Showing posts with label IEP. Show all posts
Showing posts with label IEP. Show all posts

Wednesday, May 13, 2015

Tips for an Effective IEP meeting



*Please keep in mind that the advice and information in this article applies to the specific rules and guidelines for the state of Florida.  You can find out more about Florida law at www.wrightslaw.com.  Rules do vary from state to state and in different countries.

Tomorrow is Ben’s yearly IEP review meeting.  Ben received his autism diagnosis almost two years ago, and not long after, his initial IEP was written prior to him entering prekindergarten.  That IEP was revised at the end of PreK at his kindergarten transition meeting.  Now, as his kindergarten year draws to a close, we are getting ready to review the IEP yet again.

I am no stranger to IEPs.  As an educator I have sat in on many IEP meetings throughout the years.  I was responsible for implementing IEP goals as a classroom teacher and I was a member of a team that helped develop those goals for my students’ IEPs.  In recent years, I’m called upon to sit in on IEP meetings from time to time as a content specialist.

I have learned over these past few years that, despite my years of experience in the school system, it feels very different to be sitting on the parent side of the table.  

My journey into the world of parental advocacy has given me newfound empathy for parents navigating the process, especially those who do not have the resources or the background knowledge of how the system works.  We all want what is best for our child but round table meetings filled with school officials can be intimidating, especially when educational terminology and data begins to get thrown around. 

And, so, as I prepare for tomorrow’s meeting, I decided to take a moment to share five tips to setting the foundation for a successful IEP meeting.  I have been fortunate to have positive, collaborative relationships with all of the educators who have worked with Ben, but I believe that this is more than luck. 

Sometimes I hear parents describing how they prepare for their kid's IEP meeting, but it sounds more like a solider preparing to go into battle.  Personally, I believe this is the wrong approach to take.

Instead, I offer you five tips for setting the groundwork for a successful IEP meeting.

1)   Do your homework first

Make sure you come to the IEP meeting prepared.  This starts with understanding how the IEP works. 

An IEP stands for an Individual Education Plan.  It is a legal document that is developed with a team of people (see #3) that defines the goals and accommodations that your child will receive in the coming year.  It is completely individualized (hence the name) and tailored to your child’s specific needs.  It also describes the setting in which your child will be instructed for the majority of the day and any additional services your child may receive.  To learn more about IEPs and how they work, click here.  

Prior to Ben’s meeting, I reviewed his previous IEP and collected data of my own, noting his progress from my perspective.  I wrote goals that I believed would be appropriate for him (You can research goals on the Internet) and provided each member of the team with a list of my recommendations a few weeks prior to the meeting.

Make sure you know your rights.  You are allowed to bring someone with you to the meeting.  This could be a person with additional knowledge of your child, such as a private OT or SLP, or a person with knowledge of the IEP process, such as an educational advocate.  Or, you could simply bring someone as moral support for you, or a person who can take notes for you so that you can focus on the conversations that are happening at the meeting.  I highly encourage you to bring someone with you to the meeting, because you will feel at ease with more familiar faces at the table.

2)   Start positive

Even if you are unhappy with how the school is handling your child’s services, it is never wise to start the meeting with a negative or hostile tone.  Coming to a meeting with “guns blazing” forces people to take sides, draw lines, and put up walls.  There may come a point when you reach an impasse and cannot agree with what the other members of the team propose, and your procedural safeguards (which are your rights as a parent) highlight what to do to pursue due process and mediation, but it is never wise to start down that road prematurely.  You’ll get a lot farther towards getting help for your child if everyone feels that they are working on the situation together rather than having their hand forced.

It’s nice to bring something to share at the table.  A box of donuts or a bag of chocolates is a nice gesture of goodwill.

Start with an appreciation to the school or your child’s teacher.  Share an anecdote of something that your child did recently that highlighted his progress or surprised you in a good way.  Celebrate a milestone, however small. 

