the neurotypical insect boss

it's ant season

7:45 a.m. (a school day in October)

After seven years working at a trauma-informed school teaching social studies, I never got used to it. The behaviors of the students were volatile: mean calm genuine kind I got used to those four directions. The behaviors of my colleagues were volatile: mean stoic covert practical I never got used to the single compartment where all of that existed at once made apparent when they talked or did not talk. Every day I carried a baseline unsettledness, a dull thing that was stored in my stomach like hard rubber. I did something about it. On YouTube I was taught breathing exercises from AskDrJo. After much practice I still always did it wrong. It was the coordinated steps that complicated it for me. First, inhale through your nose, then let your tummy expand, then mouth-exhale for six seconds. Every time I attempted this method, I did it wrong. My breathing strategy was nothing more than an offbeat tactic because I could not coordinate the steps.

7:55 am

It was October. In October the ants show up with a quiet suddenness that reminds you of the last time you saw one. Some say October is ant season even though it was technically late fall which is not fully a season. Then I saw them. From the door leading to the parking lot was a frantic black thread of ants vibrating in unison. I went to the supply closet to get an ant trap. Back in the classroom, I knelt down to properly place and set the ant trap according to the illustrated instructions. When I stood up and turned around, the program director entered the classroom. She announced 'the kids' buses are running late. Also, please see me at the end of the day.'

I checked the wall clock. 8:03 am.

I chose not to respond with a simple 'why.' I did respond with a complete thought and a complete sentence, I asked, 'Could you tell me now why you need to see me later?'

'You know what,' she said, 'I'll see you at 2:30.'

When she left the room I checked the ant trap. Without hesitancy the ant group was filing into the little square opening. As I watched one ant then another scale up and through the open square to the bait goal, it crossed my mind to utilize my breathing strategy. I started by suggesting to myself to utilize your breathing strategy. First, I inhaled, then my stomach didn't expand. Therefore, I stopped.

Then I started backtracking. I ordered my thoughts to my recent history of colleague interactions. Maybe it was my comment at the staff meeting to Moronica the science teacher, when I told her that reciting a long list of her problems with students is not solution oriented. Or was it when the new employee Dorkus, who enthusiastically suggested an outdoor art activity where the students make boats from plastic soda bottles? In response, I covered my eyes with my hands and said no, please no. Last year we did that and it ended badly. We had 22 plastic boats immediately float far away down the brook only to become a floating island of pollution. Then, it came to me. I definitely knew why she wanted to talk to me at 2:30. Lately, I had been mimicking people. Not in a way I thought was hurtful; it was a reflex, a sensory tool that produced regulating stimuli that I liked to do when I was feeling elated in the moment. I mimicked the special educator. When she complimented me on my report card comments and that getting them uploaded into PowerSchool early was very appreciated, she concluded by saying, 'It was just what I was looking for, Baker.' In turn, I immediately repeated her verbatim, in a mousy voice, 'It was just *what* I was looking for, Baker.' For ten seconds, it was quiet between us. I was certain her silence confirmed that she *knew* it was not intended with malice because of the smile on my face. Especially since I rarely smiled and had been told by colleagues that I didn't smile enough.

I checked the time; 10:28 a.m.

Still 90 minutes until lunch. Dismissal for the students was 2:30. It was a long way off till 2:30. I had time to sort through more possibilities about why she needed to see me. On top of this I had students to teach. I was energized by the anticipation of the end of the day meeting. The open-ended reason she provided me, the dismissiveness and the cryptic three words, 'you-know-what.' I tried to recall the tone and cadence of the three words. I couldn't place where she placed the emphasis, was it on the '*know*,' or was it on the '*what*.' As I engaged with the students, their focus on the task of the lesson was positive despite my energy coming from a negative place. That hollowed out place of *no predictability*. The end of the day meeting without context did not sit well with me because replaying multiple scenarios and potential reasons why she wanted to see me brought on the tightened tummy. I can't remember where I heard it, but someone said they knew someone with tummy cancer. I wondered why they would say *tummy* with something that serious and not stomach. Again, I considered the breathing strategy but was sure the students would notice me breathing deliberately. I would do it wrong anyway. So I moved to another thing to consider. The perspective of the other and how the other had limits when it came to seeing me. I again took up my earlier list of *potential reasons* she asked to see me.

=The staff meeting. Moronica. Her list of complaints that she recited about some students' challenging behaviors.

=Dorkus with the pollution soda bottle boats bad idea. The special educator, how I engaged, in voice mimicking her in front of her.

2:30 was on my mind. I had to prepare to be seated in her office, answering questions, and how I would respond to explain my reasoning. I needed one genuine easy-to-remember reply that would apply to any accusation leveled at me. In order for my prepared statement to be effective and to be considered not intentionally abrasive, I would have to be true to the spirit of my shortcomings according to the way I see it, so they can see me right. About how I present when I am working through a problem toward clarification. I have to convey how I'm in two states at once: kind of an excitement and a kind of a dread while in the process of reaching clarification. All three instances with colleagues had a common thing that lacked perception and clarity. With Moronica her long list style of communicating was not orderly, Dorkus's hurried idea of soda bottle boats lacked ecological understanding. Even the mimicking was a clarification. I was providing a full, detailed demonstration of my level of comfort and trust in her. I mirrored her compliment.

10:30 a.m. (4 hours until meeting)

The prepared statement:

I know, at times, people feel I am too much. It is not my intent to make anyone uncomfortable. I also understand that intent and impact have to be considered in the moment. I'm never against anyone here in the workplace. That is against my nature. I want to help my colleagues at work or after work or even before work. Here's why I would happily help them. When they reach out to me for help that is helping me feel included. It means I was included in their thoughts as someone able to provide support. When colleagues ask me for help, it's essentially an accommodation request. It is a communication. I'm there for any and all of you. Is there a way I can be accommodated by you and the team to accept my style of communication as different and not differing.

=Mr. A

=Attention Maps