Welcome, new readers from Choice Literacy

We got  a  comment this morning from Sarah who tipped us to the wonderful mention we just received in Brenda Power’s The Big Fresh from Choice Literacy newsletter:

Read Alouds are a vital component of the literacy curriculum, yet many autistic children do not respond well to them.  With autism on the rise, advice on this issue from the Readers with Autism blog couldn’t be more timely:

http://readerswithautism.com/2009/08/the-problem-of-the-read-aloud/

You can subscribe to us here or on Facebook.  Look for a series of new posts on reading and autism coming in October.  As always, if you have specific questions, please post them.

You might also find interesting our sister blog about rigor in the classroom (particularly special education), The Demanding Classroom.com.

Humor and the child with autism

By Richard Finegan

Anyone who spends much time living or working with children with autism will have experienced their quirky senses of humor.  Others may be surprised to discover that a child with a flat affect and monotonous speaking voice can be intentionally funny.  And appreciate humor for humor’s sake.

An example:

Summer school, an art project–students are stenciling each letter of their first names on separate squares of paper, then using colored pencils to ornament each letter.  Stars, squiggles, stripes, polka dots, a beach scene–whatever strikes their fancy.  The squares will be placed on the wall showing each kid’s personalized signature.

Midway through this project, which took part of three days, the teacher had an idea: “You know, we can take the letters and make them look like an animal, like A for Alligator. Then he holds up the letter from his own name that he happens to be working on at the moment…an N.

One, two, three seconds elapse.

“…or Nalligator!” he says. We all laugh, sitting around the table together.

Alejandro (not his real name) sits quietly for perhaps 30 seconds, then smiles and says in a voice louder than normal:

“Nunafish!“  Students, staff, we all crack up.  But Alejandro is on a roll…

“Nooster,” he adds, still grinning, and finally…

“Nabbit!”

Enough said?

* * * * *

Textual clues to emotion will help with inflection

By Richard Finegan

Just a couple of observations about two high school students I have worked with recently:

One writes in short, concrete sentences, almost always in the present tense, even when he’s journaling about what he did yesterday.  Is verb tense, particularly when writing, a common problem for kids on the spectrum?

Both of these students (and one is much nearer the Asperger’s end of the spectrum than the other) are capable of reading aloud with inflection if they KNOW what the emotion of the speaker is supposed to be. If there are textual clues that the speaker is angry or happy, they know how that sounds. I find this interesting since one of my students speaks in a monotone generally and reads routinely in a very soft tone.

Yet if the text says something like:

John was angry. “Give me my backpack!” he demanded–both will add appropriate, louder, inflection when reading John’s words.

To get a student with autism to read with inflection, especially the younger ones, perhaps we need to TELL them what the emotion of the speaker is.  They usually won’t infer this from the situation, even though most of us will.  But they know how an angry person sounds if they know he’s angry.  Or a happy person.  Or a sad person.

The more they recognize the different tones of voice, the easier it will be to infer emotions in daily communication.  Perhaps.

Inference Cuing: What is the most likely reason for that?

By Richard Finegan

It has frequently been observed that children on the autism spectrum  tend to be concrete and literal thinkers who have difficulty with abstract concepts like inferring a character’s unstated motive.  When reading fiction, the concrete thinkers will focus narrowly on the minute physical details and often miss the “big picture.”

Fernando’s red jacket flapped in the wind as he raced on his new bicycle down Maple Street.  Ignoring the stop sign at the end of the block, Fernando ran straight into the side of a passing city bus.  When he woke up he heard a siren and realized he was in the back of an ambulance.

The child with autism should have no difficulty telling you that Fernando’s jacket was red, and his bike was new.  He probably would be able to report that Fernando ran into a bus.

Yet some may not recognize that the person in the ambulance is Fernando, because Fernando’s name is not stated in the last sentence, only the pronoun “he” is used (an example of anaphora).  Children with autism frequently will not connect one sentence to the next, even within paragraphs.

While it may seem to us both obvious and critically important for the reader to recognize that Fernando is injured, the child with autism may make no such connections without coaching.  They do not always think about the ramifications of coats flapping in the wind, bicycles speeding, and stop signs ignored.  The visual image of a child’s body striking the side of a moving bus does not automatically come to them, or necessarily suggest to them an ambulance ride to the hospital, or worse.