And, as the discussions happen during the meeting, remember to view your child through the lens of his or her strengths and with a growth mindset.  Help guide the conversation around how to build on these strengths rather than focusing on weaknesses.  Weaknesses certainly need to be addressed, but never let the team lose sight that at the center of these conversations is your child.  And no one knows your child better than you.

3)   Remember that we are a team…

It is important to not lose sight of the fact that all decisions that are made at an IEP meeting are team decisions.  And, as a member of the IEP team, your input matters.  Here are a few important things to keep in mind in regards to team dynamics.  First, no decisions about your child should ever be made without your knowledge or consent.  The school is required to send you prior written notice before a meeting occurs.  Meetings happen annually to review your child’s IEP (as in the meeting I’m having tomorrow).  As a team member, you also have the right to request a meeting at any time for any reason.  In addition, if the team plans to change your child’s placement (for example- from a regular education classroom to a self-contained environment of all children with disabilities) you would be invited to attend the meetings and take part in the decision process.  Deciding on a child’s placement prior to a meeting such as this is known as predetermination and is illegal. 

Keep in mind, however, that not every member of the team has to agree.  Certain forms that you sign at these meetings have a place to sign to show whether you agree or disagree with the terms set forth in the IEP.  However, because decisions are team decisions, majority rules, though you do ultimately have the right do withdraw your consent if you are truly unhappy with the team decision.  Just know that there are consequences to this choice and make sure you have fully researched the law before doing so.

The other important factor to remember here is the essence of what the word team means.  Webster’s definition of a team is “a group that comes together to achieve a common goal.”  In this case, the common goal is making decisions that are in the best interest of your child.  While some may disagree on the path to get there, this should always be at the forefront of any decisions that are made.  It’s important to strike a balance between listening to what the other members of the team have to say and being an active contributor to the discussion.

Here are some key players who will most likely take part in your IEP meeting.

*Your child’s classroom teacher-
This person should always be in attendance at any meeting regarding your child because they provide the much-needed classroom perspective.  They work with your child in the classroom every day and know his or her academic needs well.  However, they may not know as much about special education rules and policies or specific rules and regulations as others at the table.

*Your child’s SLP (speech/language pathologist)-
If your child is diagnosed with autism, most likely speech and/or language are an issue for him.  Pragmatics (or social) language are usually a weak area for those on the spectrum.  The SLP will have a good working knowledge of the goals that your child is working towards in the small group, therapeutic environment.  Sometimes SLPs push into the classroom and work directly with the child in that setting.  The SLP can provide valuable input about how your child’s behavior looks in a small group (which may be quite different from the classroom perspective) and provide specific support with writing goals and accommodations for the IEP, including social goals.  They may not have as much in-depth working knowledge of the general education curriculum, but they will provide lots of advice for how to accommodate and support the child within the classroom and throughout the day.  They can work with the classroom teacher to develop interventions, such as picture schedules and facilitate social skills opportunities.

*Your child’s OT (occupational therapist)-
Another vital member of the team is the OT.  Children on the spectrum usually have a variety of sensory needs that can and should be addressed through occupational therapy.  A good OT will work with the child through the therapy setting, but will also work side by side with the classroom teacher to design a sensory diet, which are a set of supports to help a child succeed throughout the school day.  30 minutes of OT twice a week in a pullout sensory gym is not nearly enough sensory support for most of our kids.  It’s important to put interventions in place, such as picture schedules, weighted vests, fidget toys, cool down areas, and whatever else your child may need.  The OT can help orchestrate these things.  OTs also work to help develop fine motor goals, which usually impact a child’s writing most in school. 

