Classroom Solutions - helping noise-sensitive students to cope

September can be a difficult month in the school system, as everyone (students, teachers, parents) gets used to new classrooms, new groups, and new expectations. 

 

 

 

This picture, drawn by Owen (and used with his permission), for me perfectly encapsulates the feelings of distress and irritation that can develop on all sides of the classroom dynamic, especially during the early weeks of the school term.

Here are some ideas to help you and your noise-sensitive students through any current rough spots, while laying the ground-work to create a learning environment that will be effective for the school year ahead:

1. Look at the problem from all sides:

Owen drew his perspective for me, clearly showing that he felt his noisy classroom situation was not working out for him, but also not working for the other students and the teacher. During our discussion, we used clues and tried to "guess" what was in the minds of the other people in the situation. This helped Owen to understand why some of the other students might be distracted and having trouble settling down to work, also why the teacher might be finding it frustrating as well (trying to teach when people weren't focused and listening).

It was important to him that I shared his drawn perspective with the teachers, so that he was sure they were aware of how upset he felt.

2. Figure out what you control and what you don't:

This is a critical part of the problem-solving process, because anger and frustration are driven by feeling powerless to change a difficult situation. Finding out where your power is (what do you control?) gives a starting point for effective solutions.

Here is a simple visual that I have often drawn for my students to show them what they control and what they don't:

Essentially, you have direct control over everything that is connected to your brain - your thoughts/feelings, your words, your actions. Your words and actions may "influence" another person's choices (this is the world of social cues), but you can't control what another person chooses to do, say, think or feel.

* aside: it's interesting how often I have to remind myself of this exact thing when I'm sorting out difficult situations in my own life *

3. Define the problem and generate a list of possible solutions:

Owen is extremely noise sensitive and his ability to process spoken information in the presence of background noise is not strong. The classroom was noisy and several students were being disruptive. Owen was able to define his core problems as: (1) clearly receiving the teacher's lesson and instructions, and (2) being able to focus and do his work.

Once we had clarified what the real problems were, Owen and I were able to come up with a list of potential solutions:

 

Notice that all of these strategies have to do with things that Owen has direct control over in the situation - they let him know that he does have power to change things for the better.

4. Get help for what is out of your control:

Even with the above solutions, this is a difficult on-going situation for Owen to manage (noise is a huge irritant that disrupts his thinking). Owen and I have known each other a long time, and he has confidence that I will act as his advocate and "go-between", explaining his distress to the other adults. He also has great confidence in the teachers at his school - they have helped him solve difficult situations many times over the years, and he is 100% certain that they "have his back".

True solutions to challenging school situations require on-going collaboration between the student, teachers, parents and any other professionals involved. Keeping good lines of communication going helps everyone to stay calm and have confidence that solutions can be found (no matter how difficult the events of the day may have been)

Untangling the "Why?"

Probably the most common questions I've fielded over my years working with individuals on the autism spectrum all start with the same word: "Why ... ?"

Why is he doing that?
Why doesn't he look at me?
Why did she run away?
Why did he melt down?

Some autism professionals will tell you that all of the information you need to know (to answer your question) can be found by observing the person's behaviour in the environment where it occurs. I would agree that this can be a good place to start (especially if the person is non-verbal) because you get some clues about what might have gone wrong, what might have irritated, upset or overwhelmed that person. But it's just a starting point.

Many human actions and reactions are more complex than "if this, then that" - they are driven by thoughts, feelings, perception, understanding - to figure them out, you will need to find a way to ask the ASD person what the situation looked like from their perspective and you will also need to listen to, respect and act on the answer you get.

So, a few personal stories to illustrate:

First, a story that I've mentioned previously in this blog. When Adam was in elementary school, a social goal was written into his IEP (Individual Education Plan) stating that he would learn to say "hi" to other students in the hallway. From the start, Adam was clearly (and observably) upset by this program. So, I drew a picture to "ask" him what was wrong - here's what he drew:



#1 is my picture "question" to Adam - pictures #2-4 are his "answer"

Picture #3 was the most compelling for me - Adam is inside the locker, hiding from the horrible smiling greeting girl (visible in pieces through the locker vents), his distress and upset clear for anyone to see (no lack of emotion on his part). While we still didn't know "why" it was so awful for him, there was no doubt that it was, so the "greeting program" was scrapped.

