When a reader with autism needs to respond to literature…

By readers1  

By Sara Finegan

What happens when a reader with autism needs to respond to literature?

My focus in reading comprehension instruction this fall is all about responses to literature, and by this I mean writing in depth about what we read. 

 jigsaw_red_09An essential component to the basic reading response is the way we connect to events, people, or emotions in a story.   When we teach students about connections, and model how we make them as we read, we often focus, in the lower grades, on personal connections.   I often talk about how I can relate to Mrs. Weasley in the Harry Potter books, because I have a bunch of children of my own, worry about them a lot, and have to throw together meals quite often. 

 Being able to make personal connections to characters or events is important, because it is a sign that we are getting into the story.  I often talk to my students about how reading a piece of fiction is an opportunity to try on a character’s life, or experience another world or community.  When we are able to recognize the links between ourselves and others, we on the way to being able to imagine how we would handle a situation in a story, solve a conflict, or respond to events.

Many children with autism are able to make personal connections with just a little push in the form of modeling or direct instruction.  Sometimes, partnering up with another reader helps them work through how it’s done.

But many kids with autism, particularly those who have weak social skills or whose internal lives dominate their daily activities, are simply not able to do so, and I don’t see the point in trying to force the issue.  Some may, at different developmental stages, be able to do so; others won’t.  C’est la vie.

This doesn’t mean that they cannot make connections to text; it just means they aren’t going to readily make personal dragon_4connections to text. 

If  a reader with autism has a particular area of interest or fascination, giving him or her fiction books related to that subject is a great way to build comprehension skills.  If Daniel is really,  really fixated on dragons, there are about 7 different series out there about kids and dragons.    Maybe it’s magic and wizarding – again, many, many series.  Quirky kids?  You’ve got mounds of novels, from Diary of a Wimpy Kid to Encyclopedia Brown to…well, you get the picture.

When kids read books along certain themes, they can demonstrate comprehension and do really well writing responses to literature that draw connections between characters, settings, or conflicts. 

 Give a child books from the series Dragon Slayers Academy, Dragon Keepers, and  Dragon Chronicles.  By the time she or he’s read several, you’ll be able to support, with direct or indirect prompts, conversations about the different attitudes the characters have toward dragons, the different ways dragons are portrayed, different kinds of problems characters have about or with dragons, and plenty of other ideas. 

Teach a child how to write a comparison/contrast paragraph or two, and you’ll be amazed.  (In another post, I’ll show how to teach this type of writing using a formula that anyone can follow, and which works really well with our readers with autism.) 

 I once had a student who only wanted to read Star Wars novels.  We must have had 10 or 15 in the classroom, and Ben was able develop many connections between the worlds and time periods in those novels and our world.  He wrote once about how Jedi school compared to California middle school; he particularly enjoyed writing a description of the difference between WWE and Jedi duels in another reading response.  With just a little support, he was able to relate very well to the stories he so enjoyed in a way that complied with state standards for reading response.

 What we need to do for our readers with autism is to accept and acknowledge that some things are too difficult…right now….and to find alternatives that make sense to both the reader and to us.  Creative thinking leads to success.

Related posts:

  1. Reader with autism and figurative language, part 1
  2. Autism and hyperlexia, part 1: Anaphoric cuing?
  3. Autism and hyperlexia, part 2: Helping Bobby read
  4. Don’t stop advocating for the child with autism!
  5. Intermezzo: Reader’s theater and the reader with autism

2 Comments

  1. Posted March 1, 2011 at 10:20 am | Permalink

    Hello again Sara,
    Here above you state:

    “Teach a child how to write a comparison/contrast paragraph or two, and you’ll be amazed. (In another post, I’ll show how to teach this type of writing using a formula that anyone can follow, and which works really well with our readers with autism.”
    From – http://readerswithautism.com/2009/10/when-a-reader-with-autism-needs-to-respond-to-literature/

    Did you ever write that post??
    Thanks,
    Frances Swanson

  2. avatar UnderINK
    Posted August 9, 2011 at 11:12 am | Permalink

    I had this problem as a child. I have autism spectrum disorder (Aspergers), which was never caught as a child. I realized for myself I had it when an Autism Advocate and a Behavioral Therapist both suggested I struck them very strongly as having those symptoms. I never saw the point of making personal connections to books in school, and while both my comprehension and ability to decode the English language as a child were both exceptional, my ability to connect with what I was reading (regardless of comprehending it) was exceedingly poor. It probably wasn’t even that I ‘couldn’t', it was that I didn’t see the point in trying. It was so silly. I wasn’t any of those characters, why would I pretend to share anything in common with them?

    It wasn’t until Jr. High that a teacher figured out that giving me a book along my special interest line (which by six or seven I had decided was History, with several focus areas related to but not the same, such as Philosophy and war]), it was much easier for me to connect myself to the characters. Several teachers also customized my classes to be independent study, allowing me to read books all day during school (like Crime and Punishment my 7th grade year) and base my grades almost purely off of tests and papers (both of which I exceeded at), leaving homework as much less important to my grade (I could never force myself to sit and ‘do homework’, it was a waste of time when I already knew it all and had no need for practice); it also made me more inclined to not have to do group projects, which I absolutely could not function in, because my compulsive nature barred anybody else from doing any of the work (I would do the entire project and let them write their name on it because I do not care about ‘creative input’ from other members of a ‘team’- I do it best by myself, where I have control of every aspect of it and can go through my rituals of planning its process).

    I think now, in retrospect, that it’s almost silly that to begin with they didn’t catch what it was (they were very hung up back then with diagnosing everybody with ADD or ADHD; I was diagnosed with one of those, and nobody recognized it was a part of a much wider set of symptoms). But hopefully my daughter won’t have that problem if she ends up with the same symptoms. And I guess that is all any of us can do at this point, who were not diagnosed until adulthood, is hope for better for our kids.

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