*The ESE (exceptional student education) resource teacher-
This person may have different titles in different states and countries, but their role is to support the child’s academic goals as written on the IEP.  If your child is in a regular classroom setting, this person usually works with the child during certain times of the day, and either pulls them into a separate classroom or works directly with the child in the classroom for additional support.  This person is usually the case manager for the child’s IEP, so they are your “go-to” person when you have questions or changes that need to be made (or if you want to call a meeting).  If a child is in a full-time classroom with only other children with disabilities (such as an autism unit), this person may be the child’s primary teacher.  This person has a strong working knowledge of how an IEP works, your child’s goals, and special education law.  They plan with the classroom teacher to make accommodations for your child, such pulling your child into a small group to give him extra time on a test. 

*The school psychologist- 
This person is usually shared between several schools.  Her role is to complete evaluations on your child.  Your child will be evaluated prior to the initial IEP being written, and then evaluated every three years (unless you or another team member feel the need for evaluations to happen sooner).  This person can also be called upon to do behavioral or academic observations in the classroom and explain reports or assessments as needed. 

* The school social worker- 
This is another roving position often shared amongst schools.  This person will do a social work assessment (which is a long question and answer session with the parent) prior the child’s IEP being written in many cases.  This person may do home visits at times and provide suggestions and support for parents on how to support the child at home.  They are often the bridge between the home and the school.

The social worker can also do behavioral observations and provide valuable insights into social and emotional goals.   This person sometimes leads small social skills groups at the school as well.  They have a strong working knowledge in the area of behavior.  Schools sometimes have another team member called the behavior specialist who also specializes in behavior.

*The ESE specialist- 
There are times when the ESE specialist may be invited to attend your child’s meeting.  These roles look different in different places, but in our county this is a district person assigned to a certain set of schools and they oversee decisions that are made at a school and district level.  If you are requesting a major change to the IEP that may be a bit unorthodox or will potentially cost the district money (such as a request for a one on one aide), the ESE specialist will most likely be invited to attend the meeting.  You could request that this person attend your child’s meeting if you feel you need the perspective of a district person but their busy schedules may not always allow them to attend.

*The school administration- 
The principal and assistant principal usually do not attend IEP meetings, but they can also certainly be invited to attend.  If you are requesting accommodations or services that will ultimately cause changes at the school level, then you may want to request that the principal attend the meeting.  The principal provides a school-wide perspective and has knowledge of the school budget and how the master schedules are designed. 

*Other Team Members- Other members who may be present at the IEP team include (but are not limited to) instructional coaches at the school (which is the role that I play at my school) who offer curriculum expertise, ESOL teachers (for students who speak a language other than English.  These teachers can offer translation to parents), the school guidance counselor, and the list goes on an on.

As you can see, the table can quickly fill with lots of people!  The good news is that each person brings his or her own unique perspective and area of expertise.  The key is to get to know each “player” on the team on an individual level if possible.  Reach out to them prior to the meeting.  Find out their area of strengths and seek their support when necessary.  Don’t be afraid to ask for what you need, whether it is a behavioral observation on your child or an explanation of a psychological report. 

If you feel that the meeting is moving too fast and you are getting confused, ask for clarification or for something to be repeated.  Most people are more than happy to help in any way they can.  We educators get used to speaking our own language of alphabet soup and sometimes need to be reminded that others don’t always understand what we mean.  Don’t’ be afraid to ask!

4)   …and be an active member of the team
Come prepared to the meeting.  As I mentioned previously, do your homework before coming.  Remember, others at the table may be able to speak to the curriculum and the technical parts of the IEP, but you know your child best.  No one else has the unique perspective that you bring, and that should be valued in all conversations. 

If you feel in your gut that a decision that is being proposed is wrong for your child, don’t be afraid to respectfully speak up and ask probing questions.  You also don’t have to feel pressured to sign anything at the meeting.  You can always take time to think about something and sign later.  Also, don’t be afraid to ask for data.  All IEP goals should be measurable, and the team should have charts and graphs to share with you.  If not, ask to see them.  Ask how your child performed on recent assessments.  Ask the team to quantify how your child is progressing towards the goals. And if your child is having difficulty with his or her behaviors in school, ask them to be specific about their concerns.  What exactly do these behaviors look like?  When and where do they occur?  With what frequency?  And what interventions are being put into place to address these behaviors?  The more questions you ask, the clearer picture everyone at the table will have about what is happening and what needs to happen.  Just make sure that your questions are worded in a respectful, not accusatory manner. 

