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Stories they help us write

By Sara Finegan

I’ve written a great deal about the specific interventions I use to help kids learn how to make meaning from text.  Because kids with autism often do not hold on to a story while they read, much of what we must do to support comprehension involves teaching them about how to think while they read.

jigsaw_green_10The other part of the equation that creates comprehension is, of course, the concept of purpose and engagement in the text.  Kids who don’t want to read are not going to understand what they read.  Kids who do not read for a purpose aren’t going to get much out of it.

To that end, I’ve posted about finding books of interest for readers with autism and, more recently, my experiences writing serial stories about my students for them to read.  There’s another technique that works well with younger or more immature readers, and that is writing stories for the kids to complete.

I got the idea when I happened to buy a book about one of my favorite worlds, Pern (author Anne McCaffrey writes sci-fi, which I don’t ordinarily like, but this series has to do with dragons, and I was hooked).  I thought the book was going to be a bunch of short stories about Pern, and it was, but there was a catch.  It was one of those “choose your ending” stories, which I hate, hate, hate.  

There are many such books available for kids, and many children love them.  Readers with autism do not tend to enjoy them, for the simple reason that they don’t feel comfortable using their imaginations in that way.  They are perfectly prepared to enter a world of fantasy, where things exist that don’t exist in the real world; they just aren’t willing to write their own endings. 

I understand that completely.  It occurred, to me, however, that if my readers with autism did like that kind of book, it would be a really great way to get them engaged in a text.  

Several weeks later, I woke up in the middle of the night thinking about fill-in-the-blank worksheets.  (I hate it, because when I wake up like that with an idea, I’m too sleepy to flail around looking for a pen to write it down with, even if a shred of paper did exist on my bedside table.)   I had no idea why, but as I let my mind drift, the pick-your-own-ending books straggled around the edges of my thoughts.

 In the morning, the idea seemed to gel in my caffeine-loaded brain, and I began to work on a story for one of my students who had trouble staying with a narrative.  His mind would start to wander and he’d start fake-reading about a paragraph into any text.  What I discovered in my new strategy was a way to keep him hooked to the text and striving for meaning all the way through. 

I call this particular intervention the “stories we write together,” even though I do most of the writing and all the reader has to do is fill in a word or two here and there.  The idea is to write a story for your reader about a topic that interests him or her.  Hope that it is a topic for which there are photos or clip art on the web, because you need to illustrate it. 

Every few sentences, leave a word blank.  When your reader comes to that blank space, he will be asked to fill it in with a word.  You can write it, or the student can write it. 

What happens when our readers with autism get a high-interest story like this that requires them to be paying attention so that they can add a word or phrase here and there is that they tend to stay with the story, hang on to what’s happening, and enjoy the interaction they have with the text.

lightbulb_dramaticTIP:  I’m sure you could use stories that already exist – just retype them onto a text document, add illustrations, and insert your own blanks where you think the student will be able to add meaningful words or phrases.  Not all of us love making up stories at the drop of a hat. 

If you do decide to write your own, don’t worry about the quality.  For God’s sake, don’t sweat about character development or setting; the point is to create a narrative that intrigues the child, and believe me, children don’t get wound up over glitches or parts that don’t make as much sense as they could if we spent hours writing the plot.

Here’s an example: “Teddy Meets The Incredible Hulk”.  My original had cool illustrations (Google Image is a teacher’s best friend), and you can easily add them to any such stories you write.

You should enjoy this as much as the reader with autism!

The child in the IEP: Can we really see him as described?

By Sara Finegan

I’ve got a new student with autism.  He’s a fourth grader, and he moved here from another state last year.  The IEP he came with was quite specific about his mechanical reading skills (working on long and short vowels, etc) and reported minimal progress toward decoding and phonemic awareness over the previous year. 

jigsaw_blue_12He spent the second half of last year in our lower-grades Special Day Class, and now he’s with me.  I took a look at his IEPs for the past several years, and I must say I’m disappointed. 

Allow me to step up to my soap box for a bit and voice some concerns about the IEP process and how we think about our readers with autism.

I do not know how it is possible for anyone to create an IEP that only addresses one part of the reading process.  If I am going to support a child in reading, there are many things I want to know besides the simple decoding skills he or she has or does not have: I want to know about whether the child

  • enjoys being read to,
  • enjoys looking at books,
  • comprehension levels,
  • questions the child might ask,
  • topics of interest,
  • favorite characters in books, and
  • genres. 

A reader is not simply a person who can read words; a reader is a person who has expectations of text, has preferences in text, and has experience in text.

A kid who cannot decode long “O” and “I” sounds can still delight in having Captain Underpants read to him.  A kid who cannot focus on the written word for more than 15 seconds at a whack can bring me a copy of The Indian in the Cupboard  and ask me to read it to him over and over and over.  A child who doesn’t know that a book starts on the left side and not the right can squeal with delight when we read Frog and Toad books.

