Maybe I should add “so far” to the title.
My son’s transition to high school was not easy; freshman year posed new problems, but (happily) also brought new skills.
In sixth grade he was friends with twins – newcomers to his school who left after one year. My son was looking forward to reestablishing ties with them at the high school – all of our town elementary schools (which run kindergarten through eighth grade) feed into one high school. He was disappointed when they expressed no interest in picking up where they had left off with my son, having never put the same importance on the friendship as he did.
This was one of the first times when he felt a need to communicate his feelings to peers, and it was a difficult thing for him to do. He was hurt by the fact that they were ignoring him; I think he was also more aware of how hard it was for him to make friends.
For the first two months or so of high school, he was disconsolate. The work load was demanding and the social scene was unfamiliar to him. The therapist (we called him a “talk doctor” when my son was younger) he had been seeing for some time was particularly supportive during this time, and I also let the Learning Center teachers know he was going through a rough patch. (I like to think that this was proactive on my part, and not controlling!) They introduced my son to one of the school’s social workers. He turned out to be the one extra person who was able to get my son out of his funk, by giving my son specific strategies not only to help him talk to the twins but also how to get involved elsewhere in the school.
By Christmas break of his freshman year, he was in a much better place. He let the twins know that he was hurt by the fact that they were ignoring him and they apologized; they had not intended to snub him and really had not been aware of the impact of their behavior. He was still not one to go out on a weekend night with friends, but he continued to play rec league baseball and that helped him cultivate peer connections. Having developed a taste for drama by doing a production in eighth grade, my son auditioned for and won a role in the freshman drama production of "Animal Farm."
Any young teenager goes through a period of finding themselves among their peers in a new situation, and it was not very different for my son. His four years of high school proved to be a true growth period – academically, physically, and in his own self confidence level. Social connections were coming as well, albeit much more slowly than a “proactive” parent would prefer.
Friday, October 30, 2009
Thursday, October 29, 2009
These are the Wonder Years, the Formative Years, Ages 1 through 12...12...12...
A reader (apparently I have a couple!) asked about specific strategies for boosting self confidence for children with social communications disabilities in middle school.
In the case of my son, I thought at the time that these years were harder for his Dad and me than they were for him. In school, he really liked all his teachers, especially the specialist he worked with in the Learning Center a couple of days a week. Although he was not an outstanding athlete, he played soccer, basketball and baseball through our town’s recreation league so had a peer group outside of school. By then, he was too old for arranged play dates, so beyond school and team sports he didn’t really have friends over, or go to friends’ houses. Our town sponsored four or five dances a year for 7th and 8th graders, and my son went to many of them.
He’d come home afterward and usually said it was fun, or at least “okay.” And every time, my husband and I wondered/worried who he talked to there, who he stood with for that matter. There were those who would say to us, “that’s great that he goes; I could never do that when I was his age.” And a little voice inside me would be saying, “Well, he doesn’t ‘get’ that kids don’t usually hang out alone at these events.”
It was not until the last year or so that he told me that he was aware, either at the time or in hindsight, that he had few friends in elementary school. The part of his life that I had thought was harder on his parents was not so great for him either. On his way off – stag – to his senior prom, he mentioned that “At least I know I’ll have friends I can talk to – not like those rec dances.”
His Dad and I never pushed him to go to those dances; in fact, no small part of me often wished he would stay home. I think we knew he would be largely on the outside looking in. Yet of the eight or so dances between 7th and 8th grades, I bet he went to more than half. I don’t know why he went; I don’t know if he’s a more confident person because he went or if it might have diminished his self-esteem.
I do know that by that time, he already had a truly exceptional network of adults who encouraged him and engaged him, including teachers, therapists and family members. Moreover, his peers respected him – even if they did not go out of their way to invite my son to do things with them. There was never any of the teasing or bullying that creeps into the lives of some children with social communication disorders.
That’s not the best you can ask for under the circumstances, but caring empathetic adult relationships can compensate to a significant degree for a shortage of peer friends. For the first few years my son had a cell phone, most of his contacts were family members. He’d go “walk-about” and call his grandparents, aunts or uncles. They were actually good friends to him as well.
In the case of my son, I thought at the time that these years were harder for his Dad and me than they were for him. In school, he really liked all his teachers, especially the specialist he worked with in the Learning Center a couple of days a week. Although he was not an outstanding athlete, he played soccer, basketball and baseball through our town’s recreation league so had a peer group outside of school. By then, he was too old for arranged play dates, so beyond school and team sports he didn’t really have friends over, or go to friends’ houses. Our town sponsored four or five dances a year for 7th and 8th graders, and my son went to many of them.
He’d come home afterward and usually said it was fun, or at least “okay.” And every time, my husband and I wondered/worried who he talked to there, who he stood with for that matter. There were those who would say to us, “that’s great that he goes; I could never do that when I was his age.” And a little voice inside me would be saying, “Well, he doesn’t ‘get’ that kids don’t usually hang out alone at these events.”