5)   Learn the art of respectful advocacy
There will be times when you may feel that your child needs services and supports that he or she is not currently be receiving.  In these cases, it’s important to be ready to be an advocate for your child.  In my experience I have found that the educators who I’ve worked with have the child’s best interest at heart, but district and school policies will usually only allow them to advocate to a certain extent. 

As a parent, it is your job to advocate for your child. 

You cannot leave this to others to do alone, though certainly you can seek the support of members of the team in your pursuit of your child’s needs. 

When you are advocating for a service or support, first make sure that you understand the law.  Know what is within your child’s rights and what you can legally request.  Be prepared to speak, or even quote the law if necessary.  Be ready to bring an advocate to the meeting to speak to these things for you. 

At times you might even want to pay to have an independent evaluation of your child so that you have additional data as support.  I always bring my own data to the meetings so that I can share specifics to support the points that I want to make. 

Above all, seek to negotiate with the members of the team rather than bully them into giving your child what you believe that they deserve. If you find that your child is in a truly toxic environment, surrounded by people who just don’t “get it”, then you need to question whether this school is right for your child to begin with.   

I think it’s important to note that we also need to teach our children to become self-advocates.  When a child reaches high school age, they should begin to attend their own IEP meetings and be part of the process of setting the goals, but I plan to involve Ben long before this.   Ultimately we want to help our child to become independent, confident, and capable adults, and this includes teaching them to become their own advocate.

Some people say that I am lucky to have such a strong, supportive team surrounding my son, but I would argue that luck has nothing to do with it. 

These things are carefully built over time.

I did my research and looked long and hard before placing Ben at the school where he currently attends. 

I work to build relationships with the people at the school who care for my son every day.

I stay in communication with these team members and we discuss his progress regularly.

Luck has no part in building a strong team.


But a little chocolate never hurts.  J

Friday, April 17, 2015

Day 17: Acceptance is Learning and Growing

My post today is a bit about Ben, but more about my reflections of my time as a classroom teacher.  Whenever I learn about autism or sensory processing, I first think about this new understanding from the perspective of helping my son, but then I think about the larger impact in my work as an educator.  The techniques and truths that I have learned will benefit more than just my son.  

Today's post is a self-reflection.  As with most of my posts, it is based on my unique perspective and experiences, but I hope that you can gain some insights from them that can translate to your personal circumstance, whether you are a parent, teacher, autistic adult, or simply an interested reader.

Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve enjoyed learning.  That was the major reason that I became a teacher.  I love kids but, even more so, I enjoy helping others learn.  I love watching the look in someone's eye when they "get it".  I love feeling the energy and buzz that comes with learning.

I still work closely with teachers, but I no longer teach in the classroom. 

I thought I did a pretty good job as a classroom teacher.  My students were generally happy and they made learning gains.  I spent lots of time planning with my colleagues.  I spent lots of time thinking through the lessons I would teach.  And, during the school day, I worked hard every minute.  I didn’t sit behind my desk- I was up teaching the kids.  I worked hard after school too.  I was one of the teachers who the custodian had to kick out in the evenings.  I was devoted to my job.  Still am.

After two years of learning about sensory processing and autism, I now realize that if I were ever to go back into the classroom, I would do so many things differently. 

