Tuesday, September 13, 2016

The Hidden Factor to School Success (or Private School- One Year Later…)

Ben and his classmates listen to a story on Literacy Day last year on Halloween.

Last week we had my son’s annual service plan meeting.  Service plans are the equivalent to an IEP in the private school world.  As I sat at the table, listening to my son’s OT, SLP, and classroom teacher raving about how Ben is meeting and exceeding expectations in all content areas, I reflected back to meetings gone by.  My boy, who at age four would cry when someone put a writing instrument in his hand, is now writing full pages most every day in class, and even writing books at home for fun.  As I listened to the SLP describe how they would be raising the expectations for Ben’s goals, I remembered back to that scared mom that I was when Ben first received his autism diagnosis over three years ago.  I never thought I would be in the place where we are at today.  There is still lots of work to do, but I never could have imagined this place three years ago.

We were recently with family who hadn’t seen Ben in awhile.  They commented on how much he has matured, how much more he’s talking and interacting, how calm and secure he seems.  I see it too, now that I am teaching at his school and he visits me for writing class once every three days.  He sits up straight and listens.  He raises his hand to share.  He completes his work without (too many) reminders.  He doesn’t “stand out” in the classroom as I was once told he did. 

As a wise mom once put it, “Now does not mean forever, and never is a load of crap.”

We are getting there.

And, to be quite honest, my goal is not for Ben to look or act neurotypical (our society’s perception of “normal”).  I do, however, want him to feel happy, confident, and successful, both in school and in life.  And it appears that we are on that path.

If someone were to ask me what brought about this dramatic change in Ben the learner at school, from the highly anxious child who counted the days until the weekend, who could not sit still and focus or do hardly any tasks on his own, who could show that he could spell or count at home or with his OT, but not in the classroom, I would say this.

The difference for us was not more therapy.

The difference was not a special diet.

The difference was not a particular intervention program or person or technique. 

And, while all these factors certainly do help (though in all honesty we’ve never done the special diet thing), the one factor that mattered most of all is the factor I don’t think we talk enough about.

Environment.

Ben struggled in public school, yet he is very smart.  It wasn’t that Ben couldn’t do the work being asked of him.  He had difficulty because of where and how he was expected to do it.  This is not in any way a negative reflection on his teachers.  I have personally known and have the highest respect for all of the teachers Ben has had in school.  That is one of the privileges of being an educator myself.   Ben was not getting what he needed in public schools because the public school environment is not inherently designed for the needs of a child on the spectrum.  And, as I've seen time and again, it's not just autistic kids who are struggling in the public school setting.

Here are five reasons why I believe Ben's new school environment has made all the difference for him.  Please keep in mind that each child is unique, as is each educational environment, so each child will respond differently and progress on his or her individual time table.  We all want our kids to succeed, and it is hard to remember that it is not a race. Also, I wish every child had the opportunity to learn in an environment that matched his or her needs, because I have seen what a striking difference it can make for a child.

The following list describes the environment that works best for our kid.  If your child is struggling in school, I would encourage you to look at these factors and see how they are impacting your own's child's ability to succeed.

1)   Smaller Class Sizes
Smaller class sizes mean that teachers can more easily individualize learning, meet with children in small groups more frequently, and provide each child with the support that he or she needs.  Ben is lucky to be in a classroom with only 8 other students this year.  He does not attend a special autism school or a school with an emphasis on special needs (though some children certainly benefit from specialized schools).  We were just fortunate that this class was created and he had the opportunity to be a student in it.

2)   Reduced Demands on Curriculum Pacing
Ben is a smart boy and has always (okay, mostly) comprehended the content at his grade level.  His greatest difficulty was keeping up with the pace demanded of him in public schools.  The teachers in public school are under enormous pressure to follow a curriculum roadmap and to “get it all in” on a predetermined timeline.  They must move forward in the curriculum, regardless of whether or not all learners are ready for it.  They try to differentiate, but the days go fast and there is never enough time.  Ben needs the flexibility to work at his own pace without feeling pressured to perform and “move on”.  Surprisingly, I have found that in this more relaxed environment he is actually working faster (almost too fast).

