I'm currently sitting in my Boston hotel room, looking out at my view of the Prudential building, and trying to wrap my head around everything I took in today at the Council for Exceptional Children conference in Boston. I often leave conferences with a long list of topics I want to blog about, and sometimes never find time to get to those posts down. Hopefully there will be many more posts about the conference to come.
This afternoon I sat in a dark, windowless auditorium watching the rehearsal for the CEC's Yes, I Can Awards. Despite the dreary setting, I found myself moved to tears numerous times by the unbelievable successes these young adults have had. I had read many of their applications, but even so I was not prepared to be so moved by meeting them and their families in person.
The Yes, I Can Awards go to students with disabilities who have made remarkable gains in a given area, whether it is academics, community involvement, self-advocacy, arts, or technology. I've been on this committee for a few years, and am thrilled to finally be able to make it to the conference to watch the awards be announced in person. It turns out that reading their applications just did not do the students justice. I hope my own girls will be as motivated, poised, and confident when they are in high school and college as these students are. Despite everything else going on in their lives, these high school and college students have found a way to not only overcome their disabilities, but also to organize volunteer opportunities, start community groups, and raise money.
Perhaps what moved me the most was talking with their parents. It was like talking to any parent of a high school student. These parents were full of pride as they shared their child's accomplishments, and their child's hopes for the future. Yet these parents have an additional reason to be proud - their children are not just making remarkable gains in school or their community, but they fought long and hard to overcome their disabilities. My eyes teared up as I heard parents share how some of the children were in self-contained classes with teachers and administrators who told them they would never go to college or do anything with their life. Yet here they were - heading off to college, making remarkable grades, participating in sports and art, and breaking through the low expectations of those around them.
I found myself thinking about all of the young children I work with, whose parents are scared of the future, and unsure of what steps to take to help their child be successful. I wish I could take each of the parents I work with and introduce them to the parents of the Yes, I Can award recipients. The hard work, dedication, and relentless advocacy for the best education for their child worked. Two of the students on stage were far more poised and confident than I would have been on stage, despite having a disability that impacts their social interactions with others. It was incredible to see them shine with confidence up there.
If you are here at the convention, I guarantee you should not miss tomorrow morning's award ceremony.
What is Play Based Tutoring?
This was originally posted (with fun, beautiful pictures) on my blog.
The best way to describe what I do in my private business is "play-based tutoring". I hesitate to use the word tutoring because that conjures images of sitting in a library going over homework problems, and that's far from what we're doing. But it's also the best word I have right now to label my work.
Why is play-based tutoring important?
So many of the essential skills children need for school can be taught in isolation, through a drill and skill method. I've done this with many children, and I know it's effective for teaching that isolated skill. Yet children then learn that skill in isolation, and while they are learning that skill they are not working on any other essential developmental milestone. Those moments of learning often feel like work to the child, and create a gap between fun and school.
Play-based learning allows children to learn a skill within the context of a broader context. This encourages meaningful generalization of the skill, as the child can understand where it fits in meaningfully within the broader context.
Play-based learning also encourages the development of the whole child. Essential skills like motor planning and visual-spatial thinking are embedded into the sessions. Those Facebook posts from Occupational Therapists about why our kids can't sit still? Play-based tutoring addresses that problem by teaching through problem solving and exploring.
The concepts behind Play-Based Tutoring isn't new. Much of my work is based off of Stanley Greenspan's DIR Floortime model. I'm currently taking classes on this model and have become a bit obsessed. Whenever I use the methods I see such great results. I'm becoming a convert to how essential motor planning along with the development of strong visual-spatial thinking is to our children's process. So many difficulties can be addressed if we encourage more movement, play, and problem solving.
The Process:
In this work, I talk with parents about where their child's development is, and what skills they'd like their child to develop. One aspect about my work that is different than work in schools is building the partnership and reliance on the parents. In schools we teachers are often are the experts, and the parents tend to play an outside role. In my work, the parents are the expert on their child. They know their child better than anyone else.