We need to know as much about what a child can do as what he cannot do.  Yet.

student_in_classWhen we are working with a child on comprehension in reading, we build on the skills that exist now.  I cannot devise a plan of action unless I know what the child already knows, and what he almost knows.

Think about it:  how much does knowing that I cannot use an electric screwdriver without stripping screws, cannot thread the needle on a sewing machine, cannot keep track of socks, and often fail to keep plastic containers together with their lids really tell you about what it would be like to come to my house for dinner?  Not much, I expect.

Note toParents:

Parents are part of the IEP team, and if the case manager doesn’t include the skills your child already has, you have not only the right but the obligation to make sure it’s added.  It’s as simple as asking whether the case manager could please add a list of the reading/math/writing/whatever skills the child does have to the description of “present levels.”  If your child is present at the IEP, ask him or her to contribute a list of strengths. 

I’ve had it up to here with IEPs that do not accurately describe a child, or which leave enormous blanks in the picture of the child I am teaching.    We’re talking about a person, not a skill-set, and not a file in a drawer.   Anyone who participates in an IEP meeting must consider how the child is portrayed, and if it is as complete a portrayal as possible in the document.  If you are unsure, consider whether, if the subject of the IEP was you, people would be able to see you as you are.

Irresistible reading: Stories starring our kids as characters

By Sara Finegan

I’m in the process of writing some social stories for an incoming student of mine who is  a boy with medium-functioning autism, and it got me thinking about the power of stories about the kids who are actually reading them.

(Social Stories are a tool for teaching social skills to children with autism and related disabilities.  They provide an individual with accurate information about those situations that he may find difficult or confusing.  The situation is described in detail and focus is given to a few key points: the important social cues, the events and reactions the individual might expect to occur in the situation, the actions and reactions that might be expected of him, and why.  The goal of the story is to increase the individual’s understanding of, make him more comfortable in, and possibly suggest some appropriate responses for the situation in question.  From http://www.polyxo.com/.)

Many of my students on the autism spectrum have been kids who really, really disliked reading, and avoided it whenever possible.  This was partly because they really struggled with the decoding process, and partly because they really struggled with comprehension, and, in some cases, partly because they  struggled with focus issues.

Many years back, I hit on a sure-fire way to get kids like that more engaged in reading.  I started to write serial stories about kids in my class.  

Alien_Space_Alien_151I think the first one I wrote was aboutThe Day Aliens Kidnapped Eddie and Joey.”  It was set at our school, and all of the students in my class, plus my aide and our principal were characters. As I recall, the narrative began when, while waiting for the school bus, Eddie and Joey were suddenly snatched up by an alien spaceship.  Alien_Space_Alien_-_WritingThe aliens were fascinated by homework, and tried to conduct a cross-examination of Eddie and Joey about their assignments.  In the meantime, the rest of us were trying to figure out how to save them. 

Each of my students had a role in devising a brilliant strategy to get Eddie and Joey back.  Our principal, who happened to have a huge supply of hot air balloons in the library storage room, provided both inspiration and logistical support. 

Every few days, I’d write another installment of the story, and the kids would gather together in pairs to read and respond. Alien_Space_Alien_043 The excitement was palpable.  Students began to submit ideas for scenes, and suggestions as to what we could do with the aliens once we reached their space ship (feed them cupcakes….teach them to moonwalk….).  Kids in other classes began to hear about the story and wanted copies.  It became quite a cool thing to be in my class that month.

Long story short, even kids who hated, hated, hated to sit down with a book waited anxiously for each new installment about Eddie, Joey, and the aliens.  They were perfectly willing to read and re-read the story to answer comprehension questions, identify different uses of language (simile, metaphor, hyperbole, dialogue), etc. 

BobbyBobby, who had a lot of difficulty connecting to text in general, began to ask a lot of questions about the story:  Why did the aliens pick San Diego?  What if Eddie and Joey get thirsty?  Why can’t the principal just call the aliens?  Where is Superman when we need him?  (See my other posts about hyperlexia, anaphoric cuing and helping Bobby read.)

Then, Bobby started a running commentary:  Eddie and Joey should be careful on the spaceship, because some aliens have slimy skin; Mrs. Finegan should stop singing while she makes helmets for the kids who are going up in the hot air balloon, because it might scare them (!); we should probably eat lunch before we launch the rescue mission, because there’s no food in space.

Alien_purple_invaderI managed to stretch out the alien story for about 6 weeks.  When we finally finished, the kids continued to read independently for longer periods of time; their stamina had increased by between 4 and 10 minutes.   They were more willing to work their way through stories at their instructional reading level, and their interest in setting and characters improved.

Since then, I’ve tried to write short stories featuring my students or, several times a year, another longer tale in installments. 

