Sensory Tools in the Classroom

In this picture, my son was getting ready to explore an animal skull on a field trip.  

I recently read a discussion post on a sensory processing board that I follow.  I scanned the post quickly as I scrolled through my newsfeed.  The post was written by a mom who was looking for a chew necklace for her school-aged son.  I noticed that several people had already responded to her, so I almost kept on scrolling.  It was her last sentence that made me pause and slow down to read more carefully.  She was asking advice on a necklace that wouldn’t attract any extra attention to her boy.  I’m paraphrasing here, but the gist was that the mom claimed that her child had been bullied in the past for wearing these types of necklaces and she needed something that would meet his sensory needs without making him a target. 

I felt my pulse rising as I reread the mom’s heartfelt plea again.

Her boy had a need to chew, but other children bullied him because of it.

I wish the example above was a rare exception to the rule.  I wish that our sensory kiddos lived in a society where acceptance was the norm and our kids wouldn’t even get a second glance for using the tools they need, whether they be noise cancelling headsets, weighted vests, or even chew necklaces.  Sadly, these stories are all too common. 

Now I’m not here to judge the teacher or the classroom of the example above.  I’m a teacher and I know that there are always two sides to every story.  However, I have also witnessed firsthand that a classroom community can be designed with equity in mind.  I’m going to share some examples of my classroom setup here in the hopes that it will spark some ideas for the sensory kiddo (or kiddos) in your life. 

Let me start by saying that I teach in a small private school.  I have students in my classroom with and without disabilities.  It is an inclusion setting.  I teach in a co-teach setting (two teachers plus one full time resource teacher supporting two classes).  That said, I’ve taught in much the same way in the public school setting as well and I have seen many colleagues use these techniques as well.  The bottom line is- I know a classroom can be designed with all learners in mind.  These sensory tools can (and should!) be implemented in any learning environment where they are needed.  And it’s not hard to do!

Here’s what I have done in my classroom to help my students understand the purpose of sensory tools and make them not just acceptable, but actually “cool” to use.

Building a Class Community:  Fair is not equal

I work hard to build a classroom community that values social/emotional learning as much as (if not more than) academic learning.  Students learn thinking skills in my class, but they also learn to be a kind person, a listener, and a friend.  I teach these social skills explicitly, just like I would any reading or math skill.  Each morning we have a class meeting, which is our community time of the day.  So many important talks happen during these meetings and they go a long way towards building mutual respect.

At the beginning of the year I spend a lot of time with the children in my class talking about how our brains all work differently.  The children discover their learning style.  Some children are visual learners, some are auditory, and some are kinesthetic.  Some learn though music and rhythm while others have strengths in the area of science and nature.  One type of intelligence isn’t better or worse than another, but understanding our unique learning style helps us to know our strengths and also our limitations. 

The children also learn about growth mindset.  The children learn that our brain is a muscle that can grow with practice.  They learn that mistakes are a necessary part of the learning process.  Without mistakes we cannot learn and so I teach the children not to fear mistakes but to ask what they can learn from them.  (Our class mantra is, “Hey, we all make mistakes!”)  The words “I can’t” aren’t part of our vocabulary (that’s fixed mindset).  Instead, we say, “I cant…yet”.

After the children have a general understanding of how their brains work, we talk about how fair is not equal, which means that some of us need certain tools to help our brain learn and to help keep our body calm.  At the beginning of the year especially I allowed all of the kids to experience these sensory tools in our classroom.  Then, as the year went on, there would be times when a kid would ask to use a T stool or the noise cancelling headphones and I would have to explain that another classmate needed it more.  No one questions this because in our class each person gets what they need, even if it’s different for each person. 

The Tools We Use

Alternative Seating

There are no desks in my classroom.  Students sit at table teams, but there are a variety of options for places to sit (or stand).

In my class we are lucky to have 6 T-stools for the children to use.  A T-Stool is a chair with one leg and a rubber stopper on the bottom.  The children get lots of authentic movement when sitting on a T-stool because they have to move slightly all the time to keep the stool balanced (and yes, many fall at first as they learn the fine art of balance).  These are a hot commodity in my classroom.  We also use milk crates with a foam seat on top for children who prefer to kneel.  My partner teacher also has high tables for children who prefer to stand.  We also have comfy couches and chairs in the reading area for independent reading time, and wiggle cushions for children who need to get their wiggles out on the carpet.  We’ve talked about getting an exercise ball or two for the class as well, but for now the seating options that we have seem to meet the needs of the children that we have.

