Making Pictures out of Words

W reading to J, back when they were babies

One of J’s biggest academic struggles is with reading comprehension. In the beginning he was a fabulous reader. He could sound out words and burn through the early reader books because he’s good at individual words. He loves to figure out how they work together and what the rules are for putting them together. He’s always been a kid who wants to know the rules. (As I’m typing this I’m wondering if we should be reading poetry with this boy to help him build those images and other sensory experiences with words…)

There was even  a time where he was obsessed with synonyms, antonyms, and homophones. Especially the homophones. He just thought it was the greatest thing in the world that two words could sound exactly the same but be spelled two different ways and mean two different things.

J loves individual words but has a hard time seeing how they work together as a whole to produce something abstract such as an emotion or motivation. This is typical for kids on the autism spectrum. They don’t understand why people do the things they do in real life–why someone would say something to someone and turn around and do completely the opposite thing?–there’s no logic in that at all. As a toddler (and sometimes even now if he doesn’t know the person very well) he had a hard time reading how someone felt based on the expression on their face. When you read a story you have to make all these connections without any visual cues–all the cues are hidden in the words with nuance and meaning.

Reading novels for school has become more challenging over the years. Usually J and I have a copy of the book at home and we take turns reading sections of the book aloud. At the end of the chapter, my strategy is to usually ask him, “Tell me one thing you remember about what we just read,” and he will pick out something that caught his attention and then I can steer the conversation to other things in the chapter–questions about characters, things they like/dislike, what the character wants (or what/who is challenging the character). Then I write down short notes on what we’ve talked about so we can go back and refresh our minds later as the story progresses or if there’s a test coming up. It looks something like this:

J just recently finished The Thief of Always by Clive Barker (a fantasy book with magic–good fun for a kid who looks at the world in a very literal way 😉 ) for class and had a test over the book. I was able to see a copy of the test beforehand so I could help prep J to study at home. This test was heavily based on character profiles: what each character said and did, often direct quotes from the text. At first it was really overwhelming to prep him for it. J could barely get through summarizing the plot with help. How was he going to get through a test that was more character driven than plot driven?

Two days before the test, I came up with the idea of character profile sheets. I realized that J had no real pictures in his head of what these characters looked like, so I googled images of the characters from the book and assigned important plot points or quotes from the novel so J could visually see them. Descriptions of hair color or other physical features were covered by the picture. When I had quotes for or about the character, I included them in their profile. It helped reinforce the physical description, motives, or important events for the character. It really helped differentiate the three cats for J. He knew what roles the cats had in the story but would get the three confused as one character when I quizzed him. The pictures helped straighten it out for him.

 

For some reason, Lulu turning into a fish was something that really stuck out in his brain so the quote was easy for him.

Here’s a good example of how the description of an old woman was better reinforced by a picture. As we read the book, I tried to explain the concept of spider web hair, and J just couldn’t understand what that meant. I think he thought her hair was spider webs. This was a nice bridge of the figurative and literal description.

The 3 cats. J LOVED the cats, but thought the cat was just one character. This helped clarify that for him.

I’m always trying to think of creative ways to help J understand what he’s reading better, and the visual character profiles really helped for him. There are things that I would do differently for next time though. Next time we’ll try doing the profiles as we read along and not two days before the test. I’ll have J help pick out the pictures he thinks best fit the descriptions in the book and the pictures in his head. I’ll also see if we can get modifications in the test for a book like this–This book had twelve characters he had to identify and pair up with quotes and half of them had magical powers which was really hard for J to navigate.

It can be an awful mess helping J out academically. I feel like I come up with good ideas after the fact and it’s when I see the mistakes I’ve made that I know what to do and not do for the next time. Sometimes I feel like I’m failing in my attempts and just making him more frustrated about himself instead. But this time, I’m really excited to add this idea to our reading strategies, even if it was a disaster at times along the way. One more way to look a things that might help for the next time.

Just thought I’d share what we are trying 🙂

As a side note, and follow up to the last post, J got 44/46 on his Latin test! I really feel like he’s starting to understand studying strategies a little better!

 

 

 

 

Learning How to Learn

 

It’s taken the second semester of grade 7 to feel like I’m finally understanding how to reinforce what J’s learning at school at home. I feel like we’re starting to get a good system going with J’s paras and teachers in how to modify assignments, tests, and practice assignments that will help J learn the best.

