Friday, May 4, 2012

Words

It would appear that insomnia decided to rear its' ugly head for the past few weeks, and what better way to (hopefully) fight it than writing about something that requires one to think?  


Today's main topic is the importance of words to the kids with special needs.  First off, it's paramount that children are encouraged to use their words (to the best of their ability) rather than just point to what they want or need.  If a child is non-verbal, it is recommended that a system of cue cards is in place to help with communication.  In all honesty, I don't know a lot about cue cards and communication devices, but I'll try to find a guest blogger who could share a little more on the topic.
My thought of the day (or night) is really more about the power of words, and how important it is to teach our students that words have meaning.  Once children are aware of that, they can be better self-advocates, as well as communicators (and yes, I'm including children who are non-verbal, because they will use their words by showing pictures of what they need or want, or will have someone record appropriate phrases on their communication devices).  The story I will use to illustrate this is one of my favorite experiences, because the little girl ended up teaching me a heck of a lot more than I could ever teach her.  


I was visiting my grandmother's parish (a place that I've started visiting again quite recently) on Paskha (Easter) of 2008.  My grandmother has been telling me of a family that had a little one with Down Syndrome.  I was itching to meet this child, but due to living on Long Island and not being able to drive, it wasn't going to happen.  However, once I moved into Manhattan, things became a lot easier.  I could get to Westchester by using public transit.  Ah, the joys of independence, but I digress.  I asked my father confessor about the family in question after the service, and he gladly introduced me.  


I observed Bridget while she was interacting with other children, and it was clear that she was a high-functioning and bright little girl.  Her mother told me of the problems she was having with the school district, and I offered to help advocate, if necessary.  By this time, my grandmother made her way over to us, and gave me a bag of candy to give to the children.  I offered the bag to each child, and allowed him/her to choose something.  When I got to Bridget, I did the exact same thing.  She shook her head and said 'no' very clearly and in a firm voice.  I moved on to her younger sister.  My grandmother was up in arms; how dare I deny poor, little disabled child a piece of chocolate?!  I explained that there was no denial on my part, because I respected her choice of not taking candy.  Bridget needed to understand that words have a meaning, and that when she uses them, people around her will take them seriously and respect her wishes.  If I went ahead and gave her the candy, she would have learned that words are just empty sounds that we make, but don't pay attention to.  While I was busy explaining this, Bridget was looking around, and noticed that something was wrong.  All other children had a treat, and she didn't.  She wasn't too happy about it.  I came over, and asked her again if she wanted some candy.  This time she said 'yes'.  I offered her the bag so that she could choose, only again to be reprimanded by the grandparental unit that I was being cruel and not giving her candy.  I explained again that Bridget has the right to choose what she wants, and if I were to just give her a random candy, I will not be teaching her about the consequences of her actions.  Poor grandma was really out of her element, but she was kind enough to just step back and watch (thank heavens, because this was driving me a little insane).  


The point of this whole scenario is that the child learns that words have meaning, and therefore, bring along certain types of consequences.  This is important not just for communicating, but for self-advocacy as well.  When children get older, it is not always appropriate to have a teacher initiate a certain accommodation, so this means the student needs to do this independently.  For instance, a child with a visual impairment needs to sit closer to the board in order to see what is going on in the front of the room.  A classmate asks if the child needs help finding a seat, and the child says 'no'.  This means that the classmate will not help, and the child is on his/her own.  If in the past the child's words were not taken seriously, he/she may expect that even if he/she answers 'no', the help will be given anyway.  This is not something we want our children to get used to, because in the real world no one is going to fight anyone else's battles.  


I will say that Bridget had the concept down, but on her own terms.  She loved to pay a game, where she would tell whoever was playing with her to 'go away', because most of the time, no one really listened.  She knew what 'go away' meant, because she used the phrase when someone approached her to say 'hello', or give her a hug.  When she tried this with me, she learned that I was actually going to go away and not be near her.  She wasn't happy with that, and ran after me, navigating the crowded set-up of the church's fellowship room like a pro.  Needless to say, she didn't tell me to 'go away' again.  I remember telling her mother that I loved how Bridget was very firm when refusing to give cuddles.  She made it very clear with her voice and body language that she didn't want to be touched.  This is important, because if heaven forbid something happened, she would be able to make her wishes known.  On a side note, when this child did give a cuddle, she was so touching and sincere about it.  She definitely understood the meaning of the phrase 'I love you'.  I was literally moved to tears when she gave me a hug, and said very clearly 'I 'ove you' (this is not a typo, but my attempt at writing the words the way she said them).  It was one the best moments for me, because I saw what unconditional love was.  Bridget didn't judge, or attempt to see what she could get from telling me this.  She just used her words, fully understanding what she was saying.  This was the best example of the power of a spoken word (at least in my book).  


I remember saying after meeting this little girl for the first time that angels did indeed exist, and she was mine on Paskha of '08.  I didn't think that I could touch a person this deeply (or better yet, didn't know if anyone would ever break through my barriers), but this child proved me wrong.  She showed me that there's so much more to teaching than telling a parent about advocacy or that it's important to be present at an IEP (Individualized Education Plan/Program) meeting.  Teaching is about so much more.  It's showing a child what words can do.  It's about giving a child the tools to be an independent person, but most importantly, it's about giving a child a little bit of you to take away after a day of learning.  It's about showing compassion, and not being worried that you'll get nothing in return, because on the contrary, you'll get the love of a child, which is, in my eyes the most precious gift.


On that note, I think I'm ready to crash.  I leave you with a picture of Miss. Bridget, and her engaging and contagious smile.  



The famous 'Bridget Grin'.  She was always so full of joy, and very feisty to boot.

No comments:

Post a Comment