Once the parent and I have set goals for the child, I start getting creative. How can I build on the child's interests and strengths to move up the child's development and foster new skills? The goals could be anything from maintaining joint attention and engaging in two-way communication, to increasing sight words and reading strategies, or developing skills to regulate emotions.
For many of my clients I use book kits. I take one book and through the book develop fun activities that encourage the child's new skills. We use physical objects like plastic animals or toy cars to act out the story, play additional games and sing songs that correspond with the story. Everything is connected and highly engaging, and while it looks like play, it is specifically designed to work on the child's targeted skills.
For other children, I've taken other interests and worked to intertwine those interests with what we'd like them to learn. Academic skills are embedded into fun, engaging activities like building with legos, dominoes, playing games, or making origami creations. Legos are great for learning math concepts, and I've written simple books that give the directions for building with legos or folding an origami creation.
I'm finding it hard to fully describe what I do, and the importance of it, but I often leave clients houses excited about their development, and I find myself constantly thinking about how to incorporate more play to further engage them and increase their abilities. I love what I do, and I love helping parents see easy ways to incorporate meaningful play into their daily lives.
Go Baby Go!
On Saturday I had the privilege of spending the day at Marymount University, watching teams of volunteers put together cars for kids with disabilities. The day was like nothing else I've ever experienced before.
Just on the surface, this is an incredible initiative. Take those battery powered cars kids ride around in, adapt them so they can be operated by a simple push button, and then figure out how to best adapt the car so that a child with disabilities can safely sit in it and operate it independently.
By giving a child with a physical disability a motorized car, the team is giving them the independence to move themselves around without relying on someone else. For many of the kids this is the first time they have the power to run away from their parents. Suddenly their world is going to look different as they realize that they can move, and turn, and manipulate their environment through their motor planning. And unlike when they are in a motorized wheelchair, the cars are just cool. If you take one of these cars to the neighborhood bike-ride, the kid is immediately going to attract some peers, not because he is different, but because he has something other kids can relate to, or even want. A very cool car.
One of the participant's older four year old brother leaned over to me as he watched his brother's first solo drive and said, "Oh man, now my brother's car is so much cooler than mine." Yeah. Pretty much. I bet that doesn't happen very often.
Watching kids begin to realize that through the push of a button they could zip around the halls of Marymount choked all of us up. The children's unsure expressions quickly changed to smiles as they got farther away from their parents. Others were able to drive around their siblings in a two-seater jeep. I am sure the typical pattern in their households is for them to be depending on their siblings for access to toys, food, or play. The change in play-power brought many big smiles, both to the drivers of the cars, and their sibling passengers.
Beyond just how amazing this was on the surface, I was fascinated by the process. There is a lot we could learn from how the day went down. This is creativity and teamwork at its best.
The morning started in a room full of cars, where volunteer teams were given a car, a tool kit, an iPad with instructions, and told to go at it. After the car was able to be drive through simply pushing the button, a team of physical therapists joined each car and started looking at the child's physical needs to determine how to fit the car to the child.
From there, the creativity started. Everyone had one task to achieve, and they could use any available material to make it happen. One wall of the "garage" was lined with a variety of PVC pipe, harnesses, pool noodles, foam, foam kick boards, decorations, and different seating options.
Every team had the task of looking at the child's needs and then using what was in the room, in any way possible, to make the car work for the kid. There was no choice but to problem solve until it was perfect. The car had to work for the child, no matter what. People stood over the cars, brainstorming, trying different things, re-purposing anything around, stripping down seats, cutting PVC pipe, trashing ideas that didn't work, and trying again.
There could not be any ego on any team so there just wasn't. It was not an option. There wasn't a "this is the best we could do so now we're going home." This wasn't about pleasing a boss or winning a contest. It was about the simple goal of safely making a child mobile.
