I have an affinity for kids. All kinds of kids, big ones, little ones, sweet ones, mean ones, sullen ones, hyper ones, and quirky ones. These are actually my favorite. Though I wouldn’t be hard pressed to say that all kids are quirky, there are some that are more quirky than others, and these intrigue me. Why do they do that? What are they thinking that makes that behavior or response make sense? So in August of 2012 when I received a cohort of ten 9th graders on the autism spectrum at a public high school into my classroom well, actually, I was elated. What a delightful challenge they posed to me and I instantly loved them all. I was excited and felt a deep sense of responsibility to take care of them, teach them, help them get along and be successful academically and personally. I am a problem solver. My instincts are always to determine why something is happening and look for the simplest and most sensible solution.
And so that year I began listening and learning from them.
My background is in psychology and special education. When I got my teaching certificate, the first job I had was at a charter style school for students who could not be handled adequately in the public school. These children had serious psychiatric issues. I was in my twenties and these kids were up to 19 years old. I had two assistants for a classroom of 9 students. I needed them. And some days I wished I had another one.
While trying to conduct something that looked like home-schooling with each student on an individual track, I became focused on behaviors, mostly bad behaviors. I had to. One female was so abused and neglected she didn’t speak. Another was also abused and neglected and developed multiple personalities. Yep, I didn’t believe it myself. But I saw, with my own eyes, as she’d get off the bus dressed in a little girl’s sailor costume, or like a slut, or disheveled like she hadn’t slept or eaten in days. She could be bright, cheery and compliant, and the next day pacing and cursing anyone who came near her. I had a young man who had brain damage, and left side injury from being swung by his heels into a wall as a baby by his birth parent. His left arm hung at his side in reverse, the palm facing out. He was as fearful as an alley cat and slunk around the room well into November. I had a pool stick held over my head, threatening to swing if I came closer. Thankfully he ran instead. But then we had to go get him safely. I learned to accept these children as they were, and yes, I loved them.
Fast forward 30 years and I found myself faced with a cohort of ten 9th graders, all with Autism. At that time the school district wasn’t well prepared for the divergence of students on the spectrum. There were classes for those with intellectual challenges and physical challenges but there was no standard practice or training in place to accommodate students able to access the college bound curriculum but not function well behaviorally or socially. So in elementary school they started to group them in schools where teachers seemed more able to deal with them. The Autism Inclusion Program was born and these students followed each other all the way into high school together. The middle school program teachers were trailblazers and worked hard to educate themselves on best practices. Among other things, they started a lunch program where students could sit in the cafeteria with a teacher, and other students.This meant they didn’t sit alone and teachers could facilitate communication between them. Everyone was happy with this arrangement. The familiarity of a trusted adult nearby was critical to their feeling calm and thereby ability to be successful in school.
High school teachers are mostly focused on their subject matter so, as a general inclusion teacher of Exceptional Children, (the designation for students with special needs and receiving services through ADA) I was the likely candidate for this incoming cohort.
I am the Behavior Specialist Extraordinaire! With a background in psychology and life experience that included severely mentally “disturbed” (that was the term back then) students. I had a lot of tools in my toolbox.
And I loved them. Each one I met, swelled my heart with compassion. I considered each one as an individual challenge to solve the puzzle of their emotional safety, and academic and social success. It was my job to make school tolerable for them, and make them tolerable for school (teachers). For some reason they trusted me and I loved them.
I was the Pied Piper of Troubled Students. If there was a student in the building (any school I was assigned,) they found me. Even students without diagnoses! Even not enrolled in my classrooms. They found me!
I started a Lunch program at the high school. I sat at a table for all three 25 minute lunch periods. This was a large school and they needed to split lunch into 3 periods in order to accommodate all students. I sat at this table and my students could sit with me if they wanted. They didn’t have to, and some didn’t. But some did. This was a golden opportunity to coach them in reciprocal conversation. You say something, then you wait for another person to respond. Then you listen to them while they speak. For this population this can be incredibly hard. We don’t think about it much, but listening to another person requires a whole set of skills that autists frequently don’t have. Wait time, actual listening and understanding the content, staying on the topic, understanding if any of the communications hold emotions, such as enthusiasm, frustration, or distrust.
Soon as I sat each day the “trouble makers” found me. Our little group of 3 became 4 or 5. They were all boys, each of whom had been suspended for various infractions, smoking on campus, skipping class, or talking back to a teacher. They were tough kids from tough neighborhoods and mostly ignored by “reg ed” teachers. (Regular education)
This injected a real world diverse experience for my students on the Spectrum. Not only have my students not paid much attention to classmates, but to have a racially and socio-economically diverse person in their proximity gave them much needed exposure, and gave me a great opportunity to facilitate acceptance in both directions. It was tricky to be sure, but once again my compassion grew and I felt the call to model respect and acceptance to all.
I was that teacher. I was the one who would run interference between the student and teacher, often making adversaries along the way. I would advocate for them not to have to “show their work” for example because, for a student on the Spectrum, some of them just know the answers and can’t tell you how they got there. The energy it took for them to fulfill the teachers’ need to see work was just too much. Many of them just took the fail. They’d rather fail the test than use precious energy for the stupid purpose of pleasing a teacher. Same with homework. Why do homework when I know the math and can pass the test. This was not one kid, but several. It’s amazingly common.
I frequently was the odd woman out in an IEP meeting (Individualized Education Plan) where a team consisting of a content teacher, myself, the parents, the student and an administrator get together to make an educational plan for the year. This often included behavioral goals for students on the spectrum. Ex: Student will make eye contact 50% of the time as assessed by the teacher when speaking in class or individually. Student will refrain from touching other students personal items or other items that do not belong to them 100% of the time. Student will ask teacher to move seat, or leave the room for a brief time out, 10 minutes or less, when overwhelmed, not to exceed 5 times per week.
This last one was controversial. From an administrative and teacher standpoint, How can I allow a student to leave the room when all the others must stay seated and pay attention? They will miss valuable lecture or examples. My focus was on their emotional safety. I know that a person cannot concentrate, focus, learn or even function if their senses are screaming Danger, or Loud, or too Bright, too Hot or too Cold. Administrators and teachers didn’t typically care. Suck it up, like all other students, and learn to cope.
I held my ground. I got reprimanded. In one instance I was called insubordinate through clenched teeth.
More and more I was worn down by the system and I began to worry, What will happen to them when they graduate? I could see from experience that services drop off dramatically after high school. Where are the supportive adults like me?
From this feeling I created Autism Solutions Group where we service high school graduates and older who need that extra help. We work with those with average intellectual ability and above. I have had the great pleasure to work with some truly brilliant clients and this has only fueled my passion. I can’t keep myself from doing this!
I look forward to hearing from you. If you or someone you know is on the spectrum or might be and struggle with the day to day experiences of life, contact me for a free 30 minute consultation.
Creating A Spectrum of Possibilities
Holly