Homeschool, Autism, and Time Management

When we started homeschooling this year, I decided it was time for Tom to take more responsibility for his own schedule. One of the strategies I thought we could try was a kitchen timer. We'd hand him the timer, and have him time his own breaks (our "lessons" are based more on content than on elapsed time).

Early on, we established that breaks would be ten minutes long. I showed him how to set the timer, and told him he could take the timer upstairs to his room so long as he listened for the alarm and let us know when it was time to start work again.

This worked beautifully for a few weeks. He mastered the skill of setting the alarm, and did a terrific job of letting us know it was time to get back to work.

Then, he started trying to negotiate for more time - fifteen, minutes, or maybe twenty. When we were firm, he started making the changes himself, and mentioning them to no-one.

Just yesterday, my husband Peter and I were exchanging notes, and Peter mentioned that Tom had actually reset the timer for 25 minutes... and that, since Peter had gone back to work (in his office) during the break, he really hadn't noticed the passage of time until he looked up at the clock!

At first, we commiserated, saying "how frustrating is that? We've really got to pay more attention to the time ourselves."

Then, we realized what a huge leap Tom had taken. Not only had he really, truly mastered the idea of measuring increments of time - he had also mastered the concept of RELATIVE increments of time (20 minutes is longer than 10 minutes), and he had worked out how to MEASURE a longer increment of time. Even more impressive, he had figured out how to manipulate his own schedule by SECRETLY changing the setting on the timer - a big jump in terms of "theory of mind." He knew we weren't paying attention, and that he thus had the power to make changes secretly, and change the schedule to his own benefit.

Having finally noticed the significance of this change, I then realized that he'd made other "silent" leaps that we'd essentially ignored. For example, he's decided to learn to bowl one-handed - entirely on his own - and while it's tough for him, he's persevering. He's noticing the emotions of other kids in the bowling league, and when one boy was upset we talked about the clues that showed us "upset" (red eyes, for one). Tom then remembered that HIS eyes had been red when HE'd been upset! He was also able to identify that a girl telling her friend to "shut up!" was just fooling around - because of the tone of her voice (which he was able to imitate).

Homeschool gym and "Hot Jazz" (afterschool jazz ensemble) are also a real breeze this year. Tom's joining in, paying attention, and generally connecting with the experiences being offered. While he still isn't really chatting with anyone else, he IS doing pratfalls, acting silly, taking his turn, smiling a lot - all wonderful social skills.

These changes are really pretty exciting - and seem to bode well for this year. Right now, I'm also considering a change in his clarinet teacher. He's working with a wonderful musician who was also the dean of a college music education department - and while it's good to be working hard on the basic skills of music and rhythm reading and execution, it isn't much fun. At this point, it seems to me that Tom should be focusing more on the idea of music as a way to express himself, join in with others, and generally find a place in the world - and less on sight reading and musical theory.

A Musical Triumph - A Band Camp That Worked

Today, Tom (age 12) played his clarinet in a concert that marked the end of a two-week "band camp" program - and when it was over he came up to me with a beaming smile, saw my face, and said "You're thrilled!" I was.

The camp program, which included as many high school aged "staff members" as it did "campers," was mainly geared to middle school and high school kids with a serious interest in music. Out of about 30 kids, only two were younger than Tom - and most were much older. So far as I know, Tom was the only camper with "special needs," and the camp was in no way therapeutic: it was three hours a day of solid, intensive, challenging music instruction.

At the end, these kids were playing far above the usual junior high and high school level of performance. The pieces were truly challenging: "Take Five," "The Barber of Seville," "Phantom of the Opera," and so on. Tom is a solid clarinet player with some experience playing in bands - but he's never performed on this level.

What made this program work for Tom?

The bottom line for success wasn't knowledge of autism, specialized instruction or expensive aides. Instead it was, very simply, good teaching - and a knowledge of what makes kids tick.
George, the band leader in charge of the program, knew of Tom's autism. Joe, the woodwind instructor, learned about Tom's diagnosis on day one. Between the two of them, here are the simple, low-tech, highly effective steps they took to make the experience successful for Tom:

1. 
   
   
   Transposing the actual sheet music so that it reflected a 6th grade level of musical knowledge (clarinetists don't seem to play the upper register until they're older than Tom is)


2. 
   
   Spending a little one-on-one time with Tom to be sure he was truly reading and following the music.


3. 
   
   Seating Tom front and center in front of the conductor, and from time to time recalling his attention by saying his name.


4. 
   
   Occasionally seating a high schooler next to Tom to be sure he was following the more difficult music (apparently he was playing the flute part by ear instead of reading the clarinet part!)


5. 
   
   Providing regular high fives and encouragement (something all the students received throughout the two weeks)


6. 
   
   Focusing on the music rather than on acquisition of "appropriate social skills."

Both my husband Peter and I found ourselves thinking "If only the school district had put accommodations like this in place, we may never have needed to start home schooling!" But they didn't. And we did.

Parents and teachers may disagree with me, but I have a theory about why Tom has done so well in the last year with community inclusion.

This year, we placed him in typical small-group programs - including music, bowling, tennis, gym, and so forth - with instructors who had no training at all in working with kids with autism. But those instructors - Henry, George, Scott, Mike, Steve - were all men. Men teach differently from women: in general they're more focused on skills and outcomes than on process, more concrete in their directions, and less likely to worry about whether members of a group are sharing thoughts and feelings. For Tom, all these elements seem to be plusses.