Focus Tools

Many of the children in my classroom are easily distracted by background noises. 

We have two sets of noise cancelling headsets and they’ve been so successful that I’ve ordered 5 more pairs.  The original sets were extras that my son no longer needed after we bought him a new pair.  Typically you read about noise cancelling sets for kids on the autism spectrum, but I tried them with a boy who has focus and attention issues during independent work time.  His eyes immediately lit up when he realized that the background sounds disappeared.  That, coupled with a quiet table to himself allowed him to get his research project finished.  He was so proud of himself when he presented his work to the class because he felt the success of completing a task using the tools to help him.  His parents even bought him a pair to use at home for homework time.  Now the boy requests the headsets all the time.

Another boy had difficulty on field trips.  One the first field trip he completely panicked while waiting for the bus.  I looked away for one second and then in a heartbeat I saw him running through the parking lot back to the school.  The teachers told me this happened every time field trips last year. I recognized the signs of sensory overload and on the next field trip I had him wear the noise cancelling headsets.  They were so effective for him that he wanted to wear them the entire field trip, which we let him do.  He also wore them during the holiday play performance and he did a fantastic job on the stage.  I do explain the reasons behind using the headsets to parents and make sure that they are on board, but so far I’ve yet to encounter a parent who doesn’t want their child using a tool that is helping them to learn and be successful.

I also use fidget tools for the children who need something in their hands.  We use things like squishy balls, wikki sticks (small, pliable tools that look like waxy pipe cleaners), and pencil toppers for the kiddos who need to chew.  I also have a calm corner in my class and tools for helping kids find their calm when they become emotional overloaded and shut down.  I’ve talked to kids about “fight or flight” so they recognize when their brains are at that point.  One child in my class who is on the autism spectrum was able to articulate his intense fear of getting on the stage for the holiday show, so rather than putting him in a position where he would most likely run, we put him behind the scenes as our light and sound man.  He was proud to be part of the play in a way that worked for him. 

We have several kids who have a strong need to chew like the boy in the first example.  One child uses a pencil topper and we also use various fidget tools (wikki sticks) to help them focus and listen during lessons. 

We also have calming tools like squishy balls for when a kid gets emotionally overloaded and shuts down.  This doesn’t happen often but the tools are there for when they do.  We also practice breathing techniques as a whole class every day using the Go Noodle website (Google it- it's free!).

Movement

My students need lots of opportunities for movement.  I design my lessons so that the children rarely stay in one place for longer than 30 minutes.  We build in brain breaks though the day (love that Go Noodle!) but if a child needs more movement than this (which a couple of ours do), we let them take it.  The difference is that we teach the child to recognize that this is a tool to help them learn rather than avoiding their work.  Rather than penalizing kids by making them push themselves to a breaking point, we teach kids to recognize when their bodies are getting restless and then we teach them to use a strategy to address it.  

Teaching Self-Advocacy

The bottom line is that each child has specific needs, and I work hard to teach the child how to use tools to help meet those needs.  I do my best to set my classroom up to help each child experience success.  I expect my students to work hard and I hold them accountable to their learning.  However, I also design the learning environment to help provide the tools for success.

It’s not hard to implement these strategies, but it takes a change in the adult’s mindset about student behavior.  It takes believing that a child is doing the best he or she can in any given situation.  It takes a desire to understand the root cause of behavior and rather than doling out blanket consequences.  It takes recognizing that a child is having a hard time, not trying to give the big people a hard time.

It also takes stepping outside a grown up’s comfort zone and recognizing that not every child learns the way that we do.  It also takes a touch of humility as we give up some authority and control so that our children’s voices can be heard.

My advice to parents is to schedule tours prior to enrolling your child in a school.  Look for these elements in the classroom or ask if the school is willing to allow these tools to be put in place.  Ask what sorts of training and professional development have been made available to the teachers in the areas of differentiated instruction and specifically understanding sensory needs.  And finally, keep the dialogue going with your child's teacher.  It's easy to get frustrated when things aren't going well but those parents who stay involved and offer ideas and possible solutions are more likely to get results.  Be assertive but not aggressive.  Advocate for your child but teach your child to be an advocate as well.  I love partnering with involved parents who show a deep interest in their child's learning.  We usually get a lot accomplished in a short amount of time by working together.

My wish is that each child would find a learning environment that meets his or her unique needs.   Honestly, own son has been my best teacher.  I’ve learned over the years through trial and error what works for him and which tools help him to be successful.  By using these tools with the students in my classroom, everyone succeeds.  

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!

