I have looked back with regret more than a few times since my son started college, and voiced that regret in this space. In particular, I wish we had done more research on disability services for each of the colleges to which my son had applied.
Today on the AANE website, I found a summary of a college survey that the organization conducted in 2008. Here are a few of the tidbits from the survey summary:
1. “If there is any single fundamental factor that determines whether a student’s experience will be negative or positive, it is the willingness of the college’s disability office to take proactive action.”
2. “If possible, get someone on campus to interact with your child regularly: it is essential that someone (advisors, disability office, academic support services, etc) take a proactive approach towards the student.”
On the first point, I would advise young adults with social communications issues (and their parents) to try and meet – or at least speak with – someone in Disability Services in advance. It would have been much easier (in my 20/20 hindsight) to keep my son on track with his academic choices had we done more research prior to enrolling, and explained his nonverbal learning disability and potential problems that might arise because of it (even though there is no anticipating exactly what those problems might be).
On the second point, even now I feel that my son does not have such a person at the college that he can turn to. His current academic advisor is from the Theater department, and he has yet to connect with anyone in Communications. Each time he went to the Director of Disabilities, there was a two week wait for an appointment – not exactly conducive to “interact[ing] with your child regularly.”
I believe my son will successfully complete his first year; and I hope that he can establish a “lifeline” contact, academic advisor or other staff member, early in his second year. Nonetheless, there are so many things that could make the transition easier; and these are just two.
Showing posts with label Asperger's. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Asperger's. Show all posts
Friday, March 26, 2010
Friday, January 22, 2010
More Support
Having looked into many online resources over the past several years, I’ve been on the mailing list of the Asperger’s Association of New England for some time. I mentioned this organization last month in connection with their invitation to my son to write an article for their newsletter (which he has not done). I’ve also bookmarked their web address on my computer, just so I have it handy.
I finally spent some time surfing around the site, which I discovered has a tremendous amount of resources available for children, teens, adults and parents dealing AS (or other related disabilities). Although the site is dedicated in name to Asperger’s Syndrome, many of the links, support groups available and other references provided include Nonverbal Learning Disorder.
The organization offers services for children, teens, young adults and adults, including social activities. The site has links and references to myriad related resources and I highly recommend anyone with an autism spectrum disorder, or anyone who knows someone so afflicted to check this site out. Additional services are available for members, and an annual membership is only $35. Well worth it.
http://www.aane.org/
I finally spent some time surfing around the site, which I discovered has a tremendous amount of resources available for children, teens, adults and parents dealing AS (or other related disabilities). Although the site is dedicated in name to Asperger’s Syndrome, many of the links, support groups available and other references provided include Nonverbal Learning Disorder.
The organization offers services for children, teens, young adults and adults, including social activities. The site has links and references to myriad related resources and I highly recommend anyone with an autism spectrum disorder, or anyone who knows someone so afflicted to check this site out. Additional services are available for members, and an annual membership is only $35. Well worth it.
http://www.aane.org/
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Front Page News
There is a story on the front page of today’s paper about a 13-year-old boy from New York City who was missing for eleven days. The boy was described as having “difficulty with social interaction…seemingly eccentric behavior and isolation.” Sound familiar? He has Asperger’s syndrome. After getting in trouble at school for an incomplete assignment he was afraid to go home, thinking he would be in more trouble. He spent the next week and a half riding – unseen, unnoticed – on the New York subway system. He subsisted on carefully rationed food and bottled water, and used a public restroom at a Brooklyn subway station near Coney Island.
His parents printed and distributed about 2,000 flyers with his picture; the NYC police department and Missing Persons Squad were on constant vigil; eventually the Mexican Consulate got involved in the search as well. Still, this youngster spent eleven days in the subways – unseen, unnoticed – before someone became aware of him and asked his name.
Fortunately, a happy ending: Apart from being hungry, dirty and having leg cramps, the boy was all right physically and returned to school the next week. You want to stand up and cheer that the boy with Asperger’s was clever enough to manage through what must have been a grueling and frightening ordeal. But those who have children with similar disorders know that, to some degree, he was able to manage because he was less aware of the potential things that could go wrong than you or I might be.
My family has received a lot of guidance around my son’s Nonverbal Learning Disability. He’s had specialists working with him, who have also helped us. The relationships with peers that were so difficult to foster were augmented by strong ties to adult family members, friends and mentors. We do our best to try and support and teach him, and still foster his independence. Yet I wonder how long it might have taken someone to notice him.