3)   Predictable structures to the day

At Ben’s school, the teachers spend time each morning talking through what to expect in a day.  This does a lot to help alleviate Ben’s anxiety, because he knows what to expect.  There are also predictable structures and routines throughout the day.  The schedule is not constantly changing, leaving him to wonder about what will happen next.  Ben has always done best in a classroom with a high amount of structure and predictability.

This year, his classroom teacher also taught in his classroom last year, and his classmates are mostly the same as last year, so the transition into the year was very seamless.  Typically we have to spend time at the beginning of the year talking Ben through what to expect in the new classroom, with the new teacher’s procedures and expectations.  This year, he already knew, and that has made a big difference in his adjustment period to the new year.

4)   Social Learning Is Valued Equally to Academic Learning
Because of the academic demands in public schools and the pressure to perform well on standardized tests, time in the classroom to discuss social skills has dwindled.  Teachers worry that if an administer were to walk into their class and witness something not academic, they would be marked lower on their evaluations.  In the private setting, the teachers have more freedom to talk about social skills.  We have daily morning meetings, which help build class community.  In addition, at Ben’s school, the children eat lunch in the classrooms with the teachers and have more time for center activities and creative play.  This helps to build relationships while fostering creativity and imagination, things that are sadly often missing from the public setting.  In addition, Ben is able to practice the social skills that he definitely needs in a natural, authentic context.

5)   Supports Push Into the Class
Ben’s school follows the inclusion model, so supports such as language therapy push into the classroom.  This allows for more seamless learning.


The moral of the story is this.  Each of us has to make the very personal decision about which learning environment is best for our child or children. Sadly, not all public, private, or charter schools are created equal.  Many parents decide to homeschool, or do a homeschool/private school hybrid.  What is important is that your child feels happy, confident, and successful.   For now, we’ve found such a place.  At least until middle school…pray for us when we have to cross that bridge...

Welcome to the Sensory Blog Hop — a monthly gathering of posts from sensory bloggers hosted by The Sensory Spectrum and The Jenny Evolution. Click on the links below to read stories from other bloggers about what it’s like to have Sensory Processing Disorder and to raise a sensory kiddo!


Tuesday, June 14, 2016

Making Room for Play


Ben won a tiny toy shark from the treasure box at school the other day.  As soon as we got home, he announced that he wanted to play with it in the bathtub.  I convinced him to put the shark in a plastic container filled with water (aka “ the ocean”) instead so I could get going on dinner.  As I chopped vegetables, Ben wandered into the kitchen and asked if he could put a shark tooth in the water.  Absently, I said yes.  Then, in the background I heard a whole dialogue unfolding centering around the shark losing his teeth to the depths of the sea.  After many trips back and forth to his room, the tub quickly filled with a pile of shark teeth, other plastic ocean creatures, and some shells from the beach. 

“Did you know a shark is a fish?” he asked me during one of his many trips into the kitchen.  “Their teeth are very sharp.” 
And, later, I overheard, “Look- it floats.  What else can float on the water?”

As I glanced over, I suddenly realized that Ben had created his very own sensory bin.  Ben is seven now, so we haven’t had sensory bins around for quite awhile.  I used to make them for him when he was three and four years old, and he certainly had plenty of opportunities to explore these back during this preschool years. 

Ben is a first grader.  He attends a private school that offers more choice and creativity than most schools do these days.  However, I know that his day is still mainly filled with reading, writing, and math tasks.   He enjoys school and he loves to learn.  Sadly, this was not always the case.

We are currently living in an era that is pushing more rigorous academics on children at increasingly younger ages.  As an educator, I watch it happen every day.  I also watch many children’s after school hours fill with extra-curricular activities and additional tutoring to help them catch up and close the learning gap.  I've had parents requesting tutoring for their children starting as early as PreK.  In addition, kiddos like mine with special needs often spend their after school time in additional therapies, such as OT and speech.

There is a saying that play is the work of childhood.

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the place in a child’s world for pure, unstructured, play. 

Play with no rules and no agenda. 

Play that is unhurried, simple, and pure.

Ben is the master at this type of play.  I protect this precious time in our day because, even though it may not appear academic or rigorous at first glance,  I know its value.

Who are we to say when a child (or adult, for that matter) is too old for play?  Ben may be learning to read, add, and subtract, but he still needs time to get messy, create, and explore…just like he did when he was four.  If anything, he needs it more now than ever. 