Anaphoric cuing (about which there are several articles on this blog) teaches the child to stop when he gets to anaphora and ask himself who or what, or where or when or why questions to focus his attention on the meaning of what he is reading by identifying the referent words.  The reader needs to think about who is waking up in an ambulance, and why.  Was Fernando napping or was he knocked unconscious?

Inferring motive

A character’s motives may be similarly difficult for the child with autism to recognize, even when they seem clear to most readers.

Bob’ s favorite green Boston Celtics hat was missing from his locker!  He looked up and down the hallway and spotted George wearing a green hat!  Bob ran down the hall, shoved George against the wall, and grabbed the hat off his head.  As Bob was walking away, he noticed that the green hat he was holding said Dallas Mavericks.

The child with autism might know that Celtic hats are green, might know Bob’s was missing, might know the hat George was wearing was green, and yet may be stumped by the question:  Why did Bob shove George and take his hat? Since the text does not explicitly say that Bob suspected George of taking his hat, the reader with autism might not make this seemingly obvious inference.

How to infer state of mind, emotion, or motive from a character’s actions is something that must be taught patiently to young readers with autism.  Often the teacher or aide must have to learn how to recognize themselves when they are inferring so they can guide the student to a similar inference.

What is most likely?

When a character is described as frowning and speaking loudly, we may infer “anger” without even being aware we made an inference.

Julia waited on the front porch of Elizabeth’s house for 15 minutes.  When Elizabeth finally came outside, Julia frowned and asked loudly, “Can we go now?”

The concrete thinker, if asked, might surprise us with the number of other possible (if implausible) explanations for speaking loudly while frowning.  They can always come up with fanciful scenarios (“maybe a caterpillar crawled in her ear“) which have no connection whatsoever to the text.  They may need to be prompted to focus their thinking on what is most common and most likely under the circumstances of the story.

  • What are the most common reasons why someone would do that?
  • What is the most likely reason this character is doing that, considering what just happened to her?

Keeping track of details is a strength

When instructing a whole classroom of students, most of which do not have autism, on a long piece of fiction one may discover an advantage that many readers with autism have: they can often keep track of a surprising number of minor characters and minute details, even if they have difficulty connecting them.

A high school student with autism, having studied an abridged version of Romeo and Juliet for several weeks in class, was watching the Zefferelli film and laughed to himself when Romeo’s servant, Balthazar, passes a monk on a donkey while on his way to Mantua to tell Romeo of Juliet’s apparent death. “Friar John” the student said.  Friar John was not named in the version of the play studied.  The name was mentioned once in class weeks before.

I have also observed (to my surprise) that some children with autism are as capable as other kids of learning the meaning of idioms such as “nose to the grindstone” or “sick as a dog” or “hold your horses.”  In fact, they may even recognize the humor in certain idioms, once they learn the meaning, that others more familiar with the terms may overlook.  Drawing an absurd picture to illustrate a witty idiom may be great fun for these children.

Asperger Syndrome rolled into new Autism Spectrum Disorder

By Richard Finegan

The new proposed DSM-V, the Diagnostic Statistical Manual that is the bible for mental health professionals, would eliminate Asperger’s syndrome (first added to DSM-IV in 1994) as a diagnosis separate from autism.  Those now diagnosed with Asperger’s will presumably fall into the milder end of a broadened “Autism Spectrum Disorder.”  Numerous articles about the proposed change are available, including this one from National Public Radio.

The new name for the category, autism spectrum disorder, includes autistic disorder (autism), Asperger’s disorder, childhood disintegrative disorder, and pervasive developmental disorder not otherwise specified. 

For those like me curious about the actual wording of the new proposed section of the DSM-V (and I’ll admit I’m a wonk and want to see these things verbatim, not just interpreted for me by someone who thinks I can’t read well enough to understand it), here it is:  [Bold face and words in brackets I have added]

Autism Spectrum Disorder

Must meet criteria 1, 2, and 3:

 1.  Clinically significant, persistent deficits in social communication and interactions, as manifest by all of the following: 

a.  Marked deficits in nonverbal and verbal communication used for social interaction:

b.  Lack of social reciprocity; [and]

c.  Failure to develop and maintain peer relationships appropriate to developmental level  [and]

2.  Restricted, repetitive patterns of behavior, interests, and activities, as manifested by at least TWO of the following: 

a.  Stereotyped motor or verbal behaviors, or unusual sensory behaviors 

b.  Excessive adherence to routines and ritualized patterns of behavior

c.  Restricted, fixated interests [and]

3.  Symptoms must be present in early childhood (but may not become fully manifest until social demands exceed limited capacities)

http://www.dsm5.org/ProposedRevisions/Pages/proposedrevision.aspx?rid=94

What were they thinking? Teach vocabulary!

