Category Archives: literacy

Literacy and Autism

We have been working intensively with Emma on her reading, writing, typing and more recently math and verbal skills.  The reading, writing and typing program we began in January.  It was at this time that she painstakingly learned how to form each letter of the alphabet.

This morning Emma wrote this, in answer to the written question – Did the cat jump? – after I had made the cat jump.

In answering the question – Did the boy jump? (the boy as seen in this photo was lying in a bed) Emma wrote:

In accessing Emma’s progress, I need to compare her to herself and not other children.  I have seen over the years how easy it is to become discouraged when I compare Emma to her brother or any neuro-typical child or even other children on the spectrum – unless they are much more severe.

“This isn’t going to be a sprint,” Richard once observed, after seeing yet another neurologist.

And it isn’t.  Emma is making slow and steady progress.  We work with her for about three hours every day on her literacy, math and verbal exercises.  There has been no instantaneous miracle.  She has not begun to write on her own in complete, complex and revealing sentences.  She has not gotten to the point where she is able to tell us what it is like for her to be her.  She cannot answer questions regarding anything remotely abstract.  (Which doesn’t mean I don’t continually hold out hope that one day she will.  I do.)  But at the moment, I am happy to reflect on her slow, steady progress and it fills me with joy to work with her each morning and to see these beautiful sentences that she constructs on her own.

Someone once asked me – Is it good enough?

The idea being that I had a preconceived notion of how I wanted something to be and anything short of that meant it was an utter failure.  Sometimes being “good enough” is still pretty fabulous.  So yes – Emma’s progress is good enough.  In fact, it’s better than good enough, it’s wonderful.

For more on Emma’s journey through a childhood of autism, go to:  www.EmmasHopeBook.com

What Matters

We are leaving soon.  Back to New York City where our other life awaits us.  The children need to get ready for a new school year, medical forms need to be filled out, bus companies need to be contacted and confirmed, school supplies need to be bought.  Nic will be entering 6th grade and there’s a certain excitement in that.  Emma doesn’t enter a “grade”.  She will be placed in a class with other children on the spectrum, who are near to where she is academically.  I am always filled with trepidation at the start of a new year regarding Emma.  It is difficult not to give in to fears and worries.  Will she excel?  Will her new teacher and classroom be a good fit?

The truth is, Emma has progressed more in the past seven months than she has in five years.  We attribute this to the literacy program we began in January of this year.  We have now added a math program as well as a verbal program.  Emma is working each day for about three hours on these various programs.  It has been amazing to witness.  Progress.  This is the word every specialist we’ve ever spoken to has used.  Is she progressing?  And the answer to that question is a resounding – Yes.  We cannot predict what the future holds for Emma.  We cannot know how far she will go.  But as long as she continues to progress we know we are on the right track. I heard someone say once – Progress, not perfection.  It’s an apt thought for any of us.

Emma at dusk last night

For more on Emma’s journey through a childhood of autism, go to: www.EmmasHopeBook.com

These Last Few Days

Every day for the past month, Emma has gone on the bus to summer camp with her brother, Nic and her therapist Joe, shadowing her.  Joe tells me this year has been terrific.  Emma has tried new things, been engaged and interacted with the other children more than the year before.  Today is their last day before coming out to join me in Aspen.  Because it’s their last day, Nic told me, they can do whatever they like.  Nic said he was probably going to play soccer, practice his archery, swim “a bunch of times” in the the lake and do gymnastics.

I am interested to hear what Emma will do.  When I called last night, she was with Joe in her “study room” so I couldn’t speak to her to ask.  Not that I would have gotten a clear answer.  The future and past are difficult concepts for Emma to express.  I never know when I speak with her if she’s referring to something she wants to do, did do, will do in the future or wished she could have done in the past. Despite my confusion in regards to what time frame is being referenced, Emma is usually without complaint.

Emma at camp – 2011

Every afternoon upon returning from camp, Joe and Emma go into her “study room” where she works on her literacy program.  I haven’t worked with her for the last ten days, so I am eager to see how she is coming along.  Emma’s literacy program, perhaps more than anything else, has caused a significant shift, in Emma, but also in me.  The progress she’s made since this January when she was just learning to form her letters, to now, where she is writing one and two sentences, is tremendous to see.  But I also feel she is gaining a certain degree of self confidence.  Working with her has been incredible as I know how hard it is for her, but she continues to do the work anyway.

Sleep, wake up, sleep, wake up, go on the airplane and see Mommy!

For more on Emma’s journey through a childhood of autism, go to:  www.EmmasHopeBook.com

Learning

Since the family is now here, I’ve been getting up with Emma, so everyone else can sleep.  Emma typically wakes by 6:30AM and often a bit earlier.  Usually we go downstairs and sit together on the couch.

“Go to other pool?” Emma said this morning.

“Okay, but Joe just drove in from Denver last night, so maybe tomorrow.”

“Go to Glenwood pool tomorrow,” Emma said, nodding her head.

“Yeah.  Maybe tomorrow.  Joe’s probably pretty tired today.”

“Joe’s coming,” Emma replied.

“No.  He’s here!” I said pointing upstairs.  “He got in late last night.   He’s sleeping,” I explained.

“Joe’s sleeping.  Joe!  Can we go to the other pool?  I want to go to the Glenwood pool!”

“Okay, Em.  We’ll ask Joe when he wakes up.  How about doing our work in the study room?” I asked.

“Do study room in Mommy’s bed,” Emma said.  Before I could answer she added, “No, not going to do study room in Mommy’s bed.  We have to go to Mommy’s office just with Joe!”

“Exactly, Em.  We have to show Joe what we’re doing.” I told her.  “We have to wait until Joe wakes up.”

“We have to wait,” Emma said.

After Emma made her toast and ate it, she said, “Go see Joe.”

“We have to wait, Em.  He’s tired.  We need to let him sleep.  Okay?”

“We have to wait,” Emma said sadly.

Eventually Joe appeared and Emma jumped up and down, “It’s Joe!  Joe’s here!  Go to study room with Joe?”

Emma and I are doing the next level of her literacy program.  It’s a big step from what we’d been doing and it’s difficult for Emma.  We watch a video and then do some computer work spelling one word.  It is the same word repeated over and over in the story.  Emma then must find the right letters on the keyboard to spell the word as well as find the word within the story.  Emma does pretty well with all of that, but when we go to handwriting, it’s as though Emma has forgotten all her letters that we’ve been working on over the past few months.

The first day I found myself becoming frightened and by yesterday I felt abject terror.  Terror at the idea she won’t be able to do this next level, frightened that it’s more than her mind can retain.  I imagine she senses my fear in addition to her own anxiety and the whole thing snowballs, making it even more difficult for her.  I am relieved Joe is here, so that he can work with her a few times.  Perhaps his calm demeanor will have a positive effect on her, allowing her to relax enough that she can just concentrate on the work.

“Your fear is palpable,” Richard observed last night.

“I know it is,” I answered.  “I am terrified she won’t be able to learn this.  And then I go off to the next thought and the next, it’s horrible.”

And it is.  But it’s my fear and has little to do with anything that is actually happening.  I must learn to manage this fear as it’s getting in the way of Emma’s learning.  I must compartmentalize it.  My worries are not helping Emma.  I say this in my head while I am working with her – these are my fears, they are not real, they are just thoughts.  They do not mean anything, they are just fears.  They are not real, they are not real.

Repeat as necessary.