Ariane Zurcher emmashopebook.com All examples are misunderstandings or things that have been said and done to Emma by someone within a school setting. My daughter, Emma will be at your school this year. A few days ago, Emma told me she was “scared to go to new school.” Emma loved her teachers and friends from her old school. So I want to introduce you to her. I cannot speak for Emma, I cannot know if everything I write here is completely accurate, but these are things I have learned over the years, things that are specific to Emma and that may be helpful, at least that is my hope. Sometimes Emma does not look at you when you are speaking to her, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t hear you. Her hearing is excellent. She may not know how to process what you’ve said or she may not know what…
Tag: education
Does back-to-school make your stomach do backflips? Ours, too. So we asked some of TPGA’s contributors what they wish they’d known — as parents, or as students — about the back-to-school season. Here’s what they shared: Mir Kamin wouldashoulda.com I knew it was okay to press for what my kid needed, but it took me a really long time to learn that it was also okay to admit when it’s time to stop trying to hammer your square peg into a round hole (and go find a square hole). I never in my wildest dreams expected to be a part-time homeschooler/unschooler, and yet it turned out to be a wonderful solution for our family once I gave up on the assumption of “making it work” with public school. Mind you, classroom accommodations provided by my son’s IEP worked for a while … until they didn’t. I’m so glad I finally…
How the right accommodations helped one autistic student instantly go “from being a misunderstood, odd child with behavior problems to being a supported autistic child.”
Kate We are scarred, we adults on the spectrum. We are scarred, both inside and out. Our lives are twisted paths littered with diagnoses. We have fought for years to get to where we are now, and still it isn’t good enough. We are scarred. We went to schools where there was no help. Sometimes we were shunted into special education rooms, or to the behavior-problems division. There we were taught that we were ‘stupid,’ ‘retarded,’ that we would never amount to anything. We were accused of cheating when we read so well but couldn’t write an essay, drew complex diagrams yet failed math. We were denied entry into higher-level classes because we didn’t appear to be smart or participating in class, and our minds thirsted in vain for more knowledge. We went to therapies, all sorts of therapies. Look at this ink blot, what do you see? I see…
Estée Klar www.esteeklar.com My son Adam has been in “therapy” since he was 20 months of age. I have reams of notes and binders used to create his programs, track his progress, develop his plans with other professionals who use ABA, RDI, Floortime and other methods. I have a decade of experience with autism education and various therapies, many of the approaches dubious. I’ve witnessed improvements in the field, and I continue to have a watchful eye. I predicted Adam would be forced into an ABA program, and here we are, in an segregated school for autistic children. Not that it’s a “bad” thing. I am actually grateful to be in a system that is set up more for him rather than completely disregards him. Adam, for now, is happy there and he is learning, but it’s a fact that it’s still exclusion which we mitigate with other inclusive programs.…
J. Lorraine Martin cheeselesspizza.blogspot.com The setting was surreal: a mountain range, cast in orange hues against a crisp blue sky; cactuses dotting the landscape and the occasional roadrunner darting across a street; row upon row of well-tended tennis courts and throngs of onlookers all dressed in their tennis best. It felt unimaginable that my daughter’s neighborhood tennis team had played a year of matches leading them all the way to a coveted spot at the National Championships in Tucson, Arizona. Amazingly, it came down to the final match with my daughter representing her team in singles. My heart was pounding, a whirlwind of joy and nervousness weaving through all the struggle and collective effort to reach such a thrilling moment in time. Years later, I found myself witnessing a moment involving my oldest son that carried the same beautiful thread of perseverance; however, before one can understand the depth and…
Susan Senator www.susansenator.com In 1993 when Nat was first diagnosed with Pervasive Developmental Disorder, (PDD) under the “Autism Umbrella,” I asked the doctor what do you do about that, what is the treatment? “Education,” he replied. He went on to tell me that no one really knew which approach was best, and that there were many schools of thought. “It is up to you to observe and figure out what works for Nat. When something is right for him, you’ll know,” he continued enigmatically. But I envisioned Nat at school — though back then I could barely picture that, he seemed so little and vulnerable — and this advice seemed wrong. He needed me, not school, I remember feeling. He would be bewildered by school. Lost. But the doctor was saying that he should actually be in school for as many hours as possible. (No one said “at least 30-40…
Charlotte Moore www.ambitiousaboutautism.org.uk Charlotte Moore is an author, journalist and Parent Patron of Ambitious about Autism. Here she writes about her hopes and fears for her son Sam as he moves on from school and in to adulthood. We hope readers will share their own experiences and opinions about this transition period. My son Sam left school in July 2011. Sam has autism with learning difficulties. At 19, he has reached the age at which the government relinquishes responsibility for the education of people like him. I hope I won’t come to look back wistfully at Sam’s school years as a lost golden age. I hope that the home-based timetable I’m in the process of constructing will serve his needs. But I’m daunted to discover how much is down to me. For a long, long time — almost as long as he can remember — Sam has been in a…
Lydia Wayman autisticspeaks.wordpress.com There is so much misinformation and so many misperceptions out there about people with disabilities, and that includes autism. I’ve read some things lately, comments by teachers or people who will teach, that have sent me reeling. In typical Lydia fashion, I will write a Ten Things in an attempt to dispel these myths about people like me. 1. People with disabilities are not always happy, joyful, eternally childlike, or “perfect angels.” People with disabilities are humans. This means that we experience the full range of human emotion, including the uncomfortable ones, such as anger and sadness. Some of us are generally happy, just like some people without disabilities are generally happy, but others of us are confused, angry, hateful, manipulative, and so on. Autistic children display inappropriate and unwanted behavior just like typical children do. 2. Always assume we understand everything you’re saying when we’re in…
Jean Winegardner www.stimeyland.com Photo courtesy of the author I am always apprehensive about parent-teacher conferences. Nothing bad ever happens. Sam has never gotten anything but glowing reviews. Quinn is Quinn, which is wonderful and charming. And Jack? Well, I always hear that he is very smart, that he is “making sufficient progress to meet goal(s).” In fact, I never really hear anything that surprises me, but I still feel angst walking in to those meetings — at least to Jack’s. Today was different. I’ve noticed Jack struggling more and more this year. I’ve started to wonder if an inclusion classroom is the best setting for him. (That’s a whole other set of angsty feelings.) I’ve started to see his autism-specific deficits bumping up against the curriculum. But here’s the thing. Jack’s teacher sees this, recognizes it for what it is, and gave him the appropriate marks to reflect it. She…