For readers with autism, being a part of the story is a terrific introduction to the concept of “jumping into” a book.

Reader with autism and figurative language, part 1

By Sara Finegan

My class is in the throes of what our District  calls a “Unit of Inquiry,” which essentially is a unit of literature study.  Someone has devoted a great deal of time to developing entire courses of study for up to six units per year for each grade level.  The Units of Inquiry focus on different genres of writing and different plot elements, among other things. 

 I’m not  utterly wild about them as a whole, because I think that even for children without learning disabilities, they are pretty advanced and don’t actually match kids’ developmental stages. 

Leo Tolstoy

Leo Tolstoy

When I went to school, (and I attended a very good public school in a University town) we didn’t even think about things like “theme” until maybe the 8th grade.   A precocious reader, I was reading at the college level in the 8th grade, and I don’t think I would have been able to describe in detail the motivations of the characters as they apply to the author’s theme in most of the texts I made my way through.

 So here we are, in Unit 2 of the fifth grade curriculum, talking about theme, which is an amorphous sort of thing if you are in the fifth grade and a really incomprehensible thing if you are a concrete thinker like a reader with autism.  To top it off, this particular unit is full of figurative language metaphor, simile, hyperbole….I read the unit description and immediately reached for Mylanta.

The text was overflowing with figurative language

 The first story we were supposed to read was a short piece by Sandra Cisneros, who is a brilliant and evocative author (The House on Mango Street, Woman Hollering Creek) whose work is just so amazing I could read it over and over without getting bored.    The thing is, though, that the first piece, entitled “My Name,” wasn’t a story if by “story” you mean a narrative with an actual plot and a beginning, middle and end. 

 It was a reflection, I guess, about the name of the character in the book (Esperanza).  And it is, like most of Cisneros’s writing, riddled, frothing, overflowing with figurative language – sometimes multiple similes or metaphors in the same sentence.

 I was not convinced that this would appeal to any reader with autism and pretty sure that my readers with autism were going to be absolutely untouched by the piece. 

sun_happy_sun It must have been the sunny weather that made me refrain from kvetching and take a dive into this unit without floaties.  We started reading “My Name” last Wednesday, slowly, line by line, as a whole group (my class is 15-strong).

 I will be writing more about our experiences in the coming days.  For now, I’ll just say this:  On Thursday, we abandoned all of the other texts in the Unit of Inquiry and decided to focus exclusively on Sandra Cisneros stories. They cannot get enough of her!

And, more to the point, I’m learning a lot about how readers with autism can deal with figurative language and deeper meaning in text.

The Demanding Classroom: No dumbing down for special education

We’ve started another blog to promote rigorous instruction and high standards in the special education classroom– www.thedemandingclassroom.com.

Here’s an excerpt from our first post:

There’s a misconception among many in the field of education about special education.  To many, “learning disabled” means “unable to learn,” or “limited learning capacity.”  The focus is on the “dis” part of “disabled” instead of the ability part.  They ask the wrong questions:  “how smart is he?” rather than “how is he smart?”   

We’re all guilty of this to some extent, and the result is that in more cases than not, the special education classroom is one where the learning is “dumbed down” and expectations are too low to inspire growth.

When this happens, our students become dependent on us for learning and information rather than independent thinkers.  When we lower our expectations because of assumptions about learning capacity or processing strengths, the kids learn not to think hard, think deeply, or use their strengths. 

Parents and teachers who are interested in more than teaching reading are invited to take a look.  We welcome your comments.

Is decoding overrated?

By Sara Finegan

Several people have asked me recently which program I recommend to teach kids the mechanics of reading:  decoding and phonemic awareness.  I’m having a hard time answering. 

jigsaw_red_09My problem isn’t choosing between a variety of programs, or determining which is the most successful at helping kids learn to decode the letters and their sounds. 

My problem is that I’m not convinced that decoding is as important as everyone seems to think it is.    Before you start throwing rocks at me, let me explain. 

If you spend any time at all thinking about how you read, you are undoubtedly going to realize that you actually use your phonemic skills to decode words less than 10% of the time.  Maybe less than 5%.  I did a little survey of myself (it was fun, being both the subject and the observer!) and discovered that in 847 pages, I only had to decode one word. 

How can this be?  Isn’t the foundation of reading the ability to put the letter sounds together to form actual words?

Not…..really.  It may be so at the beginning, but I’m wondering if it isn’t a really limited period of time in the life of an emergent reader. 

 What do readers do, really, at all but the primer stage?

 We recognize words. 

 My theory, and it is untested and will not necessarily be particularly popular among reading researchers, is that sight words are more important than decoding skills.  I think that good readers are people who recognize words when they see them.  I think that the difference between any level of reading in elementary school through middle school has more to do the expansion of one’s personal bank of sight words than anything else.  The more words we can recognize and know, the more words we can read.