Respect for his perspective. In retrospect, my guess is that he was not able to process faces and voices very well at that point in time, so he couldn't really tell who was talking to him (or why they would be). When he got to high school, he seemed to suddenly be more comfortable with other people and started to spontaneously greet them and call them by name - because they were the same height as him? because his neurology had developed to the point the he could distinguish one person's face/voice from another? because life in general was more comprehensible to him? - maybe one or all of these reasons (or something else entirely). Interesting, but not as important as listening to him and respecting the fact that a program meant to be helpful was actually not.

Second story, also from elementary school, involves a different young boy with a diagnosis of Asperger's Syndrome. We had been doing a lot of visual work to help him figure out social dynamics on the playground (an environment that was full of conflict and distress for him). Suddenly, his EA (Educational Assistant) made a worrisome observation - the boy's eyes were rolling up in his head when he was out on the playground with his peers. Some of you may have jumped to the same conclusion that we did - fearing he was starting to have seizures, we discussed a referral to the pediatric neurologist. But just before we did that paperwork, I realized we hadn't really asked him what those incidents were like from his perspective.

So, I drew him a visual "question" (although this boy was verbal, his language often failed him when he was trying to discuss more abstract or emotional topics). The question looked something like this:

I asked him to fill in the thought bubble, and this is what he wrote: "I don't want them to read my mind". Interesting. We had been having a lot of discussions about the "invisible" social cues (facial expression, tone of voice, body language) and about how eye contact was important because it let you "read" these social cues and make guesses about what another person was thinking (to help navigate a social situation more successfully). This boy was very intelligent. He decided he wasn't all that comfortable with having other people know what he was thinking, so he purposely denied them eye contact to prevent them from reading his mind. A logical and reasonable conclusion based on the information he had been given.

So, we had a new discussion about the difference between guessing and knowing, and the fact that the other kids couldn't actually read his mind. Once he felt reassured that his thoughts were still private and it was his choice which ones he wanted to make public, the eye rolling stopped immediately, and the neurology referral was no longer necessary.

Not a "why" that could be figured out in any other way than by asking the person doing the behaviour.

Third and last story. This one is about another beautiful and sensitive young boy with a diagnosis of autism, preschool age, who suddenly seemed to go backward in his toilet training. It turned out that he was fearful of the noise made by the public bathroom hand-dryers and his fear quickly extended to all toilets. A psychologist suggested to the mom that she make the boy go into the public bathroom (drag him, I guess), stand him under the dryer and repeatedly turn it on until his "avoidance" response was extinguished. The mom didn't think this sounded like a good idea, so she asked me for a second opinion. I strongly backed up her intuition that this was a very bad idea.

Observation showed that the boy was terrified by the hand dryer noise, although he couldn't articulate "why". Parental common sense says that you protect your child from fearful situations, rather than purposely exposing them to scary and overwhelming situations (because that's abusive).

Here's what we did instead. I made him a tape of sounds - ones he liked (like my piano) and ones he didn't (like the hair dryer). Then I let him be the boss of the tape machine (this was a while ago, it was a cassette tape). He controlled the on/off, the volume, which ones we played and which ones we didn't. Very interesting because he would choose to listen to the "fearful" sounds in this context, very softly to be sure, but he seemed to want to figure them out.

At the same time, we got him some "over the ear" noise protection headphones from the hardware store, and he wore these many places outside of his house to control his personal noise intake. I can still clearly picture the day he arrived at my house with a determined look on his face, headphones in hand and announced: "Sheila, get the broom ... we're setting off the fire alarm!" ... and we did ... and then he asked me to get the hairdryer so he could turn it on and off while cautiously lifting up one cup of his headphones. A very brave boy, facing his fears on his terms.

What was important here? Listening to his perspective. Giving him respect for the magnitude of his fearful response to certain sounds. Giving him control over that scary part of his everyday environment. Giving him strategies to manage the overwhelming cacophony of the larger world.

And here's the most interesting part. The "why" of his reaction, which was revealed as he grew older. This boy is a musical genius. His auditory system is so fine-tuned that he can play back multi-part harmony after hearing a musical piece only once. His auditory processing is far too exquisite for the yammering jack-hammer nature of our mundane world, and that's why he was overwhelmed by everyday noises when he was a little boy. As a grown-up, he is an accomplished musician with a rare talent. Beautiful boy indeed.

