Tag

social thinking

“What do I tell him?”

The mom of a 7-year-old kiddo who I just started seeing in a social pragmatics group, approached me before group this week.

Glancing at her son, she whispered, “He’s asking why he has to come to this group. What do I tell him?”

Such a common question. The parents I work with want what’s best for their children. Especially when they are in the early stages of an autism-related diagnosis, they are anxious and worried. They don’t want to say the wrong thing or do the wrong thing. They want to protect their child, yet empower him.

Ultimately, it comes down to the fact that while yes, I am a professional, nobody knows their child better than a parent does. So it’s a parents’ decision as to what to say or do. However, I do have my opinions. And I shared them with this mom.

I told her that we will get to talking about it in group, in a few weeks, once we’ve established some sort of cohesion and a sense of safety between the boys and me. I told her that when we do talk about it, we talk about how everyone has things that are easier for them and harder for them. I told her how I always, right off the bat, use the example that I’m really good at reading, but drawing is hard for me. Inevitably, one of the kids always replies, “I’m so good at drawing!!!” and I use that to say, “That’s great! It’s harder for me, but that’s okay.” And that opens up a discussion of everyone sharing what is easy and hard for them.

I explained that our kids are smart. And that even if they don’t know, diagnostically, that they have social-cognitive difficulties, they know it on an intuitive level. They’re aware that it doesn’t come as easy to them. They’ve felt frustration and sadness and confusion. And I firmly believe that it’s validating to know that others recognize it, that it’s okay, and that there are groups and ways to help make it easier.

Mom said, “Yes! That’s what I told him! I said that he’s so smart at things like math and science, but the social stuff can be harder for him sometimes. Is that okay? I don’t want him to feel like I’m pointing out his faults.”

I told her that in my opinion, yes, it’s absolutely okay. There’s a difference between accusing, and pointing out failures, and factually acknowledging strengths and weaknesses. I told her that when we keep it a secret, when we lie to our kids or tell them fakely, with a big smile on our face, “There is nothing wrong with you!! You have so many friends, all the kids like you,” that they know that something is off. It’s validating to hear, “I know this is hard for you. It’s hard for other kids too. It’s not a big deal.”

I always tell my kids and students that even for people who “social stuff” comes easier for, have difficulty here and there. I explain that what’s tricky for me is to sit back and let others talk sometimes.  And that’s okay. And I then ask, “Does that ever happen to anyone else?” And I validate anything they say. And if they say, “Sometimes I get frustrated with friends” or “Sometimes I don’t know what to say in a conversation,” I let them know that I get it. That I feel that way too, sometimes, and that probably other kids do, too.

It’s a big deal in that we want to help our kids get to a level of succeeding, we don’t want to ignore their challenges. But it’s not a big deal in that it’s not a huge secret. Everyone has strengths and weaknesses. Validate them for our kids. Let them know that we get it, that it’s not a “bad” thing. That we all struggle sometimes. That we’re going to help them as best we can.

Teasing + Autism

I’m actually not talking about “typical” kids bullying kids on the spectrum. No, I’m thinking about what happens when a bunch of little kids get together, specifically my group of 6-8-year olds, all on the “higher-functioning” end of the spectrum (which is, only to illustrate that they are very verbal, independent, etc.), and a behavior I see in them often is teasing each other. Now, by teasing I mean, “Boo, Peter!!” or “We don’t like Lily!!” but severe or not, they interpret it as the other child being mean to them, and they don’t like it. So, they are mean back. And the cycle continues.

I see two ways that I can address this, and help their caretakers address this. One way is to address the reaction — strengthen their ability to ignore, to self-advocate, to speak up and say they don’t like it, etc. That I’ve got down pat. But it’s the other way, dealing with the teasing behavior, that I’m thinking about tonight. I just sat down and tried to intuitively put myself into their minds and imagine what it’s like for them and what leads them to tease. What immediately came up for me was that they want to connect, they want to bond with another child, and it’s very easy to do that by teasing a third child. Conversations are tricky, pretend play is tricky, initiating games or activities is tricky, but saying “Boo, Peter!” helps them bond with the other teaser. If I’m right (and I’m not saying I AM right, or that this is a universal application, or anything like that), then maybe the way to handle this is to really solidify ways to connect with a peer — brainstorm things to say (e.g., “Wanna play a game?”) or laugh about (e.g., knock-knock jokes). Because if this IS the case, then the behavior is certainly serving a function. Eliminating the behavior, by just saying that teasing is not okay, doesn’t give them any replacement.

Thoughts? Ideas? Experiences? Please!

Standards of behavior

I was driving to the gym this morning, thinking, with a smile on my face, about last night. Last night, my boyfriend and I walked hand in hand to get some frozen yogurt. Along the way, I was filled with joy and decided to skip. He laughed at me, kindly. He has long-since embraced my quirkiness, and I can be my true self around him. And he said, in a lovingly, jokingly way, “Do you think people can’t see you?” And I replied, “Of course they can see me, but I don’t care.” And I went on, to say, “They probably laugh and then think how envious they are of me to be so comfortable with myself.”