J’s strengths lie in memorization, and he does really well with flashcards (homemade ones or through Quizlet. Are you familiar with Quizlet? It’s a wonderful free little app that lets you practice through flashcards, matching, definitions, etc). He’s funny with the memorization though. You give him a map of Africa and he can fill out all 55 countries in 2 min or less, but you give him a human body and it’s a lot harder for him to label that “map.” One thing I’m learning with him is that all skills aren’t equal. If it’s a subject he’s interested in, then you’ve hit the memorization jackpot (think superhuman skills–I’m not exaggerating on this). If it’s something he’s not interested in, he can still memorize it, it takes more time and diligent practice. That’s one thing that we’ve been working with his teachers and paras. Trying to get notes and terms and concepts home ASAP so we can start working on them weeks before the test (not a few days before). I know it sounds like a no-brainer, but it’s a lot harder than it sounds. It takes a lot of coordination, and a lot of stuff being sent home and sent back to school. I’ve been really excited this last month, however. I feel like we’re getting into that back and forth groove.

J came home with some AWESOME practice sheets his para made for him to help him study the human body. BIG versions of the traditional 8 1/2 x 11 computer printouts and laminated so he can use a dry erase marker to do that repetitive practice (also to accommodate his handwriting issues!). He also has flash cards to practice the functions and definitions of certain things (mechanical digestion, chemical digestion, arteries, etc). His science teacher has modified the amount of content J has to know (he has to label 10/16 bones on the skeleton, 4/11 parts of the heart–right/left ventricle and right/left atrium, etc). Enough to give him an introduction of the human body and practice a way of learning and studying without overwhelming him.

Labeling the ventricles on the heart

Identifying bones

Practicing the definitions through handwriting and modified paper

J is also a nontraditional learner. His body language can fool you into thinking he’s not paying attention, tired, or checked out. This first video shows him practicing Latin numbers. With his head on the table, it looks like he’s checked out, but if you listen to him, you can tell he’s really concentrating (and trying not to look at the answers on the table). Don’t judge my Latin pronunciation–the only language I know besides English is French, and J has already corrected me a few times of my French-ish pronunciation of Latin terms. This is one of a million reasons why his paras are so important–they can undo any damage I do when I don’t teach him things exactly right.

J earns jellybeans for studying masses of words or definitions. Since he has to learn his colours in Latin, I make him tell me what the Latin colour is and the Latin number of jelly beans before he gets it. Whether we’re studying Latin or the heart. It’s good “not studying” studying.

Sometimes we use Quizlet, and sometimes I make a homemade version. Here’s J practicing his Latin colours through matching.

I also try to mix up the ways we practice things (like the jellybeans). Here’s J identifying body parts by just touching his body.

It’s taken a lot of coordination and a lot of organization (personally–I am not an organized person by nature). I try to get as much of my work and writing done before the kids come home so we can focus the rest of the night on studying. Sometimes I have to multitask and make dinner, but we make sure we do the daily practice DAILY. I admit there are some nights where I just don’t want to do it (and think his paras can do it during resource) but in order for J to really learn (and understand what he’s learning is important) we need to reinforce at home. Sometimes it’s a fight. Most times he’s willing to practice.

It’s not Pintrest worthy, but here are my binders for J’s practice sheets and studying. That way I don’t have piles of papers on our counters and I can keep copies of practice sheets and Ziplocs for flash cards and other study helps with each separate subject. This has made my life a million times easier.

The funny thing about this whole study experience, is that I’m learning all of this over again as I’m working with him. I don’t know exactly where my trachea or small intestine is, and I get along just fine. I always Google things when I need to. I have a basic idea of what an artery is, but I don’t remember the exact definition. I know that blood flows in and out of our heart in different directions, but I don’t remember how or where that happens until I start reading his textbook again. J’s teachers and I go back and forth a lot on what exactly will be helpful for J to learn and what won’t matter in the end. But the more I work with him I realize, that the content he learns now isn’t the only thing that matters. Most of us forget at least half of the content (or more) learned in middle school and high school by the time we graduate. It’s the practice and discipline and thinking skills that are the most important for J to learn, because those are the real life skills most of us develop in our public school experience. It’s those skills that take us into our post secondary education or job sites and it’s those skills we practice daily that get us the knowledge that’s most applicable for us.

So on the days I’m frustrated when J forgets where his gastrocnemius muscle is (ps, it’s not in your stomach like you’d think) when he absolutely knew where it was the day before I try not to get discouraged. Because in the end, learning to learn is a process. And that’s a whole lesson in itself.

Adaptations and Modifications

J and Steve working on Geography homework.

It’s been about a month since J’s IEP meeting and I’m really excited about some of the ideas the team came up with. I guess that’s what happens when you get over a dozen people in a room to discuss J.

