Here are 10 of the most effective strategies for teaching students with autism spectrum disorders; they can be implemented in a variety of educational settings:
1) Visual SchedulesStudents with autism perform best when their daily routine is predictable, with clear expectations.
Establishing and following a visual schedule eliminates the unexpected and assists students in anticipating and preparing for transitions…………………….
2) Environmental ConsiderationsVisual and auditory stimulation in the classroom must be taken into consideration.
Many students with autism are sensitive to auditory input and have a more difficult time processing auditory stimulation. Their work stations should be placed away from excessive auditory stimulation and away from unnecessary movement.
Click here to download the classroom diagram.
3) Visual StructureThe environment needs to be structured visually to help the student clearly see and understand what is expected of him. Work stations must be clearly defined………………….
4) Alternatives to Verbal CommunicationMany students with autism have impairments in communication, particularly expressive communication. For those who are non-verbal, an augmentative communication system must be in place. The Picture Exchange Communication System (PECS) has been very effective……………
5) Direct Instruction of Social SkillsThe majority of students with autism need direct instruction in social skills. Most do not learn interaction skills by simply being placed in social environments. They need to learn social interaction skills in the same way they learn other academic skills……………………………
6) Literacy Instruction
Because many students with autism rely on some form of augmentative communication, even if it is only a backup, literacy instruction is very important. If a student is literate, s/he will be able to communicate at a much higher level than if the child is forced to depend on communications devices that are programmed with limited vocabulary……………………….
7) Sensory OpportunitiesMost students with autism have some sensory needs. Many find deep pressure very relaxing. Others need frequent opportunities for movement. All students should have a sensory profile completed by an occupational therapist or other professional trained in sensory integration…………………………
8) Consistency
All students do best when the daily program remains consistent with clear expectations. All staff working with students with autism need to be well-trained and must implement the daily program as consistently as possible.
9) Take advantage of student strengths and interestsMany students with autism have particular strengths and interests and these should be taken advantage of in the classroom……………………………….
10) Functional Curriculum
Students with autism have a great deal of potential to live and work independently as adults. The curriculum should place a strong emphasis on following a functional curriculum. Skills that emphasize daily living skills, community skills, recreation and leisure and employment need to be incorporated into the curriculum…………………………………….
Monday, November 5, 2007
Friday, November 2, 2007
Surfing and Autism: Floating on Glory
When Hal Rager took his 5-year-old autistic son, Ian, to see the animated film "Surf's Up," Ian's eyes lit up. "He cries, 'I want to go surfing,'" said Rager, "and we said, 'Really?'"
But six weeks later, when Rager brought Ian to the ocean, the movie, which shows elated penguins embracing the lucid Antarctic waves, was a far cry from the crowded California beaches.
"[He] was fine with everything, but then I think it was the sheer number of people, because crowds get him nervous," said Rager.
It may be surprising to learn that young Ian is not the first autistic child to take an interest in surfing. Many parents of autistic children have discovered surfing can be a valuable reprieve from a sometimes stressful life.
As they watch their children's rigid behavior and unyielding routines, the prospect of allowing them to experience surfing for the first time means a great deal. But as in most cases of autism, if there's one thing that's almost certain, it's that doing anything for the first time can prove traumatic.
'There's a Magic out There That Happens'
To be fair, serious surfing in serious waves -- who wouldn't hesitate the first time?
And so it happens. The children wail and flail as their parents place them into the arms of the volunteers who plan to take them out. No matter how gentle they are, it is nearly impossible to explain to autistic children that it will be all right. So at several points, the kids are physically forced onto the boards.
Episodes like this show the raw truth of living with an autistic child, and Paskowitz has no difficulty admitting it. The tantrums, the uncomfortable outbursts -- this was never part of his plans.
Nightline Webcast: Surfing and Autism
Nightline Webcast: Surfing and Autism
And as the volunteers begin to paddle the first unwilling child into the swelling sea, it's almost impossible not to ask whether this is really a good thing to do to these kids.
"Somehow, someway, there's a magic out there that happens," said Israel "Izzy" Paskowitz, the founder and president of Surfer's Healing, a surfing camp for autistic children. Paskowitz is also the parent of an autistic son, Isaiah. At 16, Isaiah can hardly speak, but at 250 pounds, he is enormously strong.
His size came into play one morning as "Nightline" witnessed an altercation between Isaiah and his father. Isaiah slugged his father twice, forcing Paskowitz to restrain his son on the tent floor.
'I Thought Isaiah Would Get Better'
Paskowitz was a former competitive surfer himself, and when his son was diagnosed with autism at the age of 3, he found it hard to accept.
"He was my hopes, my dreams, my pro surfer who was supposed to be all that stuff when you were young," said Paskowitz. "And I just thought he would get better. I thought Isaiah would get better. And I did not like the fact that he never got better."
For a long time, Paskowitz simply walked away from it. When Isaiah was 13, Paskowitz admitted, he just didn't want to deal with it.
