“She’s only 2 years old,” said the woman standing next to me at the swings, as we pushed our respective children. I was in shock as I listened to the little girl in her care form complex sentences about her surroundings, about her morning, about whatever came to mind. “All you have to do is read to them. Reading is the key,” she suggested. My daughter was almost 3 and while alert and responsive, was just starting to express herself and her wants in single words. I’d noticed it for a while, but was always told “just wait” or “every child is different.” While it's true that every child is different, I was anxious to find out just how mine was, so that if necessary, I could give her all the tools she needed to start school and be able to keep up with her peers.
My daughter started pre-K3 last year, and at first the teachers didn’t notice much difference between her and the other students.
At our first conference, I brought up my concerns and asked the teacher to observe my daughter intently, and see if she picked up on anything. Fast forward a few months, a multitude of in class observation and testing, the teachers, school’s speech therapist, and child psychologist came to the conclusion that my daughter indeed was on the autism spectrum. While unprepared for this news, I was happy to finally have an explanation. I was happy for my daughter to finally receive a lesson plan adapted to her individual needs, as opposed to having to struggle to assimilate into the sometimes rigid structure of the conventional classroom setting.
Almost instantly, regular speech therapy sessions were incorporated into her schedule and the inclusion teacher would join her in class multiple times a week to help her understand assignments.
Three weeks into her Individualized Education Plan, I saw amazing progress in her vocabulary and sentence formulation. I was thrilled. No sooner than we had found a rhythm that was working for us, did the news of COVID-19 spread, along with the actual virus. Along with the succession of shutdowns and mandatory closings went my daughter’s education. The rest of that school year was spent muddling through a virtual format that had been hurriedly pulled together by the school system. I will admit that the teachers my daughter had put forth an amazing amount of effort to give the children homework and assignments and to interact with them as much as possible. But it wasn’t working.
A large part of schooling in a traditional setting involves in person interaction, and lots of activity and stimulation.
If the stimulation isn't coming from the curriculum and toys, its coming from fellow classmates. To sit in front of her screen in a very quiet room and no other children around her was almost like a lullaby for my daughter. After a minute, she was almost put to sleep and would be off to create her own fun. Another challenge was all the homework that the children were given through an app called Seesaw. After their classes, the parents would be required to have the children submit the assignments or video the assignments and submit them online. This was a challenge for me because at the end of the school day and work day, we both were tired and my daughter was not in the mood for any more quizzing and learning after doing so online. Those four months were a struggle.
Many parents I heard decided to homeschool and I definitely considered removing my child for pre-K and just returning when it was time for kindergarten.
But I knew that my extremely friendly child enjoyed the interaction with her teachers and classmates, no matter how challenging. I also didn't want her to lose her place in her school, which often had a waiting list to enter. Moreover, I felt that removing her from the consistent schedule that school had provided would do more damage than good, and ultimately when she would return, she would have to adjust all over again to that setting. We decided to push through.
The school year ended on a weird note — with many of the pre-K3 teachers leaving the school altogether.
The pandemic, which continues to rage on, was still in full force. After a summer spent indoors, starting the new school year virtually was expected but I was uncertain and afraid on behalf of my daughter. If the new virtual format would echo the previous months, I knew I would have to supplement my child’s education in a large way. Her speech improved greatly over the summer, but she still needs to learn. Would she have to stay back a grade because she’s not learning anything? I was pleasantly surprised to find that the curriculum during the new school year was much more child-friendly, interactive, and altogether balanced.
We are currently two months into pre-K4, and I must admit that even with the new format, virtual learning is definitely still a challenge.
I work full-time and although we are working remotely, I do need to be alert to help provide supplies, to switch virtual classrooms, to make sure my daughter isn't clicking out of Zoom and playing games — it's a lot. She needs a lot of management as she thrives on a high amount of sensory stimulation. But it's truly gratifying to see my daughter look forward to class, interact and want to answer questions, and want to play with her classmates, even from behind the tablet screen. As a "helicopter mom," I also love having the opportunity to hear what’s going on in the classroom and react accordingly. I love hearing what the curriculum is so that after school, I can pick up on and then reinforce things my daughter might have missed.
Working with a child with special needs is challenging only because the lifestyle and way that we live is very regimented and doesn’t allow for flexibility.
The school system is much like this as well, because all children within this infrastructure are expected to respond similarly to one style of teaching and one curriculum. So when children with special needs come along, not only are they forced into an environment where most people — children and teachers — aren't accustomed to people with different social and learning styles, but then the whole system is just not made for them. A child with these needs is often punished — either by the internal frustration of not getting what's going on, or externally through bullying or mean remarks from others — which then increases a parent’s anxiety.
However, I don’t really look at my daughter any differently than any other child in that I love her for what makes her unique, and try not to pigeonhole or limit her due to her differences.
Every child is unique, and I feel that all parents have to adapt to their individual child’s needs and differences to make their journey through life a smooth one. This mentality is important and keeping in mind that goal can help any parent dealing with a similar circumstance. Accepting these things can be hard, because maybe you anticipate that their life will be hard. But the reality is that trying to assimilate — even for a neurotypical child — can do more harm than good.
Embracing our children and teaching them how to be confident in themselves and their own beliefs, values, and preferences is the best preparation we can give them for this world.
Overall, although this year has been pretty bleak on paper — children forced to spend almost a year indoors, through spring and summer, with a devastating global pandemic as the backdrop — I think we are doing our best to make a success of virtual learning. If anything getting through this should make the next 13 years a breeze!
Right?