It was not until the last year or so that he told me that he was aware, either at the time or in hindsight, that he had few friends in elementary school. The part of his life that I had thought was harder on his parents was not so great for him either. On his way off – stag – to his senior prom, he mentioned that “At least I know I’ll have friends I can talk to – not like those rec dances.”
His Dad and I never pushed him to go to those dances; in fact, no small part of me often wished he would stay home. I think we knew he would be largely on the outside looking in. Yet of the eight or so dances between 7th and 8th grades, I bet he went to more than half. I don’t know why he went; I don’t know if he’s a more confident person because he went or if it might have diminished his self-esteem.
I do know that by that time, he already had a truly exceptional network of adults who encouraged him and engaged him, including teachers, therapists and family members. Moreover, his peers respected him – even if they did not go out of their way to invite my son to do things with them. There was never any of the teasing or bullying that creeps into the lives of some children with social communication disorders.
That’s not the best you can ask for under the circumstances, but caring empathetic adult relationships can compensate to a significant degree for a shortage of peer friends. For the first few years my son had a cell phone, most of his contacts were family members. He’d go “walk-about” and call his grandparents, aunts or uncles. They were actually good friends to him as well.
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Step One
They say admitting you have a problem is the first step in dealing with it. Obviously a learning or physical disability is not a problem, but it is definitely something you have to deal with.
My son sent an email last night to his Stage Tech teacher, with words to this effect: I have a nonverbal learning disorder that makes it more difficult than normal to do these types of assignments. Can we meet?
This was after he went to the Internet to search for directions on how to do these particular stitches; he did find illustrations, but they were “too vague” to help him.
These two actions provide me with a good deal of insight into his odds for success in college. First, he took the initiative to try an alternative means to figure out this sewing assignment. Second, he acknowledged his learning disability. And third, he pointed out by saying "more difficult than normal" that this would "normally" be a difficulty assignment anyway!
It isn’t as though we hid the NLD from him for the past ten years; but neither did we ever really discuss the particulars of it during that time. However, last summer as he was preparing to leave, I gave him the write-up with the results of his most recent evaluation, which was really the best written of all the evaluations he has had. It was a clearly written summary of his strengths and weaknesses, the developmental history was right on target, and it ended with four strategies for success in the classroom.
At the time, he just filed it somewhere, and I still don’t know if he read it or even if he still has it. I did verbally stress the four strategies (which included extra wait time for him to formulate an answer, used of a keyboard for tests and assignments, extra time on tests and…hmm; I’ll have to get back with the last one!).
His teacher responded very thoughtfully, thanking him for the heads up, offering some meeting times to discuss it further, and reminding him of the availability of the school’s Learning Center. I assume that the latter will also be confirmed at the meeting he has next week with Disability Services.
My son sent an email last night to his Stage Tech teacher, with words to this effect: I have a nonverbal learning disorder that makes it more difficult than normal to do these types of assignments. Can we meet?
This was after he went to the Internet to search for directions on how to do these particular stitches; he did find illustrations, but they were “too vague” to help him.
These two actions provide me with a good deal of insight into his odds for success in college. First, he took the initiative to try an alternative means to figure out this sewing assignment. Second, he acknowledged his learning disability. And third, he pointed out by saying "more difficult than normal" that this would "normally" be a difficulty assignment anyway!
It isn’t as though we hid the NLD from him for the past ten years; but neither did we ever really discuss the particulars of it during that time. However, last summer as he was preparing to leave, I gave him the write-up with the results of his most recent evaluation, which was really the best written of all the evaluations he has had. It was a clearly written summary of his strengths and weaknesses, the developmental history was right on target, and it ended with four strategies for success in the classroom.
At the time, he just filed it somewhere, and I still don’t know if he read it or even if he still has it. I did verbally stress the four strategies (which included extra wait time for him to formulate an answer, used of a keyboard for tests and assignments, extra time on tests and…hmm; I’ll have to get back with the last one!).
His teacher responded very thoughtfully, thanking him for the heads up, offering some meeting times to discuss it further, and reminding him of the availability of the school’s Learning Center. I assume that the latter will also be confirmed at the meeting he has next week with Disability Services.
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Slicing a Bagel
My son was making himself a bagel for breakfast recently and I noticed that he was slicing it the “New York” way. I have heard (who knows if it’s true) that most of the Emergency Room visits in New York City on a typical Sunday morning are for hand wounds inflicted by bread knives while slicing a bagel.
A knife with a serrated blade works best for slicing bagels and crusty bread. Since you’re using a sharp instrument, do NOT hold the bagel flat on your palm and slice it toward you. I realize many people do this successfully every day, but it really is not the best way, nor is it safe. It’s usually going to be better if you place the bagel vertically on a counter or cutting board, hold the knife handle – blade down – with one hand and place the other hand over the top of the blade. Guide the knife through the middle of the bagel in a gentle sawing motion to the bottom and pull it apart.