And then, by accident, Paskowitz discovered something he and his son had in common: the way the waves worked on them. They were at the beach one day when Isaiah was having one of his tantrums.
"[He] would resist going in the water," he said. "One fit on the beach led to me throwing him in the water, and led to 'Give me that … damn board' -- I put him on a board and we just paddled out, where we could be alone and have a cry."
And the tears didn't come only from Isaiah.
"I want to be the strong dad. I don't want to be crying in front of the kids or in front of my wife. So really, I just bawled my head off in the water with Isaiah and rode a few waves and I felt better, and he felt better. And that's it."
That's it: Those two words led to what occurred on the beach after Isaiah was forced out of the water by his father. He calmed down and off on the horizon, he and his father surfed in tandem. Something soothed Isaiah that day. Not a cure -- simply a good time, a respite.
Paskowitz has since began running events for kids with autism all over the United States and overseas. And in most cases, it ends with the kids exhilarated, triumphant and floating on glory.
Surfing's Soothing Powers
Ian Rager, who showed initial interest in surfing after seeing a movie, later became less willing to try it out. He is an only child, and he and his parents had traveled for five hours from their home in Las Vegas and checked into a Best Western, just so they could be in San Diego for the event.
"[I] want him to know that he could do things," said Rager. "Because a lot of times with being the way he is, being a … high functioning autistic, other kids aren't always kind to you, and especially if he's not able to do something at school because he's gotten emotionally overwrought or something."
The sight of other children smiling as they mounted their surfboards also had no effect on Ian. That's because for a child with autism, facial expressions are like a foreign language. For many, registering the emotions of others remains a mystery.
The other mystery -- why is surfing so soothing to these kids? A possible answer was discovered about 120 miles up the California coast, right off Santa Monica. "Nightline" met up with Steven Kotler, a surfing fanatic and a writer who has thought a lot about surfing's ability to heal.
Kotler said that when he was sick with Lyme disease a few years ago, he was hallucinating and confined to his house. Then a physical therapist friend called him one day and urged him to go surfing.
"And I just started laughing. At the time I couldn't even walk across a room," said Kotler of his persistent friend's call. "[She] dragged me out to the ocean, and ultimately what I was thinking was, 'You know what? I'm going to kill myself. I can't get any worse. I won't be able to surf, but I'll be able to see the ocean one more time,' and it drove me to the ocean."
Good for the Brain and the Body?
As Kotler recounts in his book, "West of Jesus," his friend was right. Somehow he got better, and he believes it was the surfing; he believes the risk-taking involved in surfing does something good to the brain and the body.
"Dopamine is the brain's principle happy drug," said Kotler. "It is also pre-performance enhancing drug. So muscles move faster, as does the heart. Norpromine, another chemical produced while surfing offers a similar result."
"[It is] good to be a little scared, and even if it's not a real fear, really, really small waves, you know, they can actually produce reactions," said Kotler. "And just the act of paddling, if you do it long enough, like any other cardiovascular activity, will endorse endorphins. These are serious pleasure chemicals."
Maybe that's what was working on the beach in San Diego. It wasn't just the kids who were smiling. So were their parents.
"They get tears," said Isaiah's mother, Danielle. "They never thought their kid could do something like that, and they're thanking me profusely, and I'm like, 'God, don't thank me. Thank you.'"
It was also good for these parents just to be around so many people who understood. This extreme-seeming thing they were doing, letting strangers wrestle their kids into the sea, has a logic to it -- an autism kind of logic.
And parents like Paskowitz believe this logic is not understood by everyone.
"From the outside? [People think] they're retarded, that they're weird," he said. "That they're crazy. That the parents are sh---y parents and they let their kid run around on the cliff and dart away or steal someone's soda. All these things with autism, the way they look are all normal."
'After a Couple of Waves, He Got Calm'
And so, for little Ian Rager, who resisted getting into the water, his parents, like so many others, had no problem forcing him in. Why? "They lock down and they either retreat to a safe zone or push on through."
Ian was overruled and out he went, so far out that his parents lost sight of him. But what none of us on shore could see was captured by the cameras. He was with a volunteer named Josh.
"After a couple of waves, he got calm, he got really calm and just kind of kept paddling," said Josh. "So it was really cool, it was really neat."
Not that anyone could see that from shore, because they stayed out there a long time.
And what were Ian's thoughts as the waves pushed him back to shore? "Please take me to Best Western!"
So once was enough for Ian Rager. But he did it. And for a brief time, he rode the waves and floated on glory.
'Autism: The Musical'
This documentary takes a look at the intersection of theater and therapy for children afflicted with autismby joanne mosuela
Traditional therapists couldn't reach Elaine Hall's autistic son, Neal. The appearance of Neal's autism, a brain development disorder that causes impairments in the areas of social interaction and communication, was a devastating irony for Hall, a performer and professional acting coach by trade. But her greatest role was as a mother, and she was not going to let Neal retreat into his own world. So Hall brought in theater people to act as therapists.