Here are five reasons why I believe in the power of play:

1)   Playing builds creativity

Tonight Ben and I blasted off into outer space on his bed.  Yesterday, his bed was a table at a five-star restaurant where he served me food from all over the world.  Play allows Ben to use his imagination and build flexible thinking.  Plus, it’s fun!

2)   Playing builds strong oral language skills

Ben's imaginary play adventures usually come with a story complete with impromptu dialogue for all participants.  Long before Ben was able to hold a pencil, I taught him how to tell stories.  We would weave tales together, “One day, Ben set sail on the high seas.  But then, a pack of huge, angry sharks attacked the ship….”  When I tell stories with Ben, I always try to use rich vocabulary.  He loves to use words like gargantuan instead of huge, and it makes our stories grander, more suspenseful, and just plain hilarious!

3)   Playing allows for creative problem solving

So often I hear Ben working through social issues through his play.  After reading “Charlotte’s Web” as our bedtime story, I overheard him pretend cooking “wild pigs”, while talking to his “pet pig”.  This was obviously helping him to come to terms with eating meat, an issue Ben worried about throughout the read aloud as Wilber grappled with the fate that pigs face.   Ben loved Wilber's character, but he also loves his bacon.  By distinguishing wild pigs from pet pigs, he was coming to terms with this concept in his own mind.

I’m grateful that play and exploration can take a front stage in his life.  I believe that these opportunities to play, without an agenda, and without direction from any grown-ups actually have huge academic and social benefits.

4)   Playing builds perseverance

Ben loves doing projects that he dreams up from his imagination.  His crayons, scissors, tape, paper, and other supplies are easily accessible on his writing table.  He uses these materials to create projects all the time, with no direction or prompting from me.  Often he gets an idea in his head, but making the idea become a reality can be a challenge.  Tonight he wanted to wrap a piece of paper into a tube shape and tape a quarter into the viewing area.  Then, he wanted to glue to tube so it projected from the paper in 3-D.  The finished product looked something like an elephant’s trunk with a quarter for a nose.  Ben used to get very frustrated when he couldn’t get things to work just the way he wanted them to (such as when his train tracks wouldn't connect just right), but these days he’s learning to work through these minor difficulties without big tears and frustration.

5)   Playing builds an enthusiasm for learning

Ben feels a lot of pride and satisfaction in his projects.  I let him hang his artwork on the walls of his playroom and pretend it’s an art gallery.  He loves taking me on tours, and charging me a quarter to view his masterpieces.   Ben loves to create, explore, and invent.  I don’t tell him to do this- he comes home eager to get started.  Sometimes when I call him to dinner, he’ll say, “I’m working!” and he truly is.  I can think of no work that is more important.

How do you encourage play in your child's (or your own) life?  I'd love to hear your ideas!

Welcome to the Sensory Blog Hop — a monthly gathering of posts from sensory bloggers hosted by The Sensory Spectrum and The Jenny Evolution. Click on the links below to read stories from other bloggers about what it’s like to have Sensory Processing Disorder and to raise a sensory kiddo!


Tuesday, May 10, 2016

The Miracle League: A Sensory Haven for Baseball

Ben practices his swing in preparation for his big hit.

Saturday mornings in the spring have come to mean baseball in our family.  Our little ball player dons his bright orange jersey and matching hat.  He grabs his bat and glove and heads confidently to the field.  I remind him to keep his eye on the ball, and he tells me that he’s going to hit another home run.  Maybe today, he tells me, is the day he will knock that ball over the fence.  At first glance, this may seem like an ordinary day at the baseball field.  But this is no ordinary field, and this is no ordinary league.  This is the Miracle League.

The players on Ben’s team range from four years old to adulthood.  Each player has some form of disability, whether physical, mental, or developmental.  Many of the players face sensory challenges as well.  On this field, however, their disabilities become secondary.  On this field, they are baseball players, and this is their team.

This field is a safe space.  It has been designed especially for them.  The turf is the perfect surface to allow a wheelchair to glide, while also providing cushioning for the medically fragile child.  The bleachers are shaded from the sun, so that the child with the skin condition can still participate in the game.  Each player is provided with a buddy who stays with them for the entire game.  