Instructions on cutting a bagel might not be very impressive – can’t anyone slice a bagel, and can’t anyone do that any way they want to? As my son would say, “W/E” (text lingo for whatever); but please be careful.
A knife with a serrated blade works best for slicing bagels and crusty bread. Since you’re using a sharp instrument, do NOT hold the bagel flat on your palm and slice it toward you. I realize many people do this successfully every day, but it really is not the best way, nor is it safe. It’s usually going to be better if you place the bagel vertically on a counter or cutting board, hold the knife handle – blade down – with one hand and place the other hand over the top of the blade. Guide the knife through the middle of the bagel in a gentle sawing motion to the bottom and pull it apart.
Instructions on cutting a bagel might not be very impressive – can’t anyone slice a bagel, and can’t anyone do that any way they want to? As my son would say, “W/E” (text lingo for whatever); but please be careful.
Monday, October 26, 2009
Giving Up?
Today my son called to tell me that he intended to write an email to the Stage Tech teacher to let her know that this sewing assignment seemed beyond his capability. He told me it felt like he was “giving up,” but I think he intended to send the email anyway.
Some suggestions I gave him: Explain why you’re having a hard time; ask for, don’t demand an alternative assignment; copy the Office for Students with Disabilities in on the email, so they will at least be aware of the challenge. I asked if he wanted me to take a look at a draft, but his come-back was, “if I can be respectful asking that guy not to call me, I think I can manage this email.”
Is he giving up? Is it ever giving up if you’ve tried your best? I think it is okay to concede defeat once in a while, especially when not doing so becomes a major distraction from the bigger picture.
Some suggestions I gave him: Explain why you’re having a hard time; ask for, don’t demand an alternative assignment; copy the Office for Students with Disabilities in on the email, so they will at least be aware of the challenge. I asked if he wanted me to take a look at a draft, but his come-back was, “if I can be respectful asking that guy not to call me, I think I can manage this email.”
Is he giving up? Is it ever giving up if you’ve tried your best? I think it is okay to concede defeat once in a while, especially when not doing so becomes a major distraction from the bigger picture.
Friday, October 23, 2009
Is Anybody There?
This stirring song from the play and film, “1776,” has John Adams talking to an empty room.
Although the title of the blog is Instructions for life, for those who need the book…although the stated goal of the blog is to help adolescents and young adults who have social communications disorders…although my objective is to help my son be even more successful, I have to tell you – he is not the least bit interested in reading this.
For those who think I am too involved in my son’s life, rest assured my involvement is largely “virtual” – through this unread blog! Someone will get something out of it some day…I hope...
Although the title of the blog is Instructions for life, for those who need the book…although the stated goal of the blog is to help adolescents and young adults who have social communications disorders…although my objective is to help my son be even more successful, I have to tell you – he is not the least bit interested in reading this.
For those who think I am too involved in my son’s life, rest assured my involvement is largely “virtual” – through this unread blog! Someone will get something out of it some day…I hope...
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Office for Students with Disabilities
A few weeks ago, when my husband was picking up my son for the weekend, my husband stopped in to the college’s Office for Students with Disabilities. He was impressed by the people he met, and suggested to my son that he should stop in and talk to one of the intake advisers.
Unfortunately, my husband had the fellow’s name wrong. When my son asked for him yesterday, they said there was no one by that name working there. Still, he set up an appointment to talk about potential accommodations in two weeks.
In the meantime, stealth Mom dropped a note to find out the person’s name and he responded promptly, and suggested that if my son felt he needed to get in sooner, to just call him. I forwarded his response to my son, so he would have the contact information. I hope he will make the call; but – worst case – he has the appointment.
And that’s a good thing. Because when he met with his faculty adviser today, they talked about next semester’s courses…and that was pretty much it. I asked if he mentioned the sewing assignment; no – he forgot.
After about three days of stressing about tying a knot in thread and sewing a seam, I was surprised that he would forget to bring up the subject; could be that it was not the forum to discuss particular classroom problems. In any event, she had offered help to the class for anyone who needed it. At some point, I know he will figure it out.
Unfortunately, my husband had the fellow’s name wrong. When my son asked for him yesterday, they said there was no one by that name working there. Still, he set up an appointment to talk about potential accommodations in two weeks.
In the meantime, stealth Mom dropped a note to find out the person’s name and he responded promptly, and suggested that if my son felt he needed to get in sooner, to just call him. I forwarded his response to my son, so he would have the contact information. I hope he will make the call; but – worst case – he has the appointment.
And that’s a good thing. Because when he met with his faculty adviser today, they talked about next semester’s courses…and that was pretty much it. I asked if he mentioned the sewing assignment; no – he forgot.
After about three days of stressing about tying a knot in thread and sewing a seam, I was surprised that he would forget to bring up the subject; could be that it was not the forum to discuss particular classroom problems. In any event, she had offered help to the class for anyone who needed it. At some point, I know he will figure it out.
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