And that was it. And it wasn’t until this morning that I realized. How fine of a line it is. When we work with our autistic, Aspie, NVLD kids. How often do we tell them, “That’s unexpected, that will make someone have a weird thought about you,” when if it was a neurotypical individual doing it, we would view the behavior as, “Wow, they have enviable self-esteem to be so comfortable with themselves that they do x, y, or z without worrying about it.”

I last wrote about not extinguishing “weird” behaviors unless they are detrimental to one’s becoming their true self. But it goes deeper than that. Our standards, our viewpoints, the lens in which we view behavior is so different, and it hit me big today.

Philosophy

THIS. Jess so eloquently put it into words (as she always does), and I want you to read it. Please.

But, in case you don’t click over, in case you don’t read it and fall in love with Jess’s writing and her family and her incredible daughter, I will happily ramble away and tell you about it.

She talks about how, when setting a goal for her daughter, she asks the question, “Is this a goal that I would set in order to help my daughter to become that fullest version of herself or is it one that I would set simply because it will help her meet societal expectation?” And THAT is what I guide my treatment on. Many of my colleagues will disagree. And those colleagues are the ones who may desperately aim to extinguish flapping, squealing, jumping, other stimming behaviors. The colleague who, during class change time, yells at my student who did a jump and a squeal. (Because, he has learned, and he knows, that class change time is actually a GREAT time to do that, and he had been holding it in all throughout class) But those behaviors? They’re the ones I ignore. That don’t bother me. That, if anything, I LOVE, because they are real and true and they are providing an outlet, for thoughts and emotions and feelings and everything that otherwise would remain trapped and distracting inside. And if it is something that is truly getting in the way of a child’s becoming, then that’s one thing. I have used Social Thinking and behavior plans and visuals and countless tools. Because there are certain behaviors that are harmful to themselves or to others, or distracting in an intolerable way.

But if it’s just a “quirk?” If, at its core, it’s simply a difference from how the majority of us are? No, I have bigger things to worry about.

And, I just want to add — we ALL have quirks. And nobody put us on behavior plans for them. Sometimes I make funny noises, say weird things, I’m plenty awkward. And I’m a fantastic speech/language pathologist, I’m well-respected, and my kids like me for being who I am. Said a 6th grade boy, with Nonverbal Language Disability: “Thank you for being weird sometimes, it makes me feel better about being weird myself.”

Everyone is weird. Everyone has quirks. Sometimes that weirdness becomes dangerous or distracting. But sometimes it’s just….fun. And then, it’s okay.

Lack of understanding or something else?

I love Social Thinking. I’m all for it. I’ve been trained in it for years, both of my jobs involve it on a daily basis, I’ve seen what it can do for kids with autism or various other diagnoses. That being said, I need to make one point clear, one that some people either overlook or don’t understand. And let me preface this by saying that I am not talking about kids with autism who are nonverbal, who have little functional communication, who are on the far end of the spectrum. I’m talking about the more middle-to-higher communicative kids. Okay.

We teach “Thinking with our eyes,” and “Keep your brain in the group” and all of the other wonderful catch phrases. And once they catch on, they work wonders. But sometimes they are not going to work. Sometimes, no matter how long you’ve worked on that skill, your autistic student is not going to “think with their eyes” and look at you while you’re in a conversation with him. Sometimes, no matter how many times you explain that it’s unexpected to blurt out a random thought, she is still going to blurt. It’s not (necessarily) because s/he doesn’t understand that skill.

Some of it has to do with processing. For that first student, it’s possible that his brain is overloaded. Maybe he has a language disorder as well and lags behind in receptive or expressive communication. Maybe, his brain is trying so desperately to listen to what you’re saying, understand it, remember it, and formulate the “expected” response that there is just no more availability for his brain to ALSO look at you, visually process what you look like, what your mouth movements look like, AND do all of those other skills. For the second student, maybe her working memory skills aren’t so solid. Maybe she doesn’t know (as one of my students was able to explain to me — changed the way I thought about this entirely) how to “keep thoughts from coming down to her mouth” and “keep them in her brain until later.” Maybe, as this student also explained to me, she hasn’t learned how to “save a thought in her mind” so that she can “remember it later.” Maybe her blurting isn’t her not caring about expected behaviors, but maybe it has to do with the fact that her brain sent that thought down to her mouth, and her mouth needs to say the five-word script from a commercial in order for her to move on. And maybe, as is in the case with my student, if you let it happen but get her right back on track, it’s actually more productive and beneficial. Or maybe that student’s brain is so disorganized, and there are so many scripts and facts and thoughts floating around, that if she doesn’t say that thought right away, she will forget it forever, and she desperately wants you to hear how important it is to her. So maybe the solution isn’t to berate the individual for being “unexpected” during class, but rather, say, “We can talk about that at the end of class, I’ll write it down so I remember for you,” and get right back to the lesson.

PLEASE don’t get me wrong. Social Thinking is incredible. But it’s not a full-proof solution for every moment of every day. Sometimes, we need to go with our intuition. To put ourselves in these kids’ shoes (which I realize is easier for some than others — I happen to believe that while I fall on the “typical” side of the continuum, I am close enough to the point where “autism” begins that I understand a lot about these kids intuitively) and think, “Is there a reason this isn’t working, other than because they can’t do it?” And maybe you’ll be surprised.