Every car ended up being drastically different. I wish I'd had the opportunity to take pictures of each car, but I am sure the various news crews that were there captured them. The big buttons were placed anywhere in the car the child needed it to be placed, whether that was up at the child's head or by the child's hands. PVC pipe and pool noodles created structures to help a child sit safely in the car, and kick boards went behind seats to provide back support.
The event took over the entire second floor of Marymount's Arlington campus, and included a playroom for kids to hang out, a room with therapy dogs, quiet, calm rooms where kids could go to get away from the noise, food, and of course the "garage" where the magic was happening.
I hope that today, the day after, there are twelve happy kids spending the afternoon zipping around their driveways, exploring what freedom and play can feel like. I hope there are shared laughs, children driving a little too fast, sibling fights over who gets to use the car, and just pure exhaustion from the new activities.
Olympics, Belly Buttons, and Life Lessons
Since the start of the Olympics, my daughters have become obsessed with beach volleyball. Mostly, because they think it is hysterical that they are "in their underwear" as my four year old said. "Nobody wants to see their belly buttons, right Mommy?" she asked the first time she saw them in the sand.
They giggle hysterically while watching it. Last night, after getting out of the bath and before getting into pajamas, my two year old started acting like she was hitting a volley ball. It's the new thing to do while naked, apparently.
Asides from giggling about belly buttons, my girls also noticed something else about the players. "Mommy! Look!" my four year old exclaimed in complete awe, "She fell down IN THE SAND and she got right back up! She didn't even cry!"
"Yeah," my two year old agreed. "No crying!"
It always surprises me the difference in how children view the world. I honestly hadn't even registered the fall.
The NBC newscasters can tell us all about the athletes strict training regimens, the obstacles and injuries they've overcome, and their extreme perseverance, but the visual image that stuck with my kids is the athlete falling down and getting right back into the game. They zone out during the inspirational cut aways, but are somehow inspired by falling athelets. It makes sense, I suppose. Early morning gym workouts mean nothing to them. But falling in the sand? Total connection there.
Our Olympic viewing has now become a constant stream of "She fell!" "He fell!" I SEE A BELLY BUTTON!" "She fell!"
Then they act it out. One of them will fall down (laughing hysterically) and will get right back up. "I"m up! I'm ready to play!" she'll say.
"I SEE YOUR BELLY BUTTON!" the other one will scream.
My facebook feed is filled with videos of how the athletes overcame obstacles and ways they can inspire us in our own lives. As adults we're in awe of these athletes and are constantly looking for ways we can copy their dedication and determination. It makes sense our kids would want to do the same. We just need to bring the conversation to their level.
While it's so important to talk with our kids about how hard these athletes worked and the grit and perseverance it took to get them to the Olympics, that is still a fairly intangible concept for our little ones. But we can point out in-the-moment perseverance that will give our kids a visual image of these grand concepts we want them to demonstrate themselves.
While watching swimming we've talked a lot about how tired they must be. "OH MY GOODNESS! They are turning at the wall again!! They must be so tired! But they aren't stopping! Wow!!"
We've paused the DVR after the swimmers shake hands with each other at the end and talked about how they don't even know each other but they are still shaking hands and saying good job.
We've talked about how those gymnasts are nervous just standing their, waiting for their turn. We look at their faces and talk about how we can tell how nervous they are. It must feel like the first day of school for them. It's OK to be nervous. Even Olympians are nervous.
We talk about how much fun they are having too. They are tired, nervous, and keep falling down, but they are still having fun! Wow! With all those feelings they are still smiling and laughing. Falling down didn't make the fun go away. Being nervous didn't mean everything needed to end. They kept going and now they are so happy.
Hopefully, even after the games are over we'll be able to refer back to these conversations when things come up in our own lives. Saying "You have to work hard at gymnastic class now so you can be like Simone!" probably won't have much of an impact on my kids, but saying, "I know you are nervous, just like Simone looked. What did she do next? She took a deep breath and then tried her best. Think you can try that? Let's do it!"
I read that Michael Phelps' mother had a visual cue she would give him when he was having trouble with sportsmanship as a child. For older kids that would be a great tidbit to share and apply in the moment.