Up until this year, Tom had never worked with men - mainly because there are so few males in educational or therapeutic roles, and everything he did involved teachers and therapists.

Every one of the men Tom has worked with this year has an agenda - but none of those agendas has anything to do with social skills, behavioral therapy or even making friends. Their agenda is focused on building skills and having fun. And Tom can do both. In fact, he does a terrific job at bowling, swimming, tennis, music and much more: his challenge is not the activity but social communication.

I'm not suggesting that Tom doesn't need help with social communication. And I'm certainly not suggesting that he will never again work with women (in fact, he will be working with a terrific female math tutor and a spectacular female speech therapist in the fall).

But I've got to say that community programs run by men and focused on real, meaningful outcomes have made a huge difference in our lives. And what really delights me is knowing that all of these activities - music, sports, hiking, birding, and more - can be a part of Tom's life for as long as he lives.

Aut-2B-Home
Power By Ringsurf

Why Great Teachers Are... Great!

Aut-2B-Home
Power By Ringsurf

Summer on Cape Cod. You really can't beat it! So far, it's been a great experience for us, and for Tom.

We started out with a week of YMCA daycamp for both Tom and his sister, and for the first time we dropped off and picked up with no special support provided for him. Two things made this easier: first, we were able to place him in the same group as Sara - and though he was the youngest in the group, it was a good match. Sara could help him as needed (not too often, really), and the expectations were slightly lower. Second, the YMCA staff already knew Tom from homeschool gym, and knew just what to expect - and the same staff worked in the camp as worked in the homeschool gym program.

After Y camp, we had a few weeks of mellowness (beaching, trying out a tandem bike - great for him, less great for me - and general Cape Cod exploring).

Tom's 12th birthday went adequately... we invited the boys from down the street; the cake and pizza went fine, but then Tom disappeared quietly into his room and we couldn't get him to join in the festivities for love nor money. Still, he got his "shopping spree" (with birthday money), which is always a great hit!

And THEN - Tom started in on his Sounds of Summer music camp. This is a two-week morning program offered at the local private school and run by the head of education for the Cape Cod Symphony. Most of the kids are older than Tom - he's 12, but some of them are high schoolers. We talked at some length with George, the camp director, and he had seemed to have no qualms about including an autistic clarinetist.

On the first day, it turned out that the instructor who was working with the woodwinds had NOT been informed of Tom's autism - but he was more than willing to talk with us at length about his needs. On the second day, Tom seemed to do much better, especially since George had kindly revised Tom's sheet music to the range that he's used to playing (12 year olds aren't taught the upper register on the clarinet!). On the third day, George was much more worried about the junior counselors and getting the trombones and timpani focused than he was about Tom - who was doing just great!

Today, I figured out just why he's doing so well.

With no fanfare whatever, George placed Tom front and center, in front of the conductor. When he's about to start the band playing, he makes sure Tom is paying attention - and when he isn't, he just says "Tommy!" and Tom is focused. When a part is especially tough, he has one of the junior counselors sit beside Tom, and help him follow the clarinet part (some of these pieces are tough even for the high schoolers!). As a result of all this, Tom is absolutely comfortable with camp, with the musical challenge, AND with the group - and his social anxiety seems to have lifted significantly. He doesn't chat with the older kids, but he's okay with asking for help, asking questions, smiling... Tomorrow is the Big Concert, and we're bringing presents.

Bear in mind that George has never been trained in special needs. He's just a very, very good teacher.

Sort of like the tennis teacher who's working with Tom now, 1:1, at the local tennis center. Scott says he likes working with all kinds of kids, and Tom is no exception The tennis was Tom's idea, so he's engaged and eager to play - and Scott says he's doing great. You can see why: he actually puts his hands on Tom's shoulders to show him where and how to stand and swing; he started off very easily so Tom could be successful. Now, Tommy is actually hitting the ball quite well; I'm hoping he'll be ready for a group experience in the fall.

This is what I'd hoped homeschool would be about: finding the right opportunities for inclusion, so that Tom could succeed in areas that had the potential to be important throughout his life. So far, so good.

Synethesia: Strange Confluence of Sight, Sound, and Mind

This is just so freaky and amazing, I have to share it.

After reading a few lines in a book about something called synethesia, I got interested. Apparently, quite a few people have an odd brain wiring such that letters, numbers, and/or musical notes are linked with colors. When they see a letter or number, and/or hear a musical note, they "see" a particular color in their minds.

Apparently, this odd quality is particularly common among people with autism.

On a whim, I asked Tom if he sees colors when he plays notes on the piano. Oh, yes, he said, he does!

C=red
D=orange
E=yellow
F=green
G=blue
A="pink"
B=violet

I drew a series of dots in the colors he gave me, and aked him to play them on the piano. He played Frere Jacques flawlessly.

I looked up synethesia, and found that there's a close link between synesthesia relative to music - and perfect pitch.

It wasn't until today that I realized something else: the series of colors Tommy gave me is consistent with the achronym ROY G BIV. For anyone who's studied optics or astronomy, that acronym will be familiar: it's the colors of the optical spectrum, the order they appear in a prism, or in a rainbow. The only "off" color was pink - and that's because the correct color is "indigo."

Tommy has never heard the word "indigo."

Does anyone know anything more about this amazing collection of coincidences? I've emailed a couple of researchers in the field of synesthesia, but nothing so far!