Children with social communications issues or autism spectrum disorders have a way of staying on the periphery, with an “invisibility cloak” wrapped around them. The more profound the disability, the harder it is to remove the cloak. This boy’s mother said, “I don’t know, as a mother, how to get to his heart.”
She'll need some help.
His parents printed and distributed about 2,000 flyers with his picture; the NYC police department and Missing Persons Squad were on constant vigil; eventually the Mexican Consulate got involved in the search as well. Still, this youngster spent eleven days in the subways – unseen, unnoticed – before someone became aware of him and asked his name.
Fortunately, a happy ending: Apart from being hungry, dirty and having leg cramps, the boy was all right physically and returned to school the next week. You want to stand up and cheer that the boy with Asperger’s was clever enough to manage through what must have been a grueling and frightening ordeal. But those who have children with similar disorders know that, to some degree, he was able to manage because he was less aware of the potential things that could go wrong than you or I might be.
My family has received a lot of guidance around my son’s Nonverbal Learning Disability. He’s had specialists working with him, who have also helped us. The relationships with peers that were so difficult to foster were augmented by strong ties to adult family members, friends and mentors. We do our best to try and support and teach him, and still foster his independence. Yet I wonder how long it might have taken someone to notice him.
Children with social communications issues or autism spectrum disorders have a way of staying on the periphery, with an “invisibility cloak” wrapped around them. The more profound the disability, the harder it is to remove the cloak. This boy’s mother said, “I don’t know, as a mother, how to get to his heart.”
She'll need some help.
Monday, November 9, 2009
The Rest of the Story (so far)
When my son was having so much difficulty with the sewing assignment, we encouraged him to make contact with the Office for Students with Disabilities, which he did. Before he had that meeting, he sent an email to the Tech teacher, explaining that he had a learning disability that made the task more difficult for him. She responded promptly and suggested a meeting, and included the head of the department. At that meeting last Thursday, my son was told that he could not meet the requirements for a BFA in Stage Management. He was told that there were about twelve of the twenty-two required courses that would pose obstacles for him. Moreover, they suggested that he try a “self-designed” major. He was getting expelled from pre-school yet again.
Now my son has spent the past fourteen years, from the pre-school that I wrote about last week through his senior year in high school getting nothing but encouragement and support – only to have the rug pulled out from underneath him with one brief meeting. When he told me about the meeting, he added, “They have a point.”
I am going to add here that he was not completely convinced that he wanted this major even before this meeting. I am going to concede the fact that some astronomically high proportion of college students changes majors, and I was in that majority.
But these two teachers gain no credibility as educators by telling my son that this major was beyond his capabilities. His college is sponsoring a seminar early in 2010 on inclusion practices for Aspberger’s students in the college environment. Guess who should go.
Let’s assume for a moment that my son is fully committed to his chosen major. Or, if he is not, let’s go on the premise that he is willing to complete one year of courses in this major before he makes a decision about whether or not to continue. If his disability were an obvious physical handicap, the school would recognize immediately that they might have to make some adjustments. If he were in a wheelchair, he could not be expected to climb a ladder to check lights.
My son’s disability is more subtle. We were told when he was three years old that he should learn keyboarding and do as much of his work on the computer as he can. While there are required courses in costume design and set design, I would guess that there is computer-assisted design software that he would be able to utilize. When my husband and I went through the course flow chart, these were the only courses (apart from his current Stage Tech course) that we could find that could be really tough. Do you mean to tell me that a school noted for its theater department can not find a way to work with a handicapped student to succeed in a theater major?
For a person with a disability, success in the classroom and eventually the workplace is all about accommodations – not accommodations that would result in “less” of a major or job description – but accommodations that adapt the requirements so that it becomes accessible to someone who wants to pursue it.
My son is meeting with the two teachers and the director of the disability office later this week, and he has agreed to let my husband be there. Our concern is that he will let this be a catalyst to stop trying, and take the easy way out. Sometimes in his eagerness to please, he overlooks what’s best for him. But we are all keeping our minds open.
Now my son has spent the past fourteen years, from the pre-school that I wrote about last week through his senior year in high school getting nothing but encouragement and support – only to have the rug pulled out from underneath him with one brief meeting. When he told me about the meeting, he added, “They have a point.”