The rules of the game have been adapted too.  There are no outs in this league.  Every player gets a turn at bat, and they swing until they get a hit.  And every player is supported based on his or her level of need.  Some need very little support.  Some require the guiding hand of the coach to hit the ball.  One player uses a special ball that emits a high-pitched beep to compensate for his visual impairments.  Some players wear noise-cancelling headsets.  Some players whiz around the bases in their wheelchairs while others move more sedately with the support of their buddies.  Some players concentrate fully on the game and crack the ball with astounding power.  Others use the tee to hit the ball with the support of the coach.

Watching my son’s team play baseball is a beautiful thing.  The coaches, the fans, the buddies, and the players all show mutual respect.  Many players have been coming to play baseball with this league for years.  All variations of the game are accepted, and everyone cheers for every player. 

Each time I watch a game, I notice something new.  Before my son’s diagnosis, I had embarrassingly little contact with the special needs community.  Truth be told, I used to avoid those with disabilities because I did not know what to do or what to say.  My son changed all of this for me.  I no longer shy away from those who look or act different, nor do I feel sorry for them. This is not meant to minimize the challenges they face.  We all have challenges in life, and I respect the fact that some of these players have significant struggles.  However, rather than feeling sorry for the boy in the wheelchair, I now appreciate his kind and gentle heart as he spends time with the youngest players.  I notice the girl whose smile shines brightly every single game, despite the limp in her walk.  Still another has sass and spunk to spare, and after she rounds the bases, curtsies at the audience before bouncing off to get a hug from her mom.   The crowd laughs appreciatively at the confident swagger of the teenaged boy with Down Syndrome who points his bat in the direction of left field and then proceeds to knock the ball all the way to the fence.  The coaches patiently guide the hand of a boy who is fixated on twirling a stick that he found on the field.  Rather than removing the stick from his hand, they manage to help him hit the ball while holding the stick at the same time. 



And then, finally, it’s my son’s turn to bat.  He bounces up to the plate, laughing expectantly.  Voices from the stands shout his name in encouragement.  Coach helps him adjust his stance, and he is ready.  He sticks his tongue out in concentration as the pitcher winds up the throw.  Crack!   He knocks the ball deep into right field on the very first pitch.  In a flash, he rounds the bases and sails past home plate, high fiving his coaches and teammates.  Then, he heads into the dugout to guzzle some Gatorade in celebration.

As I watch the game, I cannot help but wonder what our world would be like if it were designed like this league.  How different would our world be if the proper supports were available for children and adults who needed them, whether at school, in the workplace, at the restaurant, or at the local grocery store?  What would happen if we encouraged the strengths of others rather than always fixating on the deficits?  What would happen if we saw one another for who we really are?  What would happen if we stopped feeling sorry for others who are different and stopped shying away?


We have a long way to go before our world mirrors this place of acceptance, where accommodations are provided naturally and without question.  Until that day, I will continue to carve out safe places for my child, and I will enjoy our Saturday morning oasis at the ball field.


Welcome to the Sensory Blog Hop — a monthly gathering of posts from sensory bloggers hosted by The Sensory Spectrum and The Jenny Evolution. Click on the links below to read stories from other bloggers about what it’s like to have Sensory Processing Disorder and to raise a sensory kiddo!




Tuesday, April 12, 2016

You See Me...But Do You Understand?

Ben with his multiple stuffed animals.

You See Me…But Do You Understand?
By: Ben (with help from Mom)

You see me
Acting
Differently from the rest,
But do you understand
All the reasons
Why?

You see me
Laughing
When a baby cries,
But do you understand
That her screams feel like
Feathers tickling my back?

You see me
Looking away
When you speak,
But do you understand
How painful it feels to look you
In the eye?

You see me
Crying
When I am frustrated,
But do you understand
How I hate it when my body feels
Out of control?

You see me
Flapping
My hands in the air,
But do you understand
That flapping is my way of showing
My happiness and joy?

You see me
Acting
Differently from the rest,
But do you understand
That different does not mean

Less?


*For this year's Autism Acceptance Month, I used bits of conversations between Ben and I to form his words into a poem.  I hope it provides you with an understanding of his unique and amazing perspective on the world.

Welcome to the Sensory Blog Hop — a monthly gathering of posts from sensory bloggers hosted by The Sensory Spectrum and The Jenny Evolution. Click on the links below to read stories from other bloggers about what it’s like to have Sensory Processing Disorder and to raise a sensory kiddo!