As I browse through my social media feed, I stumble upon an animated short film that is highly recommended for anyone with a loved one who has ADHD. Curiosity piqued, I click on the video titled “Falling Letters.” With each scene, I can feel my heart racing. The video has garnered over 1.6 million views, and it’s easy to see why. How did the creator so accurately depict the experience of ADHD from a child’s viewpoint?
As a mother of four, I have a child who deals with ADHD and sensory processing challenges. Watching this video prompted an important realization. As parents, we often let our own emotions take center stage when our child is having a tough time, feeling embarrassed or frustrated. But what about how our child feels?
Just that morning, before I watched the video, I had dropped off my oldest child, Lily, at tutoring. Here’s how the rest of the day unfolded.
With an hour to spare, I decided to take my other three kids to the library. Before opening the minivan door, I reminded them to use their “inside voices” and not to run. As soon as I opened the sliding door, my son, Jake, who has ADHD, began twirling and performing karate moves on the sidewalk. Noticing a library patron approaching, I asked him to come closer, repeating my request three times to no avail. By that time, the patron had veered away from us to avoid the chaos. I sighed and handed Jake the library bag filled with the previous week’s books and movies, hoping the weight might provide some calming sensory input. Unfortunately, it didn’t help today.
Upon entering the library, we climbed a short staircase. Jake’s flip-flops echoed loudly, completely undermining our goal of being quiet. We approached the circulation desk, where the librarians greeted us warmly. Jake returned our items, enthusiastically saying “Catch!” to one of the librarians before thrusting the hardcover books into the drop-box with a little too much force.
Next, we headed downstairs to the children’s section. Jake immediately gravitated toward the self-checkout scanner. I gently took it from him and returned it to its place. After a brief chat with the children’s librarians, I turned to find Jake engrossed with the fishing poles and repeatedly clicking a computer mouse nearby.
I firmly reminded him to select just two books and movies. Choosing DVDs turned into a lengthy ordeal that lasted twenty-five minutes. Although he understood the rule, the hundreds of options overwhelmed him. Eventually, he laid out about ten choices right in the middle of the aisle.
In a moment of desperation, I began counting down from ten, informing my kids it was time to finalize their selections. The countdown only escalated Jake’s anxiety, pushing him closer to a meltdown. I knelt down to help him pick two movies.
When we finally approached the checkout desk, Jake lost interest within moments, distracted by the playroom next door, and his siblings followed suit. I could easily supervise them from where I stood. I reminded them we had only five minutes to play before needing to pick up Lily. While chatting with one of their teachers, I suddenly heard the unmistakable sound of plastic blocks crashing. Jake was smashing the block towers with reckless abandon. I crouched down and whispered, “Please be gentle.” But for Jake, “being gentle” didn’t provide the sensory stimulation he craved.
This brief 40-minute snapshot of our library visit illustrates what living with ADHD can look like from a parent’s perspective. After watching the animated video, I realized I often focus too much on my own frustrations and fail to consider how ADHD impacts Jake.
The video is silent, but any parent familiar with ADHD knows the unspoken struggles that unfold in those quiet moments. Our children are often labeled as distracted, impulsive, or aggressive. Some dismiss ADHD as a mere excuse for poor behavior. Newsflash: children can hear what you say about them.
You might wonder why we don’t simply medicate our kids. Some families choose that route, but it’s not straightforward. Common side effects of stimulants can include sleep issues and stomach problems, with potential risks of dependency. Finding the right medication and dosage can be a lengthy trial-and-error process, requiring frequent doctor visits and can be quite expensive.
Others have suggested that Jake needs more discipline, perhaps martial arts classes or alternative remedies like essential oils, CBD, or omega-3 supplements. There are even diets, like the Feingold diet, which eliminate certain food ingredients.
What I wish for others to see are all the wonderful traits Jake possesses: he is friendly, creative, and intelligent. While some may view his distractibility as a flaw, I see it as a gift—children with ADHD notice details that others often overlook. Where other kids might pass by a flower, Jake would stop to observe it, appreciate its beauty, and perhaps use it to create something imaginative.
The most touching moment in the video comes when the child is picked up by his father, both smiling. It beautifully conveys the importance of a loving and supportive parent-child relationship, empowering the child and affirming their worth.
Yes, ADHD poses challenges for both the child and parent. However, “Falling Letters” encourages us to walk alongside our children, appreciating the unique beauty in their experiences.
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Summary
The animated video “Falling Letters” poignantly captures the daily experiences of a child with ADHD, prompting parents to reflect on their own feelings and the emotions of their children. It emphasizes the importance of understanding and supporting children with ADHD, highlighting their unique perspectives and strengths.