The school year is winding down, and we are in what we know to be really difficult for a lot of our kids: transition.

Some kids are acting the same as they always do. Their behavior hasn’t shifted, and their mannerisms are the same.

Others are silly. Giggly, laughing, hyper, falling off their chairs, bodies flopping all over the place.

Some are weepy. Expressing fear, anxiety, worry, dread.

And others are angry. Seemingly rude, bitter, mean.

Years ago I worked with a 13-year-old at a summer program. All summer long, I was the one she would run away from, the one to whom she’d roll her eyes when I came after her, the one she’d use sarcasm and and an annoyed tone of voice with all day every day. Still I persisted. I adored her. On the very last day of camp, the group was on our way back from our last swimming block. The path split, the group headed in the direction we usually went, although both paths ended up where we needed to be, and she looked at me and said, “Can we walk through the woods path, just the two of us?” The entire walk she said nothing, but wrapped her arm around mine and held on tight. She never shed a tear, she never said “I’ll miss you”. But in her own way, she conveyed exactly that.

This year, one of my little cherubs constantly uses a rude tone of voice with me. I’ll give a direction to the group, and, seemingly exasperated, she’ll interrupt with some sort of off-topic comment, random demand, or expression of displeasure for what I’m saying. (I love this kid. So much. No sarcasm at all.) The thing is – I KNOW she adores me. Looking past the behavior I see the other things: how her behavior escalates when she knows she won’t see me if I have a meeting. How she acts even ruder if I’m paying attention to another kid in the group. How she acted like a bear and then told me she wished she could’ve been on my Field Day team. How she whined all class and then said, “I don’t only want to see you two more times this year!”

Yet again, I have to come back to behavior = communication (I know, you’re so sick of me saying that over and over again).

And this point is so necessary to remember as transitions come up, because amidst the silly, rude, mean, immature behavior, the off-topic comments, the whining, the meltdowns, we have to remember that for them, their world is turning upside down. And not necessarily in a bad way – it’s just shifting. I understand it particularly well, given that at age 28, I still don’t handle transitions well. I’m fine once the event has occurred. But the anticipation of anything, even a positive event, is hard.

Some of our kids are going to a different school next year. Some are entering middle school, some high school. Some staying in the same school and devastated that their good friends will be moving on, or moving up. Some are already worried about which teachers they’ll have next year. Some are excited for summer, and some dread it. Some are busy and kept stimulated, and some sit on their ipads and are bored.

Transitions are hard, especially when you’re particularly sensitive, or autistic, or have executive functioning challenges, or a learning disability, and you’ve spent the entire year acclimating to a routine and structure and now it’s being taken away from you.

What helps: talking about it, constantly. Previewing, constantly. Being transparent, constantly. Throughout the year, I reference the calendar in my room at least weekly. I point out what’s going on that week, if I won’t see a group for a holiday or if I have a meeting, if there are any special events, if it’s someone’s birthday.

This month, we talk about the calendar daily. Every single day we look at it, discuss the events that day, talk about how many days are left in school, how many more times they’ll see me, and their other teachers. Every single day we talk about it, because it helps. Remember, we are talking about kids who thrive on routine, thrive on repetition, thrive on knowing exactly what’s happening when. The more it’s discussed, the more they can accept it and process it.

We talk about how we feel about summer coming. For some, we do it simply: we show how we feel with a thumbs up, down, or medium. For others, we talk about the things we’ll miss about school and the things we won’t. Still, others, we talk about the feelings around moving to high school, saying goodbye to a friend. But we talk about it so we can meet it head on.

Change is hard. For all of us. To different degrees. It’ll manifest itself in a variety of different ways.

Just hold onto that knowledge, as we transition into summer.