I am going to add here that he was not completely convinced that he wanted this major even before this meeting. I am going to concede the fact that some astronomically high proportion of college students changes majors, and I was in that majority.
But these two teachers gain no credibility as educators by telling my son that this major was beyond his capabilities. His college is sponsoring a seminar early in 2010 on inclusion practices for Aspberger’s students in the college environment. Guess who should go.
Let’s assume for a moment that my son is fully committed to his chosen major. Or, if he is not, let’s go on the premise that he is willing to complete one year of courses in this major before he makes a decision about whether or not to continue. If his disability were an obvious physical handicap, the school would recognize immediately that they might have to make some adjustments. If he were in a wheelchair, he could not be expected to climb a ladder to check lights.
My son’s disability is more subtle. We were told when he was three years old that he should learn keyboarding and do as much of his work on the computer as he can. While there are required courses in costume design and set design, I would guess that there is computer-assisted design software that he would be able to utilize. When my husband and I went through the course flow chart, these were the only courses (apart from his current Stage Tech course) that we could find that could be really tough. Do you mean to tell me that a school noted for its theater department can not find a way to work with a handicapped student to succeed in a theater major?
For a person with a disability, success in the classroom and eventually the workplace is all about accommodations – not accommodations that would result in “less” of a major or job description – but accommodations that adapt the requirements so that it becomes accessible to someone who wants to pursue it.
My son is meeting with the two teachers and the director of the disability office later this week, and he has agreed to let my husband be there. Our concern is that he will let this be a catalyst to stop trying, and take the easy way out. Sometimes in his eagerness to please, he overlooks what’s best for him. But we are all keeping our minds open.
Friday, September 18, 2009
ADAM
There is a movie currently playing in theaters called "Adam." I haven't seen it yet.
Adam is the story of a young man who has Asperger's Syndrome. When a pretty young woman moves into his building, he finds himself attracted to her on many levels. The movie follows the evolution of their relationship, as Adam struggles with his undeveloped social skills. For now I'll share two brief clips.
In the first, the upstairs neighbor (Beth) is upset. Adam says "I know you're upset, but I don't know what to do." Beth replies, "Could you give me a hug?" And Adam answers, "Yes." but continues to stand there until Beth clarifies, "Adam, I want you to give me a hug."
The second trailer shows Adam and Beth leaving the Cherry Lane Theater in New York's Greenwich Village with Beth parents. When Beth's father remarks that he hadn't known the theater was there, Adam proceeds to give a detailed, rambling history of the theater. He spouts off shows from its earliest days right through the middle of the twentieth century. At that point Beth finally nudges him and he realizes that his running commentary might have been one of his social blunders. Beth's father says, "Gee, Adam, what about the '70s?" Adam is happy to pick up where he left off until Beth quickly chimes in with, "Adam, my father was joking."
I liked both clips, and I plan to see the movie, so more about that later. But the thought that people will see this and maybe understand a little more about Asperger's, NLD and other social communications disorders leaves me amazed and hopeful for my son.
Adam is the story of a young man who has Asperger's Syndrome. When a pretty young woman moves into his building, he finds himself attracted to her on many levels. The movie follows the evolution of their relationship, as Adam struggles with his undeveloped social skills. For now I'll share two brief clips.
In the first, the upstairs neighbor (Beth) is upset. Adam says "I know you're upset, but I don't know what to do." Beth replies, "Could you give me a hug?" And Adam answers, "Yes." but continues to stand there until Beth clarifies, "Adam, I want you to give me a hug."
The second trailer shows Adam and Beth leaving the Cherry Lane Theater in New York's Greenwich Village with Beth parents. When Beth's father remarks that he hadn't known the theater was there, Adam proceeds to give a detailed, rambling history of the theater. He spouts off shows from its earliest days right through the middle of the twentieth century. At that point Beth finally nudges him and he realizes that his running commentary might have been one of his social blunders. Beth's father says, "Gee, Adam, what about the '70s?" Adam is happy to pick up where he left off until Beth quickly chimes in with, "Adam, my father was joking."
I liked both clips, and I plan to see the movie, so more about that later. But the thought that people will see this and maybe understand a little more about Asperger's, NLD and other social communications disorders leaves me amazed and hopeful for my son.
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