Here is what I know now that I didn’t understand then…

1)   I didn’t understand OTs.
Let me start by saying that I love the OTs in Ben’s life.  They are the critical factor to helping him achieve at school.  But back before Ben's diagnosis, I didn’t understand their role or how what they were doing in therapy directly benefited the students in my classroom.  To my untrained eye, it looked like they were playing games and if I were to be completely honest I probably harbored a little irritation that they were taking time away from the real work the kids needed to do in the classroom.  Now I know I was so, so wrong.  First, OT is fun.  Sadly, if school in general were more fun, kids would probably learn more!  Secondly, the games played in OT all have a necessary purpose.  For example, when kids swing on the monkey bars, it actually builds the muscles needed for fine motor skills, skills like writing essays.  Back then I had no idea about a sensory diet.  I knew that kids needed time to run off their energy, but I didn’t understand the power of a five minute energizer in the class.  I see now how the work that OTs do has a direct impact on classroom academic performance.  If a kid is not in a calm, alert state, learning is nearly an impossibility.  I wish I would have understood the power of Bridges and Brain Gym and the other tools that were put in place early in my teaching career to support the body/brain connection.  I would have used them much, much more.

2)   I didn’t understand sensory behaviors.
As a teacher, I thought I understood student behavior.  I thought I was great at handling behavior “issues” because I almost never had to send a kid to the principal’s office.  I could handle almost anything myself.  I knew about attention-seeking behaviors, students behaviors to gain power and control, defiant and aggressive behaviors.  You name it- I’d dealt with it.  However, I never truly understood the impact of the sensory world on a person’s behavior.  It didn’t occur to me nearly often enough that some of the behaviors that I was seeing were not a child trying to cause me difficulty.  I didn’t understand that the child who fell out of his seat may have been trying so hard to pay attention to me that he literally couldn’t stay in his seat and pay attention at the same time.  I didn’t understand that the child tapping his pencil while he worked wasn’t doing it for the express purpose of annoying me (well- maybe sometimes...).  It was probably his way of organizing his thinking.  If I had understood these sorts of things, I would have punished less and put more strategies in place to support the children’s sensory needs.

3)   I didn’t understand autism at all.
In my time as a classroom teacher, I never had a student on the autism spectrum in my class.  I knew of these children in my school, but they were always in the self-contained classrooms.  If I had been given a child on the spectrum to teach, I would like to believe that I would have read everything I could on the subject so that I could have educated myself.  I would like to believe that I would have sought input from the experts at my school to help me and attended trainings if I could.  These past two years have taught me a lot about autism, and I hope that the lessons I’ve learned would have transferred into my teaching.  I have learned that children on the spectrum need structure and predictability.  They need classroom routines that are posted and stay consistent from day to day.  They are typically visual learners.  They need to be warned before sudden changes in their routine.  Social stories are so helpful, because you can read a story of what’s going to happen, and it helps to prepare them for this change. They are literal thinkers.  Expressions like "This is a piece of cake" are often confusing to them.   I have also learned that autism is a spectrum, and most likely I taught an undiagnosed autistic student at some point in the past and just didn’t know it.  I hope I served that child well.

4)   I didn’t understand IEPs nearly well enough.
IEPs (Individual Education Plans) are written for a student with disabilities to outline the individual goals and objectives for that calendar year, based on the assessment information collected on that child.  When I was a teacher I relied too much on the special education teachers who worked with me to know the child’s goals on the IEP.  I looked at their IEPs from time to time (mainly for their testing accommodations) but didn’t keep them in the forefront of my planning for that child.  I didn’t collaborate frequently enough with the ESE teacher.  I wish I would have utilized the experts in my school more when I had difficulty with students rather than trying to figure out the best course of action on my own.

5)   I didn’t differentiate nearly enough.
As a teacher, I spent a lot of time and energy thinking about how to group students.  I thought about which child shouldn’t be sitting next to which child.  I thought about who should go in which reading group together based on reading levels.  I even thought about how to create assignments for the various learning levels in my room.  But as a teacher I still defaulted (subconsciously) to teaching in the ways that worked best for my own personal learning style.  I think that we often teach others in the ways that we ourselves learn best.  If I were to go back in the classroom now I would talk less and observe my students more in order to find the right teaching style to meet the needs of my unique group of learners.