An InLinkz Link-up

The Road To Acceptance

My boy having fun trick-or-treating in his own way on Halloween.      

            Recently my family and I participated in a local walk to support our friends who have a boy with Down Syndrome.  We went to breakfast before the walk at a restaurant where we go pretty much every Sunday.  Our whole family wore matching shirts that had the child’s picture on the front with the phrase “J- Rocks”.  At first I couldn’t figure out why everyone was looking at me, but then I realized what I was wearing.  It made me understand how it must feel to be stared at every day, simply for having a physical difference.  My son’s disability isn’t as immediately obvious as our friend “J-”, but Ben’s hand flaps, his noise canceling headsets, and his aversion to eye contact show the telltale signs of his autism and sensory processing differences.  Over the years I’ve become immune to the looks and the glances from strangers, some of them curious and others a bit more judgmental.  It’s been a long time sense Ben has had a public meltdown, so it’s been awhile since I really stopped to think about how society views disability and how much my own views on the subject have changed.

My road to accepting Ben’s disability (and disability in general) hasn’t always been easy.  Ben was diagnosed with Autism Spectrum Disorder and Sensory Processing Disorder almost four years ago.  It has taken nearly all of that time for me to feel at ease talking about my child’s learning differences with others and to truly see them as just that- differences.  I no longer feel the sting in the back of my throat when I say the word autism.  It has taken years of research and study for me to come to the conclusion that, while my child’s disability brings very real challenges, it also provides him with very real strengths that come with having a differently wired mind.  

I have written on the topic of acceptance before.  You can read about my feelings on the topic here and here.  My definition of acceptance has evolved over the years as I have learned and grown.  To me, acceptance doesn’t mean that we have to like the hard parts of the disability.  It doesn’t mean that we have to stop trying to make life better for our child.  However, we must remember that we are trying to make life better- for our child.  This is very different than trying to make life easier for us, or life more socially comfortable for us.  To me, acceptance means that we love our child without wanting to try to change him simply for the sake of making him more palatable to society. 

            The line between denial and acceptance can be blurry.   Over the years, I have met many parents who are living in the stage of denial.  They want to pretend that nothing is different about their child because they view normalcy as the goal.   The view their child through the lens of the hopes and dreams that they have held since their child has born- the vision of the child they expected to have rather than the child in front of them.  They have been influenced by society’s insidious message that those with disabilities are objects to be pitied, or individuals who have a lower self-worth than others.  While they may acknowledge their child’s disability, they see their child as a project to be fixed.  When their child does something that is outside the realm of “normal”, they feel embarrassment or shame and actively try to suppress these things.  I don't judge those who are in the denial stage.  I was there once too.

            It may appear to the casual observer that those who accept their child’s differences no longer care about their child’s needs, but this simply isn’t true.  Once you reach acceptance, you are aware that your child is different, but these differences no longer matter to you in the way that they once did.  You no longer seek to change your child with the intent of making them seem “less different”.  This doesn’t mean that you don’t help your child overcome the limiting parts of his or her disability.  It’s just that normalcy is no longer the goal.   You want your child to live a happy and fulfilled life, but you realize that the very definition of happiness and fulfillment can look very different than you once imagined. 

When you reach this stage of acceptance, you realize that your entire view of success, happiness, and possibility have completely shifted from what you once knew and understood.  You now see a much more expansive realm of possibility.  And then one day you wake up and realize that it is you who has changed as much (if not more) than your child.   That’s the moment when you know, that no matter how hard things get, it really and truly will be okay in the end.  

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!

An InLinkz Link-up

Staying in the Sensory Comfort Zone

Ben is cuddling on his bed with Jo-Jo the stuffed monkey.  He is sporting his new wolf hat, under his new fuzzy blanket and with his fuzzy pillow behind him. 

            We all have sensory comforts in life, whether it’s that steaming cup of coffee that gets us going in the morning or the heavy down comforter that helps us to fall asleep at night.  My personal favorite is cuddling in my jammies under a blanket with a good book, especially when soft rain is falling outside.  Most of us adults have discovered our sensory “comfort zones”, and we make adaptations all the time, often subconsciously, to keep our bodies calm and regulated.  We probably learned to do this by ourselves.  Our sensory kiddos often do not.