 Don’t get me wrong:  I still spend time with my students on basic phonemic skills.  I don’t allow people to leave my class without knowing the basics, more or less.  But we spend a lot more time on word recognition, which we work on in a variety of ways.  Much of what we do is outlined in the Reading Category on our other blog, The Demanding Classroom (www.thedemandingclassroom.com).

school Over the years, I’ve had numerous students enter my classroom in the fourth grade and up who still do not know their vowel sounds and blends, and are not able to decode any words that have more than one syllable.  These students have been given intensive interventions, either in self-contained classrooms or in pull-out sessions in the Resource Room, but despite at least four years of work, still have not been able to learn basic decoding skills.

Now, my school’s Resource Specialist is a gem among gems, an incredibly talented teacher with endless patience and know-how.   Teachers in the primary level of our self-contained classroom at our school had more training than I  in reading instruction, and a good many more years of experience.  If they couldn’t get a child to competent decoding levels, there  isn’t a lot I can do. 

It has seemed like focusing intensively on the phonemic skills was not working.   I’ve come to the conclusion that in cases such as these, we need to approach the reading from another angle, and the angle that seems to have the most success is addressing word recognition and reading fluency.

In the coming weeks, I’ll try to post some more about what we do, and why.  In the meantime, check out The Demanding Classroom!

When a reader with autism needs to respond to literature…

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.

Hearing the story in your head: The role of expressive reading

By Sara Finegan

If you ask a child with autism to read a story to you, chances are that she or he will read with an almost robotic voice, word for word, with no expression.  Even an accomplished decoder will focus on getting the words right rather than the phrasing. 

old_microphoneGood readers actually “hear” the story in their heads; there’s a voice or a narrator operating in our minds as we read a narrative.   

Our minds identify and process punctuation marks, italics, and other textual clues that tell us where and when to emphasize words and syllables.  Our narrator keeps track of what’s going on in the story so that we can infuse emotion into the dialogue and descriptions.

 This does not seem to happen with most readers with autism.  And when it doesn’t, understanding is crippled.

Read-Aloud is not enough 

 One of the strategies that both general ed and special ed teachers learn early on is to use the read-aloud to foster in our students a love for the written word and an understanding of how reading is supposed to “sound”.  As I commented in another post (“The Problem of the Read-Aloud”), many readers with autism have auditory processing issues and are just not going to be able to hear read-aloud stories and learn from them.

 A couple of activities have worked in my classroom, and they’re fairly easy to implement.  They are the Read Naturally program, and readers theater.  (See separate post on the latter for additional information.)

Read Naturally is an older, but not outdated reading program that addresses reading fluency.  It consists of short, high-interest texts, usually half a page to a page long, with accompanying cassettes.  The tapes are used to introduce a reader to the story and hear the inflection and expression used as it is read aloud.  Kids read the story out loud over and over and over, until they, too, have reached an appropriate level of speed and fluency. 

Tip!Tip:  I tend not to use the tapes as often as other teachers do, because I like to read each story to a student and discuss with them how and when I decide to emphasize certain parts and how I decide where to infuse my reading with emotion.  Then I send him or her off to practice.  A child has to read a story between 10 and 20 times to get the right speed, smoothness, and expression.  I might listen to him or her read the story 2-4 times in between practices, so that I can monitor the inflections.

Progress toward expression comes slowly 

What happens when a reader with autism works this hard at reading a story is that slowly but surely, some emphasis and  inflection begins to occur throughout the reading.  In my experience, a reader with autism who works for several months on Read Naturally, which has texts at every half-grade level from primer on up, gradually develops a “feel” for how text should sound. 

 The texts are short enough that the reader can practice for brief periods, interesting enough that most readers with autism enjoy them, and exciting enough that they can find ways to personalize them with expression.

Reader’s theater

drama_masksThe second instructional strategy that often works to help readers with autism develop their own internal narrator is the use of readers theater.  Put a child in a group of peers with similar reading levels, and give the group a quirky, funny script to read.  They will have fun and try on all sorts of voices, mannerisms, and methods of expression.

I usually introduce the script to the kids and hang out with them as they work their way the first couple of readings.  They often like to switch parts frequently, and that’s just fine, though a reader with autism may wish to stick with the same character – that’s also fine.

Tip:  Once they are all sure about the words and the story line, I like to assign leaders and let them work by themselves for awhile.  Our classroom aide checks in periodically to make sure they’re on task.

What we find is that very quickly, all of the students are experimenting with accents, voices, and inflection of the phrases.  When students experience this out loud, they are far more likely to internalize the knowledge and use it later in their independent reading. 

Hearing the internal narrator

I believe that once a reader with autism hears the internal narrator during independent reading, comprehension naturally improves and expectation that the text will tell a cohesive story increases exponentially.