The hard thing about J is that there is no academic setting he really fits into. J is what I call “middle autistic.” If you think of a line graph where “low functioning” is on one side and “high functioning” is on the other, I would put J smack dab in the middle. So where do you put an “in the middle of the spectrum kid” in the public school setting? He would be bored to tears and be a behavioral nightmare in a magnet special ed classroom for lower functioning students. He doesn’t even really fit into a typical magnet autistic classroom either. Right before J entered kindergarten, I took the tour of the magnet autism classroom and thought, “J could never learn here. The meltdowns, the defiance, all the things that J exhibits too when he’s frustrated–it would just reinforce his own behaviors.” It was also really, really loud. J would go crazy with all of the auditory stimulation and be so stressed out, he wouldn’t be able to learn. No, the magnet autistic classroom really wasn’t an option either.

J manages changing classrooms, the transitions, and  going to all 8 periods of the day just fine. He opens his locker on his own without help. In fact, when W had to navigate her locker before school started, he easily opened hers on the first try. He LOVES geography, choir, FACS, and art–all classes he wouldn’t have access to if he were in a magnet special education or autism classroom all day. Even though he is absolutely dreadful at social interactions, he loves to see his friends throughout the day, so he’d miss a lot of those opportunities if he were placed in the “low functioning” places in the current system.

But he isn’t “high functioning” enough to navigate a regular classroom on his own. He needs a para with him at all times (primarily to help him regulate his emotions and behaviors), he needs someone to make sure he’s on task and he’s got his work organized. Someone to make sure his work is legible and his work is turned in. He’s not like the Aspies who can demonstrate savant-like qualities that make it easier for students and teachers forgive those “high functioning autistic kids” of their social-emotional deficits.

Sometimes he can be disruptive or say and do inappropriate things. How do you manage his learning with the learning of his peers in his class? How do you be fair to them and make sure they have the right learning environment that they need?

How exactly do you educate a kid like J?

Middle school also throws a wrench in the situation because instead of one classroom teacher who sees J intermittently throughout the day (while he is pulled for speech or OT or extra help on an assignment), J has 8 different teachers a day who have less than an hour to figure him out as well as the rest of the kids in the class and teach their lessons.

That’s why I’m so grateful that we have great teachers and paras who are willing to work with him. I know this kid can learn–he loves to learn. You have to be creative sometimes, but boy when that boy gets it, he GETS IT. The big challenge is how do we make this work for him and everyone else? How do I, as a mother who knows my kid can do things–who may take years to learn things but will absolutely learn things–how do I make sure he’s in the right situation with the right people?

I feel like we’re sort of the trailblazers and that we’re making mistakes all the time–torching fields left and right. Breaking new ground along side educators trying to find out how to help J academically, socially, and emotionally is hard. Many educators with their decades-long experiences in the classroom have never had a kid like J come through the system. But my gut says that J’s not the only “middle autism” kid out there. That there will be plenty more coming through the pipeline in the years ahead.

Since J’s come back from winter break and started a new semester, the team has come up with a few (I think) really great ideas to help J navigate the classroom a little better and hopefully in the long run, gain some more independence. This is the idea I’m the most excited about right now:

This is an example of J’s daily sheet. There are personal responsibilities like taking care of himself and his property that are set daily expectations. Then there are two expectations in each class that the teacher and para decide are appropriate for that day that J needs to meet. Classroom expectations are the difficult ones to anticipate because they change on a daily (sometimes even within the classroom time). This way J knows that he can strive to meet two expectations each class. The percentage at the bottom is how many items he completed (which helps me gauge what he’s motivated and doing at school).

We’re also working on modifying his classwork. Through our IEP discussion we discovered that J’s academics boil down to two big things. 1) He’s great at memorization and facts and 2) He really really struggles with applying knowledge and abstract thinking.  So he may be able to tell you every capital city of every country in the world, but he won’t be able to tell you why people build economies around certain natural resources. So we’re modifying some of his assignments a little. For example, if a classroom teacher expects the class to, say, understand 3 abstract concepts during the week, J might be expected to understand 1. This idea is still in the planning stages, but I think it’s a great modification. J gets really frustrated when he’s overwhelmed with a list of things he feels he “can’t do.” If we narrow that list down to a few things, then he can work at understanding those concepts a lot better.

