I could park at an end and watch the whole game from the most comfortable seat at the field. The bleachers sometimes sounded like a pub, there was so much yakking! That camera trick sounds like a really good idea. I’ll have to remember it if I’m ever in a crowd scene again.
Thanks, Born2Bme.
Digital cameras are definitely a boon for us sensory-sensitive types. In the old days, you’d have to wait for just the right shot so as not to waste film; as a result, you really couldn’t spend that much time behind the camera. Now, you can take photos to your heart’s content and just delete the ones you don’t want.
how lovely
bet your daughter loved the way you experienced her game
She did! I seem to have figured out how to be supportive without getting in her way.
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