Things I Didn’t Fully Understand at the Time: Looking back at curiosity, class and the cost of not having language

In the decades before neurodivergence entered everyday language, many parents were left to interpret their children’s behaviour without the understanding we have today. Actions that might now be recognised as curiosity, sensory seeking, or problem-solving were often labelled as naughtiness or defiance.

This reflection looks back at one mother’s experience of raising children without the words or frameworks she now has. It is not about blame or regret, but about learning, forgiveness, and the quiet realisation that what once felt like failure was often simply a difference misunderstood.

Looking Back With New Eyes

Things I didn’t fully understand while my son, who has Asperger’s, and my daughter, diagnosed with ADHD, were growing up have helped me see much more clearly now, especially when talking to friends about their grandchildren.

We are baby boomers. We had our own children back in the 1970s and 80s. We had no idea what autism, ADHD, being on the spectrum, or neurodivergence really meant. These were not words we knew or used in everyday language.

When Autism Was a Word I Didn’t Understand

I did once hear the word autism in 1978. I was working in a bar that had an off-licence attached. I went through to serve a customer in the off-licence, and a middle-aged woman was trying to control a man who she said was her son. He was screaming high-pitched noises and thrashing around.

She told me he was autistic and apologised for his actions. Thank goodness we are more tolerant today.

I asked my mother if she had an understanding of autism, and her words, verbatim, were, “Yes, they’re naughty boys.”

Revisiting My Son’s Childhood Through Another Family

Looking back at my son’s autism, although I had no idea at the time, I recently found myself reflecting deeply after listening to a friend talk about her grandson.

Her grandson, Jules, is a teenager who likes to take things apart, explore how they work, and put them back together if he can.  He dismantled a radio, a car exhaust, and an old analogue clock.

Listening to her, I was taken straight back to my own son’s childhood. 

Curiosity Misread as Destruction

My own son, now 48 and not diagnosed until early adulthood, used to do the same.

We had little money in our house, as I was a single parent working five jobs. I would come home to find things like teaspoons with no scoops left on the handles. I thought he was being destructive and rebellious, reacting to my divorce, my rules, my home, and my expectations.

Later, I learned that he was fascinated by the way sugar changes colour when heated in a spoon rather than a pan. Unfortunately, hot metal expands, softens, and melts.

Golf balls were burned because he wanted to see how long it took to burn through the layers and what would happen underneath each one. Of course, this made them unusable.

Experimentation, Not Bad Behaviour

He obtained a BB gun from somewhere and shot at my cupboards and wardrobes to see the different effects of penetration. The list goes on.

My mother’s words came back to me every time, “naughty boy”.

What I saw as destruction, I now understand was fascination and curiosity about how things are built and how they work.

Had I understood this at the time, I could have channelled his energy and inquisitiveness in different ways rather than punishment and frustration. 

Having little money to replace things, being exhausted from working five jobs, and being the only parent who both provided and enforced boundaries meant that my reactions were often driven by stress and frustration.

Looking back, I know I listened too much to the older generation about how to handle situations. That is something I regret.

Fortunately, I have a son who, as an adult, has told me that he holds no animosity towards the way I handled things. He understands that I did the best I could in the situation we were in, and for that I am deeply grateful.

Watching him bring up his own children and handle tricky situations with such calm, love, and careful explanation leaves me in awe. Perhaps I taught him how not to do things. If I did, full marks to him. He shows the same patience with me as he does with his girls. Lucky me.

Guilt, Grace, and What I Know Now

I still have moments of guilt when I think back, but I also know that I did the best I could with what I knew then. Some of my responses were misguided, but they were never unloving.

We have so much more information available to us today.

So why do children take things apart? Are they being destructive, or are they inquisitive and curious? Is this a natural part of learning?

From my own learning curve, I now understand that it can be many things. It may be part of development. A need to see how things are built and how they work. Sometimes the toys we provide simply do not stimulate children enough, and we do not always get it right.

It may be sensory. Tearing or breaking something can provide important sensory feedback. It can also be emotional, a way of expressing anger or frustration. At times, it may be attention seeking, especially if a child feels left out or overlooked.

Responding With Understanding

Looking back, I believe responses matter as much as behaviour.

Giving children things they are allowed to build with and take apart can help. My own son loved Lego and physical puzzles. Old clocks, broken utensils, or remote controls can be a way for curiosity to be explored safely.

Toys with removable parts that can be put back together can help meet that need.

Teaching boundaries is also important. Asking for permission to dismantle something helps children understand that some things are off limits.

Modelling behaviour matters too. Exploring outside together and showing curiosity about how things work can be powerful.

Most importantly, talking to children and trying to understand why they are taking something apart can change everything.

Closing Reflection

I have written this piece about my son and about looking back at his behaviour as a child, long before we knew he had Asperger’s Syndrome.

What I understand now is this: Curiosity is not defiance, and difference is not failure. Sometimes it is simply a child trying to understand the world in the only way they know how.

SB