
he smack heard worldwide is fresh off the press, and many opinions are floating around. Mine comes from being a mom who has fought blood, sweat, and tears to raise a high-needs child and advocate for him and others like him so people understand neurodivergent minds.
My stomach dropped when I saw the clip about Will Smith and Chris Rock at the Oscars. I watched the body language, how Will Smith’s chest pumped up and down, and the look in Chris Rock’s eyes that said this wasn’t planned. How do I explain this to my son?
My son has ADHD, among other comorbid diagnoses. One of the most significant symptoms in every part of his day-to-day life is his LACK OF IMPULSE CONTROL. He’s 10. He’s not a grown man. We’ve had to move schools several times due to the way his brain works — controlling impulses is very difficult for him, but we work at it every day.
He has often hit another kid, me, or his grandparents. I am his mom and the mediator; I work to understand the situation, talk to him about it, talk to any other members involved (schools, other parents, kids, the nosy general public), and then we serve out our consequences. There have to be consequences to help them understand to think before acting on impulse.
In his most recent installment of Act on Impulse, he didn’t take pause and jumped and hung on a door at school — before it came crashing down. That evening our conversation went something like this:
“You have to understand, kiddo, there are consequences when we do something, whether intentional or not. You have to work harder because of how your brain works. But without consequences, you may keep doing the same thing.”
Thankfully, he can much more control his impulses to act out on others physically. For example, at a trampoline park recently, I knew our time for thinking before acting was fading. I could sense it from across the room. It was too busy. There were too many kids. And as I jogged over to where he was, I could see his fists clenched, chest pounding, and laser beam eyes staring at a kid who kept pushing him. I called my son to say it was time to go. He ran up to me and shared how much the other kid was upsetting him, and it wasn’t fair he was pushing him. “But we aren’t him. Remember, we live in a world with consequences, and when people don’t know us, they often think the worst of us when they see our worst behavior. I’m proud of you for not acting on impulse.”
He swore up a storm to me, but I again praised him for remaining in control. Most people around us didn’t see the victory — they saw an angry kid with foul language. I didn’t care — they had no idea how many years went into that moment — I was proud.
Parents of children with ADHD, ASD, SPD, and numerous other invisible disabilities, work around the clock to rewire their son’s and daughter’s brains to help them know when to pause before they act. One of our biggest fears as they grow up is that once they are legal adults, their impulses could land them in jail, lose a job, lose loved ones, lose respect and confidence.
How do I explain to my son that someone my son enjoys watching in movies was allowed to hit a person and then receive an award, a gold statue, deliver a blanket apology, and dance the night away? I imagine I am not the only parent this doesn’t sit well with.
I get it. I can’t tell you the number of times I would have also hauled off and hit a person for insensitive comments made about my son. I have felt my hair prick up, and the urge to walk up and act on my impulse, but I didn’t because I had to recognize the hypocritical message I would be sending my son.
I think we can empathize with Will Smith. We’ve all been there, but most of us wouldn’t have the same outcome if we acted impulsively. Kids like mine don’t get achievement awards and parties after losing their battle with impulses and acting out on someone who said something stupid, insensitive, and hurtful. No one sympathizes with them if they say, “love makes you do crazy things,” no one cheers.
Parents of neurodivergent children usually follow the following protocol:
- Validate their children’s emotions and feelings.
- Discuss the situation.
- Hold them accountable.
- Enforce consequences.
I didn’t see the full extent of this Sunday evening, or by Monday morning. As it stands now, the message that this moment at the 2022 Oscars will send to kids who struggle now and will continue to struggle as adults — is that it’s okay to hit someone if you make millions of dollars. You will get rewarded minutes later and go off and enjoy your night.
It would be nice to see the actor hold himself accountable, maybe turn the Oscar in. Does the award take away from his recognition and acting? Not really. But it could show children whose lives can be significantly impacted by doing something similar. More importantly, let’s recognize the times an event like this can go considerably wrong, causing someone to lose their balance, hit their head, and poof, lights out (it’s rare, but it does happen).
I think the actor acknowledging his actions were wrong, and his privilege of being a highly paid celebrity is why he was not escorted out of the event, would help stop the undoing of some of the progress we have made in controlling impulses and accepting acceptance consequences. I guarantee you neurodivergent kids will say in the not too distant future, “Will Smith hit that guy for making him mad,” and I hope, as parents, we have the opportunity to say, “yeah, and he admitted he shouldn’t have done that, and lost his gold statue.”
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Previously published on A Parent Is Born, a Medium Publication.
Photo by Drifting Desk on Unsplash