Teaching is a hard job.  Those who have never taught have no idea just how grueling and also rewarding it is.  Teachers are a blessing and a gift because they touch the lives of our children every single day. 

I am grateful every day for the work teachers do. 

I am in awe of them and seek to make their lives easier whenever I can.

I am so glad that Ben has an amazing teacher and team that works with him every day.  I am grateful that they have the benefit of understanding more about sensory processing and autism then I did when I was a classroom teacher.

There is a saying that when you know better, you do better.  My eyes have been opened to a whole new sensory world, thanks to my son.  

I hope that by sharing my journey with others, they too can learn and grow. 


It will be interesting to see what I have learned in five years' time. 

Saturday, April 11, 2015

Day 11: Acceptance is Presuming Competence

Ben will never forget the day that he toppled off his bicycle, and neither will I!

The school year is winding down.

Ben’s IEP review meeting is drawing near.

Time to dig out Ben's IEP and assessment reports to familiarize myself with them once again.

As I read through the evaluator’s comments from his initial assessment, I’m struck with the same chills that I always have reading these reports.  

I always get the strong sense that this one report has completely failed to capture the rich complexity that is my son.  

It is a snapshot in time of his abilities and struggles.  

And, while the snapshot is an accurate depiction of that moment, it is incomplete.

The report states that “Ben was heard to communicate in sentences but is not engaging in a give and take conversation.  He had difficulty responding to questions that were asked of him, often repeating what was asked.  Scripting was observed.  Most of his speech was understandable, but Ben did not look at the evaluator when speaking…”

Sometimes days our conversations happen just as this evaluator has described.  On those days, our conversations seem to go in circles.

And while it would be tempting to assume that these repetitive conversations reveal low cognitive abilities, I know better.

Because then there are times when we talk about concepts that are far beyond his years.

And that is why I believe in presuming competence.

Presuming competence is an act of faith.

It is belief that a person understands even if they don't appear to comprehend, or even to be listening and paying attention to what is happening.

Presuming competence doesn’t mean that the person understands it all right now.

Presuming competence means allowing a person to process information at his own speed.  It is trusting that, one day, all the dots will connect and the pieces will come together in the person’s mind.

Presuming competence requires incredible patience, but it is worth the wait.

Ben may not show that he has processed a situation until days, weeks, or even months later. 

He returns to pivotal events in his life again and again.  He asks question after question, clearly rolling the concepts around in his mind.  Each time he brings the conversation back, he probes a little deeper, uncovering a new layer of complexity.

Like the time he fell off his bicycle.

I’ll never forget the day.  

I was walking behind him and I watched his bike speeding faster and faster as it raced down the hilly sidewalk.

At first it was fun for him.  We don’t have hills like that in Florida.

I yelled for him to slow down.  At first I don’t think he wanted to because he was enjoying the sensation.  And then he couldn't.  And then he lost control as he barreled into the street.  I watched the whole thing happening, but I was much too far away to do anything about it.

By then, he had left me far behind.  I raced to him.  He was crumpled in a ball under his bike.  He looked so small and blood was everywhere.  I still remember pressing the wound in my bare hand as blood dripped onto the sidewalk.  I remember carrying him up that hill as I yelled for my dad, who was mowing the lawn- hoping he would see me and come help.  I yelled louder and louder in desperation until finally he heard me and came running to help.

Days later Ben wanted to walk down that sidewalk again and see the blood.  He wanted to retrace his steps on the route to the accident.  It was as if he was memorizing the scene in his mind.  And then, we turned around and walked back to my parent's house.

A year later, as we sat at a restaurant waiting for dinner, Ben looked at me and asked, “Why did you yell?”

By now I’m used to conversations that start in the middle.

“Yell about what, Buddy?” I asked.

“Why did you yell when I fell off my bicycle?” he asked.

“I yelled because I needed your Papa’s help,” I explained.

“What’s blood made out of?” he asked next and we talked about blood and then the conversation became a circle of questions about what different parts of our body were made out of.  

