Talking to Children about Talking

A couple weeks ago, I was with my 12-year-old daughter and 15-year-old son at a public park pool in our community.  It's generally a great place to connect with friends from school.  But not all children are friendly -- or at least they say some pretty unfriendly things.  One group of 14ish-year-olds made my son particularly upset when he tried to interact with them.  Seeing his anguish, a couple of them initiated personal apologies to him on their own.  And while that social bravery was impressive, it was like this illustration:

So while I'm thinking about it, I'd love to share with you parents and summer day camp directors and staff members a top five talking points list about encouraging healthy social interaction in the community -- especially because around 15% of the children they encounter will have some neurological difference, or invisible disability.

1. We are all different.  Some differences you can see, like hair color or wearing glasses.  Others you can't, because they're based in the brain.  Brain-based differences cause some children to perceive parts of their world ways most other people do not.  There's nothing "wrong" with their perception; it's just different.
2. While we are all different, we all want to belong.  Some kids are better at expressing their desire to be friends than others.  No matter what, no child wants to be told to "Go away" or hear "Leave me alone" when they're trying to make a social connection.  If you're already hanging out with a group of friends, consider inviting the child who approached you to hang out, too -- even if it's just for a few minutes.
3. If the child who approached you to play says something that makes you uncomfortable, tell him or her in a matter-of-fact but helpful way.  Better yet, give them a more appropriate thing to say or question to ask.  Often times, children with autism spectrum disorder (ASD) have fewer social tools in their tool box, or may use them in a clumsy way.  They're trying; be respectful of their attempts, but also aware of your own boundaries.
4. Really consider how you would want to be treated if you were brought into a place where you didn't know anybody.  Some of your friends might think it's funny to mess with someone with a brain-based difference.  They might not think right away about how that child is understanding others' intentions. This might just seem playful to you or to them, but it's really called disability harassment; and it's against the law.
5. If you see or hear someone being treated in an unkind way, please bring it to the attention of a nearby responsible adult.  If that's at the pool, it's a lifeguard.  If it's at camp, it's a counselor.  Everyone has a right to feel safe and respected in our community.  At all times.  No matter what.

I am sure we all want our children to be good citizens.  I know that parents aren't always aware of how their children behave in a loosely-supervised social groups.  Remember that social emotional instruction is continuous and just as important this summer as finding a good book to read.

Teachers Who Make a Difference

It's the last week of school in our district, and my own children have been through tremendous transitions this year.  In the hands of less capable educators, this week might have felt very different for us.  I have had school years as a mom -- and I'm sure you teachers and students have had them, too -- when you're just grateful the year is OVER.  Scrounging for a scrap of fabulous with which to redeem the missed opportunities can be emotionally exhausting.  But this year, I could fill a book with victorious vignettes.

I don't know how I didn't hear of it sooner, but the responsive poem by author-advocate Taylor Mali regarding "What Teachers Make" struck a chord deep in my heart when one of my daughter's classmates shared excerpts from it at their year-end celebration this week.  And as I wrote out individually the twenty (yes, when you have two kids with special needs, the numbers add up!) notes for teacher gifts, there was one in particular that got the waterworks going.

To understand why, I have to back up the timeline.  My son started high school this year, and at the new parent orientation the preceding winter, I was expecting to understand how my boy would fit into the school culture.  His autism and mental health challenges can be obstacles to social acceptance, but when the social emotional conditions are favorable in a school community, they generally are not immoveable barriers.  After that orientation, I left feeling as if students like my boy were either an afterthought or no consideration at all in the school culture.  There was plenty talk of AP courses and athletics, but very little about different abilities.  There was talk about embracing racial and socio-economic diversity, but none about neuro-diversity.

Contacts with key people at the school and district were promising, but everyone's busy.  And this isn't their mission.  But it is mine, as a parent-professional.  So I got busy.

This wasn't a year of jumping into the social emotional current with both feet.  It was a year of studying the river and dipping in toes.  It was a year of learning the landscape and befriending the natives.  And we found a tribe for my boy.

So the thank you note that I wrote to this teacher, as the advisor of my son's newfound tribe, was the one that made me cry.  Because, you see -- he helped create a community of acceptance for this one kid.  This one student who I thought might be forgotten.  Left out.  Not included.  But he was accepted and included.  And it makes a difference.  Forever.

I know the good administrators and educators like this one never stop thinking and planning.  So for all of you difference-makers out there, really consider this summer how you can be more inclusive of students with neurologically diverse experiences.  Because there are a lot more moms like me who love nothing more than a good end-of-the-school-year cry.

Autism: an explanation -- not an excuse

Even though Denise Schamens and I have been providing Peer Sensitivity Workshops through Good Friend for nearly six years now, we are still often met with resistance about explaining a classmate with autism spectrum disorder's (ASD) differences.  And we respect that.  But admittedly, it makes us a little sad, because we've seen the benefit talking about autism early conveys!  Yet when we learn the resistance is due to a misunderstanding about the intention of our services, we like to clear the air.

For example, a school's administration was encouraging parents of students with ASD to sign a consent form allowing us to contact them to discuss their child.  A spontaneous discussion began among the parents of students identified through their IEPs has having autism who had received the consent form.  While some families were all for the disclosure for the sake of creating positive interactions between students, one family in particular was discouraging others, suggesting that we would offer "excuses" for the "bad behavior" of students with autism.

Indeed, most children (and adults, for that matter) have some undesirable or bad behaviors, whether or not they have ASD.  And as caregivers, we have to strive to redirect or otherwise extinguish those behaviors, because we recognize them as chosen.  Yet in learners with autism, many of those "behaviors" are not chosen at all.  They are a product or a side effect of the differently-wired brain.  In other words, when similar undesirable behaviors are seen in a neuro-typical 5-year-old and an 8-year-old with ASD, we have to distinguish between the meaning of the behaviors and act (or better yet, preempt) accordingly.

When students with ASD have a functional behavior assessment, we caregivers have a head start in our ability to understand and explain unexpected behaviors.  Because autism is an "invisible disability", a neuro-typical student is not likely to associate a peer's unexpected behavior with a differently-wired brain.  But once we provide an explanation about autism and the diverse way that student experiences the world around him, the other students will no longer be mystified about the behavior.

It's not to say that an unsafe behavior like hitting would become acceptable.  Certainly, regardless of the communicative intent of the behavior, unsafe actions have no place in a classroom.  But explaining to the other students who've found better ways to cope with their frustrations or anxieties that there's a whole team of support people (educators, therapists, etc.) working together to teach the student with autism other coping strategies goes a long way.  Typically-developing peers could go from being hesitant or even fearful to being cooperative and helpful.

What have you learned about autism through the behavior of your person with ASD?