           

            My son is learning to understand and even appreciate his unique sensory self, but has taken time and lots of conversations to get us to the place where he is at today.  He knows what makes his body and brain happy, and he will tell you when his body feels good or when it feels “wacky”.  My husband and I believe it is our job as parents to help teach him tools for self-regulation (and we rely a LOT on the sensory experts around us to help with this), but at this stage of the game we are more often than not the protectors of his sensory comfort zone.  We grew into this role over time.  We had to learn how to stand up for our child’s needs in a respectful way.  We had to learn to say no, even to loved ones.  And, most of all, we had to learn to take our cues from our child.  We respect his needs, even if causes others around him to be disappointed or momentarily socially uncomfortable.

            When Ben was a younger child, my husband and I would keep Ben in uncomfortable situations just to please others.  Looking back on it now, I realize that I would see the signs that Ben was becoming overloaded, but I would keep him in the situation anyway, either because I didn’t want to disappoint someone or make someone else feel awkward.  However, more often than not, this would end up backfiring because Ben would become overloaded and cause an even bigger social scene that could have been avoided altogether if I would have taken my cues from him to begin with.  It wasn’t until later that I would learn to stop worrying about what those around me were thinking and focus instead on what my child needed most in that moment. 

 On one infamous trip to Sea World with a group of friends, I forced Ben to go into a dark theater to watch a show that I knew would be too loud and scary to him, simply because the rest of the group really wanted to go.  When the underwater sea monster appeared on his stage, his screams of pure fright and terror finally prompted me to whisk him out of the theater, but the damage had already been done.  He would not enter a darkened space for months after.  It was on that day that I vowed never to put another person’s personal enjoyment above my son's sensory needs.  Now when we travel places with friends and family, if there is a ride or situation that is too overwhelming for Ben, one of us will stay back with him and the others will go.  I no longer force him- he knows his limits.  I always offer and give him the choice, and it makes for a much better experience for everyone.  We are fortunate to have a supportive group of friends and family who know what works for Ben and respect it.  

            Ben makes no secret about his sensory comforts.  He loves all things soft and fuzzy.  Lately he has been into collecting stuffed animals (the larger, the better!) and his bed has become overrun with them.  This weekend on a trip to Target, I couldn’t resist letting him have a large blanket comforter with gray faux animal fur and matching pillow.  My husband hoisted Ben into the shopping cart, pillow behind his head and blanket over his body.  “Ah, this feels nice!” he pronounced.  “This feels cozy!  My body and brain are happy.” 

            Our home is Ben’s haven, and he’s more than happy to color, draw, write, or play games all day.  Ben also likes to get out and explore, and as long as we follow a sensory-friendly plan, he has a great time.  Whenever we go somewhere loud, such as a play, we bring his noise cancelling headsets along, and he is able to enjoy the show. Ben loves the theater and can’t wait until his birthday when he gets to see the musical Wicked for the first time. 

We avoid overly crowded places, which means we pay attention to where and when we go on our outings.  When we take Ben on weekend adventures, we’ve learned to go early and leave early.  In fact, we try to get there right when the place is opening.  In recent years we’ve learned to avoid crowded theme parks altogether because they are too loud…too over-stimulating…too much.  Circling a parking lot to look for a parking spot is pure torture to Ben.   Ben doesn’t enjoy riding most rides anyway.  In the past, we’d go to places like Busch Gardens only to have him spend the whole time in the giant sand box.  These days we make a trip to the science museum instead, and he is happy as can be.  When we visit Orlando, we don’t visit Disney, even though it’s less than two hours away.  We’ll go to the Crayola Experience instead.  It’s smaller, less crowded, and has lots of projects for him to do.  What’s not to love?  We’ve learned that three hours are about the maximum that Ben can handle at these parks, and so we go and then make our exit.  Typically we are leaving the park just as the crowds are arriving for the day.  We’ve also learned that Ben is only good for one adventure per day, and he needs a lot of down time after an outing.  If we follow these guidelines, Ben generally has a great time and we all leave happy.

            Most of the time, Ben is a calm and regulated little boy.  We have family and friends who have never seen our child pushed past his sensory comfort zone, and this can lead to confused and hurt feelings, such as when we leave a birthday party early or politely decline an invitation to a certain theme park.  However, we hold firm because we know his limits.  We are teaching Ben to advocate for his needs in a kind and respectful way, even if he can’t always articulate it for himself yet.  As a wise person once said, “We do not want to be his voice, but we will be his microphone.”  Because, after all, he is a human being, not an object made to please others.  It’s tricky to help him learn to live inside the sensory comfort zone while still teaching him to roll with life’s unpredictable moments.  We don’t always get it right, and as I look back on my early parenting self, there are plenty of cringe-worthy moments.   And yet, we keep trying because he is worth it. 

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!

An InLinkz Link-up