I know this kid can do this. This summer he could barely scribble color on a Mario coloring page. Now he colors in countries on maps in Geography. Yes, he’s delayed in many ways–but this kid has got potential. It may take him days, weeks, months, even years to figure something out. But he’ll do it. That’s why I can’t give up on him. That’s why I have to make sure the system doesn’t give up on him.

J’s latest geography test. he got 37/40 countries correct. (I’m embarrassed to say I wouldn’t be able to do that). But the thing that really, really gets me excited–CHECK OUT THAT HANDWRITING!!!

We’ve come from this last year:

Copying out one definition

To this!!! (Be still my heart!):

J, if you promise not to give up trying, I’ll make sure other people won’t give up on you.

 

 

 

 

Staying Inside the Lines

I feel like when you’re doing the autism gig, you’re constantly keeping your kid within the lines, corralling them into the spaces society creates. There’s personal boundaries, ethical boundaries, social boundaries. As a society I think that’s how we make sense of the world.

Autistic kids are always seeking these lines and laws and boundaries too. Except they have their own lines and boundaries and many times they don’t match up with everyone else’s.

Of course, “staying inside the figurative lines” has always been sort of an enigma to J. Figurative lines are more nuanced. You can’t see someone’s personal bubble–and everybody’s is different. You can tell a joke but sometimes it backfires and hurts someone’s feelings. These are the things you can’t see. They’re harder to judge.

Watching J trick-or-treat this year was a great reminder to me of the progress he’s made especially in the last two years trying to navigate these invisible lines. J hasn’t been the best trick-or-treater. Up until these last two years his experiences have been hard at times. I think trick-or-treating is a little bit of an enigma for kids with autism. It’s the one time a year where you ring door bells and beg strangers for candy. There’s always that awkward moment at the screen door where you’re not sure if you’re invited in, because the person at the door leaves you between the screen door and the front door (but leaves the front door open) and tells you to wait one second but you’re not allowed to come in. Sometimes the person will drop candy in your bag, and other times they’ll hold the bowl–do you wait for them to take something out of the bowl and give it to you? Do you take one on your own? Do you take more than one? Then you’re supposed to recite some phrase that makes no sense at all: “Trick-or-treat!” what does that even mean? Is the person at the door tricking you? Are you supposed to do a trick? Nobody does either of these things. All of the lines of traditional social decorum you’re supposed to stay inside are gone and there’s this weird dance between you and a stranger going on at the door.

To make things worse for J, there was the whole dog factor. J was terrified of dogs up until two years ago (when we ended up adopting a dog of our own and J could figure out dogs a little better–that’s another story for another day) and so every doorbell was like Russian roulette and if the lot fell on a dog door, J would go flying down the driveway before the dog owner could drop a few pieces of candy in his bag.

I guarantee most people don’t think about any of these things when it comes to Halloween. I can tell you I never did until J and autism came around.

This year everything went perfectly. I was so proud of our J, seeing him go up to each door by himself, with confidence, and go through all the quirky motions of “trick-or-treat decorum,” wait patiently for candy, taking an appropriate amount when offered a bowl, saying hello to the dogs. Saying thank you EVERY TIME. Wishing people a “Happy Halloween” as if he were wishing people a “Merry Christmas.” It was wonderful. And bittersweet, because just as he’s finally figured out this strange ritual we’ve constructed for kids he’s on the edge of being too old to participate. I find that’s often the strange thing about parenting an autistic child, once you’ve finally mastered something you want to pause, enjoy it, shout from the rooftops “hey look! we’ve figured it out,” but you can’t, because society’s constantly moving on and you have to keep running along too.

J went as Commander Riker (sans the beard) and W went as Rosie the Riviter this year.

Even though it’s tough, J knows “staying inside the lines” is so important to keeping himself happy. He has a really hard time functioning if he can’t figure out where the lines are. Even when it comes to school work. I think J feels constantly out of control, like things are shifting all around him–lots of times visually and mentally. Drawing lines, boxing things up, compartmentalizing, containing things. There’s a control in that, and it helps J make sense of things.

I’ve mentioned J’s visual spatial processing issues before. Containing things, keeping letters and symbols in their right place is very hard and yet very important, especially when it comes to taking notes and doing math problems. J’s been struggling with math lately. I have to say, this is hard. Because I was/still am an absolute mess when it comes to math. That’s why I became an English major. I was so terrible at math that at one point my parents made me do a stint in Kumon for a year. That year I did worksheets on fractions. Every day. Drill after drill. I have to say it’s probably the one thing in math I can do in my sleep. Right now J is reviewing fractions again–and here’s a sample of the basic method I came up with for dealing with fractions. It’s basically boxing up fractions to keep the numbers straight. Of course he’s doing more complicated fractions than this (mixed numbers, subtracting/borrowing from mixed numbers–maybe I’ll put the rest of my fractions strategies in another post), but here’s where it begins. He still struggles with some of the harder stuff–the more steps added on, the more there is to juggle. But he seems to get this method.