Sometimes I worry that these blog posts are what my kids will one day bring to their therapists to say "She even wrote publicly about how she tortured us. We couldn't even enjoy the Olympics!" So, daughters 20 years years from now- think about the money I'm saving you. Just printing this out and giving it to your therapist will save so much time in you having to explain it. Right?
Creating Engaging Read Alouds
I offer sensory-storytimes at the local libraries. Although many of these storytimes are similar to more traditional storytimes, they are specifically designed to engage kids that may not be able to sit still in a large group and listen to a story silently.
One way to make these story times meet the needs of these kids is in reading books that encourage a high level of interaction. We don't want to ask a child to sit perfectly still and listen to a book. Instead, we are asking them to move, sing, and dance with a book in a (somewhat) organized manner.
Book choice is critical. Some of my absolute favorite books just can't be used here because there are too many words on the page, too many detailed drawings in the pictures, and too deep of a storyline. Here are some guidelines I use when I'm thinking about book choice.
Repeated Lines of Text
The key concept I look at in choosing a book is looking for repeated lines of text or a repeated pattern. Does the book have a few lines that the children can memorize and "read" along with me? This is great for non-verbal students as well. By giving them an egg shaker or a maraca, they can actively participate with the book. Before you read, establish a cue with your group so they will know when to chime in. It can be done by pointing at them, pointing at the letters, or saying "Ready?"
The repeated lines get the kids involved in the book, but also encourage them to learn concepts of print. As children begin to learn that print contains meaning they can point to the repeated line on the page as you read it aloud. As they become more aware of print they can go from pointing from to each line on the page to pointing to each individual word. When they read the story to themselves they can touch the line and repeat the memorized portion.
Some of my favorite books with repeated lines are:
Click, Clack, Moo (and anything in the Click, Clack series)
I Ain't Gonna Paint No More
Farmyard Beat
Dancing Feet
Good Night Gorilla
Blue Hat, Green Hat
What Shall we do with the Boo Hoo Baby?
Pete the Cat
Brown Bear, Brown Bear is perfect for this in many ways, but I guarantee you that after you've taught for 5 years you'll never want to look at any brown bear again. Or talk about what it sees. Ever.
Opportunities to Be Silly
Books that just beg you to use silly voices when you read aloud, or that provide opportunities for the kids to act out the parts are perfect for engaging readers who have difficulty sitting still. When you read the Elephant and Piggy books, for instance, it is hard not to make the different voices for Gerald and Piggy. And can you read the Pigeon books without sounding whinny or angry like the Pigeon? These books are highly engaging to your readers because they love being able to watch an adult be silly.
My favorite be silly books:
The Pigeon books by Mo Willems
Elephant and Piggy by Mo Willems
Rhyming Dust Bunnies (Or anything by Jan Thomas)
Opportunities to Act
Books that give kids a chance to act out the storyline are another great way to engage the wiggly listeners. The trick here is usually to do something that keeps them active but sitting down, so that they aren't getting up and wondering around the room. Many books lend themselves to this once you start looking for it. Is there a horn to beep? A door to knock on? Clothes to put on? Hands to wash? Getting a whole group to engage in the simple actions of the book can go a long way in keeping the kids engaged.
Some good Act-It-Out books:
5 Little Monkeys (in the beginning of the book they put on their pajamas, brush their teeth, and get ready for bed.)
Alice the Fairy
Good Night, Gorilla
Little Blue Truck
The Napping House
Caps for Sale
Knuffle Bunny
The Snowy Day
Rhythm
I am NOT a rhythmic person, but I do appreciate a good rhythmic book. Books that can be read like a chant are great at engaging kids and keeping their interest. This is particularly helpful when reading one on one with a squirmy toddler. If you bounce them on your lap to the beat of the book you will keep them engaged with the language. Match the bouncing to the lines of text so that the movement connects the movement with the language. Kids can also be engaged by giving them egg shakers (if you can read loudly over the noise) or even scarves they can wave while you read.
