The peril of labels

Labels can be great. In fact, if every one of them had words like Karen Millen or L. K. Bennett on them, I'd be the world's biggest label fan. Labels can tell you instantly what to expect and how to characterise something in this increasingly confusing world in which we are raising our kids. Sometimes, however, labels just make you lazy.

 

This won't be a surprise to anyone with more than two children, but my middle child was a handful from the time he entered primary school. When my phone rang in the late morning or early afternoon, I had to fight the urge to put on a strange accent and insist that my son's teacher had got the wrong number. I resisted, however, wincing at the latest instalment of Today's News in the difficult world of Child No. 2.

 

Book throwing was probably the least offensive of the activities that were reported back to me, with matters ultimately escalating to the stage where a visit to a private psychiatrist was deemed necessary. She diagnosed his with ADHD and to my horror, suggested that he might also be autistic; something that could not be confirmed until he was called for assessment by the Child and Adolescent Mental Health Service (CAMHS).

 

It took nearly seven years, but last year my son was eventually diagnosed with Asperger's Syndrome; a developmental disorder on the autistic spectrum. In the meantime, with the help of an exceptional special needs assistant, he had matured into a really interesting, highly entertaining, and sometimes moody 14-year-old – in other words, a perfectly normal teenager.

 

We took the decision not to sit him down and tell him about his diagnosis, partly because his father dismisses all such assessments as pure nonsense (to put it politely) and partly because he is exactly the same child he always was, with or without a label. I also don't want him thinking he can get away with bad behaviour just because he has a convenient tag to pin on it.

 

Classifying a child as having ADHD or Asperger's  can be helpful if the child gets the resources needed to help them achieve their potential. Sometimes, however, I think it's just a convenient way to let them – and us - off the hook.

Aoife O'Carroll is a separated mum living in Co Kerry with her two boys aged 17 and 14, and a girl aged 10.