"If Neal needed to do crazy things, they would be crazy with him," Hall said. "They would join his world until he emerged into ours."
Part two of Elaine Hall's revelation about the positive effects of acting and movement is told in Autism: The Musical, a documentary about the six months preceding the opening night of a musical that a group of autistic children from Los Angeles star and sing in, as well as help create.
Hall's "Miracle Project" is as much for the children's benefit as it is for the families and communities that surround them. It is at once therapy, recreation and activism. Autism is much more diverse and complex than the stereotypical image of a child rocking in the corner of a room suggests. Director Tricia Regan sheds light on the diversity of behavior and ability found within the disorder by letting five of the Project's participants speak out about their own condition. Regan follows them from scene rehearsals to family dinners and even to the most debated space for autistic children -- the classroom.
Descriptions of the science or history of the "Miracle Project" and even of its final product -- we only see snippets of the musical's scenes and musical numbers -- are secondary to the voices of the autistic children and their parents.
The five children include Hall's son Neal along with Adam, a fitful, cello-playing 9-year-old; Henry and Wyatt, two talkative boys with high-functioning yet still debilitating autism; and the constantly smiling 14-year-old Lexi, whose mother doesn't know if she should give her daughter a talk about boys, or rather, if Lexi will ever need one. It is Lexi, singing a Joni Mitchell song near the beginning of the film that sets up the film's foci: the tense present and unpredictable future of these children plus the fear and stress of their parents. In her angelic voice, Lexi prophetically sings, "I get the urge for going but I never seem to go."
Not one parent, least of all Hall, is of the opinion that the harmonies of music will somehow translate into peace instead of the chaos that comes with raising an autistic child. Half of the profiled parents, including Hall, have had marital troubles (divorce, separation, an affair).
Despite the uplifting -- therefore misleading -- title, Autism: The Musical, the documentary is altogether bleak. Regan's fair view into autism offers hope that these children can enter our world but is far from saying each of them can eventually hold their own in it. The few successes the film celebrates seem to ride on the film's limited time frame. Hall's son Neal can type-talk now but will he ever be able to use his own voice? Hope exists because there are days ahead.
Autism: The Musical is a chance to stare straight into the eyes of autistic children, if only for a moment.
Traditional therapists couldn't reach Elaine Hall's autistic son, Neal. The appearance of Neal's autism, a brain development disorder that causes impairments in the areas of social interaction and communication, was a devastating irony for Hall, a performer and professional acting coach by trade. But her greatest role was as a mother, and she was not going to let Neal retreat into his own world. So Hall brought in theater people to act as therapists.
"If Neal needed to do crazy things, they would be crazy with him," Hall said. "They would join his world until he emerged into ours."
Part two of Elaine Hall's revelation about the positive effects of acting and movement is told in Autism: The Musical, a documentary about the six months preceding the opening night of a musical that a group of autistic children from Los Angeles star and sing in, as well as help create.
Hall's "Miracle Project" is as much for the children's benefit as it is for the families and communities that surround them. It is at once therapy, recreation and activism. Autism is much more diverse and complex than the stereotypical image of a child rocking in the corner of a room suggests. Director Tricia Regan sheds light on the diversity of behavior and ability found within the disorder by letting five of the Project's participants speak out about their own condition. Regan follows them from scene rehearsals to family dinners and even to the most debated space for autistic children -- the classroom.
Descriptions of the science or history of the "Miracle Project" and even of its final product -- we only see snippets of the musical's scenes and musical numbers -- are secondary to the voices of the autistic children and their parents.
The five children include Hall's son Neal along with Adam, a fitful, cello-playing 9-year-old; Henry and Wyatt, two talkative boys with high-functioning yet still debilitating autism; and the constantly smiling 14-year-old Lexi, whose mother doesn't know if she should give her daughter a talk about boys, or rather, if Lexi will ever need one. It is Lexi, singing a Joni Mitchell song near the beginning of the film that sets up the film's foci: the tense present and unpredictable future of these children plus the fear and stress of their parents. In her angelic voice, Lexi prophetically sings, "I get the urge for going but I never seem to go."
Not one parent, least of all Hall, is of the opinion that the harmonies of music will somehow translate into peace instead of the chaos that comes with raising an autistic child. Half of the profiled parents, including Hall, have had marital troubles (divorce, separation, an affair).
Despite the uplifting -- therefore misleading -- title, Autism: The Musical, the documentary is altogether bleak. Regan's fair view into autism offers hope that these children can enter our world but is far from saying each of them can eventually hold their own in it. The few successes the film celebrates seem to ride on the film's limited time frame. Hall's son Neal can type-talk now but will he ever be able to use his own voice? Hope exists because there are days ahead.
Autism: The Musical is a chance to stare straight into the eyes of autistic children, if only for a moment.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)