By Sara Finegan

There was a time in recent memory when teachers were actively discouraged from teaching vocabulary disconnected from academic subject areas.  Word walls were always subject specific.  Wordlists were always dictated by the text being studied. 

You never taught the words “subtle” or “reckless” or “arrogance” until the particular text the child was reading required it.  As a consequence, word groups, antonyms and synonyms, were learned haphazardly and shallowly, if at all.

The rationale for this was mysterious.  Subject and text specific vocabulary always was and always will be taught as needed.  What children needed was a deeper, richer, broader vocabulary and teachers were discouraged from providing it directly.

Children with autism often (and with hyperlexia, always) recognize  and fluently read words most of their peers stumble over.  But this does not translate into understanding those words.

Those of us attempting to help struggling readers on the spectrum to comprehend what they read in narrative, in text, are limited by the breadth of the child’s working vocabulary.  Anything we can do to expand that working vocabulary pushes us closer to a grade-appropriate level of reading comprehension.

Both expressive and receptive language difficulties are made worse when the child has a limited bank of words with which they are familiar.  To help address this very issue, I use what I call “sorting cards” which I finds can be employed to integrate not only subject-area vocabulary but also word lists (adjectives, adverbs, active verbs) used for descriptive writing.

Recently, I’ve begun using my “smart board”…yes, in these difficult times, when I may be taking a pay cut, I still have cutting-edge touch-screen technology in my classroom, thanks to a bond issue.  But where was I? 

Oh yes…I use my Promethean smart board to let kids move words around on the board, grouping them into synonyms and antonyms.  In small groups they talk about them, match them, rearrange them, and use them while having fun at the same time.

Whatever we need to do to expand vocabulary is also promoting comprehension as well as expressive and receptive language.  Not just for our kids with autism but for all the children in our classrooms.

But then we already knew Sara was edgy…

We Teach We Learn (www.weteachwelearn.org) hosts a monthly blog carnival they call “The Edge of Education.”  We submitted Sara’s post Say what? Asking questions as one reads to the sponsors of the carnival, and they recently published the results, announcing that if they had an award, they’d call it an Edgy and declare Sara to be January’s winner! 

Chris Wondra was effusive in his praise of the post and this blog.  We appreciate it, and recommend this carnival to anyone interested in education issues and blogs. 

We’ve been less active here at Readers With Autism this month because Sara has been in New York.  But she hasn’t been lying around, she’s working on a book!  More on that later.

Richard 

Why I object to the term shadow

(Following is a cross-post from our sister blog, The Demanding Classroom.  If you haven’t  already done so, please take a look.  There are several other posts of mine there on paraeducators, plus a wide variety of  articles by Sara, on maintaining rigor across the curricula in a special education classroom.)

By Richard Finegan

You may call me a paraeducator, a paraprofessional, a one-on-one aide, a classroom assistant, a special education technician, even a teacher’s aide (though I am there for the student, not the teacher) but please don’t call me a shadow or describe what I do as shadowing.

The term shadow suggests that the aide never leaves the side of the child. That describes a bodyguard, not a paraeducator. I would not be doing my job if I hovered as close to my student as Malia Obama’s Secret Service agent.

True, I am what used to be called (and I still call) a one-on-one aide, and I do move from classroom to classroom with the same child. But my job is to help that student become more independent, more self-regulated and self-sufficient. I’ve never heard anyone explain how this can happen if I am constantly elbow-to-elbow with my kid.

A better analogy to what we do might be a sheepdog: Constantly alert and watching his or her charges but only moving in and out again as circumstances require. Yes, this analogy works better; shepherding is an improvement over shadowing. Even so, I don’t think I’m quite ready to be called a sheepdog either. Smile.

This is more than just a semantic issue. When others refer to me as a shadow or to what I do as shadowing, they consciously or unconsciously suggest that I should be sticking like glue to my student and that I am perhaps not doing my job properly if I am halfway across the classroom taking notes or, more often, walking around interacting with other students.

Worse even is what it suggests to new paraeducators trying to learn to do what we do. What they should be hearing is: Get up. Step back. Give your student some room to grow!