Can we talk together?

This magic moment:

It is indoor recess and they play together, building with our large, foam, 'blue blocks.' They construct a simple structure with a long bench, which promptly becomes a shared bench for conversation. They pretend to be Momma and Daddy, and talk about taking care of the baby and the dog. One preschooler does all the talking, because, honestly, the other is developmentally delayed in speaking. What makes this first preschooler persist in the conversation? She has a sixth sense for her partner's delight and interest in the game, and a huge empathic heart that is not in the least bit stopped by lack of speech. It is beautiful to watch.

We adults have much to learn from children.

Magic.

SOLSC #14: What do you expect?

I am participating in the
March 2018 Slice of Life Story Challenge (SOLSC).
All participants are writing about one moment, one part of their day, every day for thirty-one days.

A big thank you to Two Writing Teachers for providing this unique opportunity

for teacher-writers to share and reflect.

Today started off with one bad surprise after another.

Getting ready for work, I put on my last pair of clean socks and my heel when right through one of them.

I didn't expect that!

I grabbed my phone from where it had been charging all night and it had no charge whatsoever.

I didn't expect that! 

At the metro station, I scanned my metro card but the turnstile did not unlock...I almost flipped over the outstretched arms of that machine - oh my! 

I didn't expect that!

Sitting on the metro, I hear my stop announced; I stand up to leave my seat, but my seat mate does not budge to let me out - I am confused momentarily, only to look down at him and realize he is sound asleep...I tapped his shoulder, woke him up, and raced out of the train, almost missing my stop entirely. 

I didn't expect that!

I walked to school from the metro station in freezing cold wind...isn't it March 14th? What in the world?!

I didn't expect that!

As I walked along, I found myself thinking about how hard it is for young children to handle changes like this...especially, young children with special needs such as autism spectrum. How do you ready them for the unexpected? Every day is a surprise, really! Every day is filled with the unexpected. And some days, it is just one thing after the other. You do what you can do to have routine, patterns, organization...but the best-laid plans go awry. Perhaps the best thing to do is find a way to respond to these changes in a soothing way. For me, it's laughter. I try to find something funny about the situation, I try not to take myself too seriously...and, honestly, I think my flip over the turnstile would have been so funny!

SOLSC #4: How much do we need one another?

I am participating in the
March 2018 Slice of Life Story Challenge (SOLSC).
All participants are writing about one moment, one part of their day, every day for thirty-one days.

A big thank you to Two Writing Teachers for providing this unique opportunity

for teacher-writers to share and reflect.

I am thinking about how much we need one another as teachers, how essential it is to have colleagues who can let you vent, let you share about something, give you another set of hands or eyes, offer a new perspective. Just this past week, a quick conversation in the staff room gave me fresh insight, a new technique, a whole new approach. 

This little girl, she is so so so challenging. She doesn't have words when things don't go her way. So, instead, big tantrums occur. Chairs are tossed. Toys are thrown. Pictures, signs, posters are torn down from the wall.

I'm pretty good at preventing. I'm pretty good at deciphering just what might set her off, and how we might adjust the routine and our interactions with her, so that she is more successful. I am working closely with the family; I have sought insight from speech professionals; and I have had folks in to observe her. The reality with a young child, the preschool year is often the start of interventions...this is a process that is just beginning. In the meanwhile, we love her dearly and are helping her find her words.

Even so, the tantrums have been ratcheting up.

My colleagues see me with her, know the challenges I am having, and often help me in the moment. This one morning, after I had soothed my little friend after another tantrum outburst, I slipped into the staff room to get more hot water for my tea, and said to a colleague, "Wow, it's only 10 am, and I am already worn. More tea needed!" She had just helped me the day before with this little girl and she said, "Does it seem like she is having tantrums for everything, whether big or small? It's as if she doesn't want you to speak for her." I said, "Oh, yes, she is having many more tantrums. You are right," and I walked away.

That phrase, "...she doesn't want you to speak for her" wove through the recesses of my mind all day long and into the night. First thing in the morning, my eyes opened wide.


She doesn't want us to speak for her.
She doesn't want us to THINK for her.
She realizes she doesn't have agency.
She doesn't want her friends to misunderstand her.
She doesn't want teachers to soothe her.
It's actually a sign that she is more engaged in the classroom.
It's actually a sign that she is determined to interact with her classmates and teachers.
SHE WANTS TO COMMUNICATE AND CANNOT.
SHE IS VERY VERY VERY VERY VERY FRUSTRATED.

Oh my goodness.

I have gotten so consumed by the work of her that I forgot to notice her hard work.

It is NOT "she has to stop having tantrums and learn to take five deep cleansing breaths," it is she has to learn how to say "I want...", "I need...", "I like...", "I have...", and know she is being heard and not simply directed.

When oral language is missing, let's give her sign language. That very day, our school therapist shared with me the hand motions for "I want!" and all that day I jumped to her side and said, "I want!" with the hand signs, as she struggled in relationships with her peers, filling in the noun as needed.

I saw her body relax.

The tantrums aren't gone,
but there is a softening, an understanding, a hopefulness.

Thanks to insight from a colleague.