A few months later, he would bring the bike accident up again in the car on the way to school.

“When I fell off my bike, I bleed.  But I did not die.” he explained.

"No, buddy, you did not die," I repeated.  "You were fine."

“I want to be with you forever,” he added.

"You'll be with me a long time," I assured him and secretly hoped it would be true.

“Will I live to be 100 years?” he wanted to know. 

Another recurring conversation we have is about death and heaven. 

Ben has been fortunate that he has not had to deal with much loss in his six years on this planet.  Last year Ben won a free goldfish during an Easter egg hunt.  Despite our best attempts to keep the darn fish alive (which included purchasing a rather expensive tank, filtration system, and specialized water and food), the fish eventually died a few weeks later. 

One morning when we woke up and looked into the tank, the little fish was resting at the bottom.  I knew the creature had finally passed away.  When Ben looked into the tank, I explained to Ben that his fish’s body was now like an empty shell.  His fish wasn’t alive anymore.  I then quickly ushered him out of the room so that Dad could take care of the disposal.  We did not replace the fish, and Ben really didn’t ask many more questions about the fish at the time.

Weeks and weeks later, Ben brought up the goldfish again. 

“What’s dead mean, Mommy?”  he asked.

“When someone dies, they are no longer alive on this Earth.  Their body gets buried in the ground.”

“Will the fish go to heaven with Michael Jackson?” he asked. 

Now that question would most likely seem odd to an outsider, but I knew exactly why he asked this.

Ben went through a Michael Jackson phase where he loved hearing his music on the radio.  We didn’t encourage this fascination, but it persisted for a few months anyway. 

In one casual conversation over a year ago I had mentioned that Michael Jackson had died, because Ben wanted to see him in concert.  On several occasions since then, Ben has talked about Michael Jackson in heaven. 

“What’s heaven look like?” he asked next. 

“No one knows for sure,” I answered.  “But the great thing is that one day we will all be together in heaven forever.”

He paused and I could tell that his mathematical brain was trying to calculate eternity.

Just because Ben often speaks in simple sentences with speech errors that sound “cute," it belies his age and the deep thoughts that are well beyond his years. 

Yesterday a hailstorm hit my parent’s house and the house of my brother and sister and law. 

My mother sent pictures of the balls of hail. 

Ben studied the picture and asked a variation of a familiar script.

“What’s hail made out of?” he asked.  He always wants to know what things are made out of.

“Hail is made out of ice that falls from the sky.”  I patiently explained. 

“Why?”  he asks. 

“Hail is one kind of storm, like a tornado or a hurricane.” 

What’s a tornado made out of?”  he asked next. 

At first glance, it would appear that our conversation was stuck, as if revolving in circles back to the same ideas over and over.  I imagine that this is probably similar to what the evaluator must have heard when she had a conversation with him.  But on that day our conversation went on.

After we discussed tornadoes a bit more, he wanted to watch a video of a tornado, and so we did.  The video showed the funnel cloud moving towards the camera and then the destruction after the storm.  The clip ended with a man standing in rubble where his house had once been. 

“Is Nana and Papa’s house gone?”  he asked. 

“No, their house is fine,” I answered. 

“Did the hail destroy the house?”  he pressed again. 

“No, buddy, it’s little hail, and their house is strong.  It is fine.” 

“Is our house strong too?”  he wanted to know. 

“Yes, buddy, our house is strong.  And if a storm is coming, we’ll know it and will go where it is safe.” I reassured him.

"God keeps you safe," he replied and headed up the stairs to bed.

It’s tempting to look at the surface and assume that a child on the spectrum is capable of literal thinking only. 

It’s tempting to believe what we often hear- that those on the spectrum aren't capable of thinking deep thoughts, empathizing with others, or making inferences. 

I believe that our children know and see a lot more than we think they do. 

I have learned to trust in son’s capability to understand concepts on a much deeper level than I can even imagine.


I have learned to presume competence.