Here’s the weird irony of it all. As an autism parent, you’re constantly keeping your kid within the lines, corralling them into the spaces society creates, providing highly structured learning experiences for your child. But at the same time, you as a parent have to think outside all of these things. You’re forced to think outside of the box to solve problems other people can’t solve ALL THE TIME. To look at our world–our society–in ways that nobody else normally thinks of them. It gives you perspective and ingenuity you never thought you had. And I have to say that’s really satisfying too–just as much as seeing your child master the art of staying in the lines.

Working With the Handwriting Enigma

Through the last few months of school, I’ve been itching to work on J’s handwriting problems. With school going on, I couldn’t squeeze in the time or afford another homework battle when we had so many other things to do. Ever since he was three years old, J’s worked with an OT on his fine and gross motor skills. At three years old, he had already started Handwriting Without Tears (http://www.hwtears.com/hwt). He loves handwriting. He’s the only kid his age that I know who actually chooses cursive over printing. In fact, when I have my college students write in-class assignments, every single assignment comes back to me printed. Printed. Apparently kids these days don’t use cursive anymore.

J wasn’t always terrible at handwriting and printing. In fact, he was amazing. He entered kindergarten already knowing upper and lower case letters. Because he could print, we could get into his mind in ways we couldn’t through his speech because he’s much better at expressing himself through writing than he is through speaking.

Here is a sample of J’s printing right when he started kindergarten.

(This is J expressing his anxiety over light switches, shortly after our move to Fargo. It looks big, but it’s actually on a note card)

Printing and writing are a way he can process the world around him. Here is a map he drew of our neighborhood, including circles for Christmas lights and flags.

(This is about grade one or 7-8 years old)

This is J’s writing today. I don’t know what happened. I don’t know if he needed daily practice on his writing skills, or just trying to keep up with new concepts in class was too much combined with the fine motor skills required for printing/handwriting, but his writing just exploded–literally–all over the page. And I’ve noticed in the last year or two it’s gotten worse and worse:

Copying out one definition

Word on top of words

Teachers tell me over and over that handwriting doesn’t matter anymore. That kids type everything now, and that J will be just fine (he can type more wpm than me). But I don’t buy it. There is much more to writing than just writing words down. Handwriting plays a crucial role in our lives. It forces us to synthesize information when we write it down (because we can’t write nearly as fast as we can type), while we tend to type things verbatim on the computer. Studies are finding our brains retain information better when we write things down than when we type them. http://www.npr.org/2015/05/27/408794237/in-a-digital-chapter-paper-notebooks-are-as-relevant-as-ever

J’s not developmentally at the point he can synthesize information, but he needs to write. The last two months of this school year I realized it was the only way he could study and remember his social studies words (like Peloponnesian Wars, Delian League, Pericles, etc). It’s like his brain needed to feel the words through his pencil in order to retain them.

And then there’s math:

He doesn’t even have enough room to complete the next step

Handwriting requires visual spatial planning. J is really good at math, he knows every single step in answering an equation, but won’t get it right unless he dictates the steps and numbers to a para educator. In fact he’ll get it wrong every single time on his own because he can’t line things up.

So yeah, I’m going to say handwriting is pretty important to this kid.

Ever since school has been out, J and I practice handwriting every single day. He’s done it in the past, I know he can do it again. About a month before school was out, one of J’s paras ordered printing paper for him (like he had back in elementary school), he seemed to get the hang of it pretty quickly again. Math was still a problem. We’ve tried grid paper in the past, but it was just too visually overstimulating for him. There were too many boxes, and sometimes (like fractions) it was hard to organize it on the page. So I  decided to make my own paper. It was really crude, but I cut strips of construction paper, glued them on printer paper, and then took it to the UPS store and made $25.00 worth of copies. This is how it turned out:

And this is J using it for math:

Three completed problems

And this is J using it for handwriting:

I added bars in a different color so that he can see how he needs to account for spacing and how to plan the size of his letters

In fact, a few days ago, I couldn’t find a modified paper for him as we were studying geography so I pulled out a regular sheet of paper and it’s amazing!

(He still takes more than one line to write his letters, but HUGE improvement)

Anyone else struggle with handwriting? What kind of creative things have you come up with? What problems do you encounter?