Dear Teacher,
Welcome to the start of the new school year. Thank you for being here! Thank you for all that you will do in the months ahead to help my children to grow and to know and to find footing as they wander where curiosity leads.
I hope you had time to rest over the summer, to recharge and renew. I hope you were able to enjoy your family, to travel, and play, and read, and experience all the things that a satisfying summer brings. I hope you will meet the new year with creativity and openness, and that, as you face what lies ahead, you will be imbued with the strength of a warrior, the heart of a hero, and the wisdom of a sage.
I’ve heard you say that children need structure and I agree with you. We all need routines we can depend upon.
I’ve heard you say that children need to know there is a strong adult upon whom they can rely, and I think so too. Everyone needs someone they can count on no matter what.
I’ve heard you talk about behavior in the classroom. You prefer order and I do too, but sometimes things get messy. You’ve said that kindness is the rule – it’s how you will treat your students and how you would like them to treat you and one another. We have the same rule at home, but every now and again it gets turned upside down.
I’ve heard you say that you will consider each child individually. I think that may mean that you will assess academic skills and group each child with others of like ability. This happens, but I hope you will see more as you evaluate the assets and essence that make an individual.
Today, as I entrust you with my son, I would like you to know who he is. As I place my daughter in your hands, I would like you to know her story. He is bright, and bold, and imaginative. She is sweet and aims to please. He is curious. She is acquiescent. He prefers to wear his shirts backward and she arrives dressed to impress. He strikes poses to demonstrate his superhuman strength. She trips up the stairs and giggles.
My son will challenge you; at times he will be unyielding. He may refuse to do simple tasks. He might stand when it’s time to sit or sit when you’ve asked him to run. He may have a hard time sharing or letting go of a thing. He doesn’t like loud noises and he may react to odors which you cannot detect. You’ll see his body stiffen as he clenches his fists in frustration. Most of the time, he’ll be able to bring himself back to composure; occasionally, he will not. He will tell stories about great feats of strength and he’ll share of his time as a school principal or a top chef. He’ll talk about his extraordinary travels (which likely took place as field trips in kindergarten). Most days he will be fine. He’ll be a pleasure to have in class. You will appreciate his sense of humor and his willingness to help. He’ll be joyful, eager, determined, and ready.
My daughter will fly under the radar at first. She’ll say what she believes you want to hear. Her objective is to please you. She’ll be chatty in class and when you call her to task, she’ll ask you not to tell me that the two of you have talked. Her objective is to please me too. When you’re looking away, she may take things off your desk. She’ll perform a task proficiently one day, but not have a clue the next. She’ll fidget intensely and pick at her skin until it bleeds. She’ll report stomach aches, headaches, scrapes, and hangnails. She’ll ask to go to the nurse’s office a lot. She may tell you that she has not been fed or share “memories” of things that will cause you concern for her well-being. At the end of it all, she will put her head on her desk and fall asleep. Most days will be good. You will appreciate her contagious smile, her kind spirit, and her ability always to be understanding.
My son and my daughter, like all the children who fill the desks in your classroom, come to school every day prepared to do the best they can and they will give you the opportunity to help them. My children may struggle in ways that frustrate you or in ways that you do not understand. They are neurodiverse. This means that they perceive, process, and express information differently than most people do.
Neurodiversity includes genetic variations in the way a person functions, as in ADHD and autism spectrum disorder. It is comprised of learning differences like dyslexia and dysgraphia. It includes emotional disparities and sensory processing differences. It also includes the brain’s adaptations to adverse childhood experiences like illness, abuse, and neglect.
When you see my children behaving outside of the bounds of your expectations, you will be frustrated. You may become angry. You will wonder what is wrong with them and you may come to faulty conclusions. My children are not ill-mannered, or undisciplined, or sick, or broken. They are not being neglected or abused at home. They are not willfully disrupting your classroom or choosing intentionally to defy the expectations you have set for them. They perceive, process, and express information differently than most people do.
My children are doing the best they can. Your expectations, even the ones you believe are basic, may be beyond their ability to achieve – not always but sometimes, depending upon what else they are experiencing. Their behavior is often a signal of distress.
Behavior is a vehicle for communicating what we cannot use words to describe. It is communication informed by body sensations and sensory experiences. The behavior that you see as “undesirable” in a classroom is often communicating intense anxiety and fear. When my son feels threatened or unsafe, he may try to protect himself aggressively. He may try to assume control of his environment by asserting himself as an authority or telling an heroic tale. My daughter, on the other hand, shrinks from perceived threat. She will do anything – anything – to get along. When she is too overwhelmed, she falls asleep.
The behavior that you may find troubling is a physiologic response to environmental inputs. It is different from that which you ordinarily encounter. Because of their early experiences, my children perceive, process, and express information differently than most people do.
When they are at school, they need a strong adult upon whom they can rely. They need everything you have to offer. They need to be able to count on your structure and routine. They need to know that you will be present and steadfastly in their corner. They need you to connect with them when they get stuck and not to criticize, judge, or shame. They need you to see them through a wide-angle lens.
I’ve heard you say that you will give every child the opportunity to meet the expectations you have set for them. We all need people who will trust in us enough to offer us opportunities. Respectfully, however, I hope you will be willing to suspend your expectations and simply stand to meet each child.
Sincerely,
The Parent of a Neurodiverse Child
Comments (0)