Great Rhythmic Books:
Dancing Feet
Farmyard Beat
Five Little Monkeys
Little Blue Truck
Shiver Me Letters
Chicka-Chicka-Boom-Boom
Pete the Cat
The Llama Llama series
Opportunities to Discuss Emotions
As adult readers we know that emotions are often what drives the storyline in any good novel. Legal thrillers, spy adventures, or chick lit are all based around someone's jealousy, greed, or sadness. Kid books are the same and the more we discuss the character's emotions in the books the more we can connect the children to the plot line. Additionally, drawing kid's attention to the characters' emotions helps them connect with the story (he's angry and I can think of a time when I was angry too!) and gives another great opportunity for acting out the story. I love asking kids to make a mean face, scary face, or happy face.
Books that make discussing emotions easy:
The Pigeon books (I love talking about how angry he gets.)
Alice the Fairy
I Ain't Gonna Paint No More (That is one angry mom!)
Rhyming Dust Bunnies (They go from happy to scared)
The Paper Bag Princess
Katie and the Kittens
Peter's Chair
The Llama Llama Series
If you are interested in additional activities that go along with these books, you can sign up for my free weekly newsletter. I take one book a month and provide a new activity for each week that corresponds with the book. Click here to sign up!
Mommy Fears and Gaining Insight
Visit Welcome to Organized Chaos to see more blog entries.
I stood in the middle of the perfect preschool classroom and listened to the director talk about the importance of play, the small group, differentiated instruction the children receive, and the deliberate room set up to maximize child engagement. It was perfect. Except that three days a week the day is conducted in Spanish.
The director assured me that I would be amazed at my child's progress and how quickly she would pick up the language. She told me how sensitive the teachers are and how they would be in-tune to my daughter's comfort level. I nodded along because I've given the exact speech many times to parents - although always through the use of an interpreter. I know from my own first hand experience how quickly children pick up another language. It's mind blowing to watch young children adapt and learn English. I tell parents all the time that they have given their child the gift of knowing two languages.
But my own daughter?
It's stunning to be on the other side and realize just what those parents are feeling. I always knew the parents were worried but this isn't an emotion that can be described through one word. It is gnawing feeling deep in the gut, along with a panicked and desperate need to protect my child. I cannot imagine dropping my baby off to a place where they are not speaking English. To just walk away and leave her there to figure out what they are saying, desperately hoping she will know enough to follow the rules and make friends.*
I am in awe of the parents of the children I teach. They have no choice but to send their child off every day to an English speaking school. And we aren't a bilingual program designed to nurture your child's dual language development. We are pretty much straight English and if the child is lucky people nearby may know some of the child's language in order to communicate in those first few days.
We talk about a silent period students go through when they first enter English speaking schools. I know enough of this to accept it and chalk it up as normal. But to ask my own child to go through a silent period in school? Nothing could possibly seem more wrong. When it is my daughter it does not seem normal, it seems cruel. And my husband and I have a choice. We can choose this for our daughter (and we might, for a variety of reasons. She loves the idea and is currently obsessed with Spanish although she knows about three words. I can recognize my fears come from the same place as when I gasp whenever she eats a whole grape or is on an extra tall playground)
Standing there inside my almost-dream preschool classroom I was flooded with mommy-anxiety mixed with awe for the parents I work with. In many cases they gave up the comfort and familiarity of their former lives to come to America and to ask their children to go to school in a place where they won't understand the language. Sending their child off to a school where they do not speak the language is a better situation than where they came from. My nervousness about Spanish three days a week for a year seems minuscule compared to the life decisions they have already faced.
I probably will continue to reassure parents of how quickly their child will pick up English and how much they will love school, yet it will never again be a rehearsed speech that I give without thinking.
*I don't write this to sound anti-bilingual education. Cognitively I realize that we would be giving my daughter a gift. In many ways this is the perfect situation and we are considering it. I am writing this to recognize how my own internal mommy-fears must also be what other parents feel, yet on a broader scale.