WHY is the most common question, and also the most important question.

 

Always seek out the perspective of the person on the autism spectrum. Respect the answer that you get, even if it's not convenient or the answer you hoped for. Bend the world to accommodate the ASD person, smooth the rough edges, make things comprehensible, give them control and the power to choose what they want and don't want, what they will or won't do. Respect them as independent intelligent human beings who may not want to comply with your arbitrary demands, but so what?

 

Defiance tends to lead to more interesting and unusual places than compliance anyway.

Through the Eyes of Autism - part 4

 

How many little kids are "too many little kids"? What follows is a story of autism and spring-time, love, respect, understanding, and family ties.

 

 

 

 

To understand the events of this story, you first need to know that spring is a very difficult time for Adam. He has allergies to multiple substances that appear as soon as the snow starts to melt. He suffers traditional allergic reactions (sniffling, sneezing, congestion), but also experiences multiple sensory and cognitive changes in the spring-time months. His sensory hyper-sensitivities increase, his ability to process language and new information drops, and his tolerance for dealing with the challenges of everyday life out in the world is sharply reduced.

 

For more background details, take a look at this previous blog post:

Seasonal Allergies and Autism - April 2011

Here's the story: 

A couple of weeks ago, in the middle of the spring-time melt in Ottawa, Adam's sister Laura and her boyfriend Ryan took Adam out for a "fun" afternoon. Adam loves McDonald's, and on previous outings, starting off with lunch at McD's had worked out really well .... but not that day.

I have written previously about Adam's views on "babies" - a category that includes "little kids" (see blog post: ... of babies and monsters for more details). They are too short, too loud, too active and too unpredictable for Adam to feel comfortable and safe when they're around.

They get to McDonald's ... the moment Adam entered with his sister and her boyfriend, they all realized there was a problem. The restaurant was full of little kids. They were loud, they were active, they were everywhere. Laura and Ryan did what they could - helped Adam find a table that was less chaotic, tag-teamed at the counter to order the food - and Adam did what he could, distracting himself with his iPad. They managed McDonald's, but it cost all of them energy and sanity.

Adam entered the book store (next on the "fun" afternoon agenda) with few reserves left. What had been envisioned as a long relaxed browse through one of Adam's favourite stores instead became a "dash, grab, buy & leave" mission. Laura and Ryan understood this and were totally prepared to go with Adam's altered agenda.

And then they got to the cash ...

Problem ...

 

 

Laura had forgotten her wallet, and Ryan didn't have any cash either .... Adam was on the ropes, but he held it together.

 

Thinking quickly, Ryan suggested that he could go next door to Walmart and get some cash with his bank card:

 

 

 

When Ryan and Laura were relating this story (post-trip) to Adam's parents, they described their state of high panic in these moments, knowing that Adam was feeling stressed and very close to the edge of what he could manage - they had tried to present a calm exterior, and were hopeful they had not broadcast their distress to Adam. But look at Adam's drawings, the facial expressions, the hand-waving .... he knew their emotional state, he absorbed it, dealt with it and later drew it quite accurately ....

 

Fortunately, the story has a happy ending:

 

 

Ryan was able to get some cash (and chips) at Walmart. Laura and Adam waited in the car (the chips and iPad helped Adam to stay calm) while Ryan ran back to the book store, paid for the items Adam had picked out and brought them to the car. Then they drove home and all separately collapsed.

 

Whew! Triple whew! (one for each of them)

I said at the beginning that this was a story of love, respect, understanding and family ties.

From the earliest days, when Adam was a small, non-verbal, incredibly complex, medically fragile boy, his family has always treated him with respect - seeing him as intelligent with his own view-point and perspective, following at times the faintest of clues to figure out what he needed and wanted, paying attention to his reactions to decide what was tolerable and what was not, giving him choices and power over the direction of his own life, apologizing if they accidentally took him over the edge. As a result, Adam has developed a cool confidence - confidence that he will be heard, that "his people" won't intentionally ask him to do things that are beyond his ability or desire to manage, and that they will understand and help him out when the world coughs up situations that are not reasonable.

Great story, great kid, great family.

Love (and true liking), respect and understanding are the best gifts that families can give to their ASD relatives ... when the world gets tough, it helps to know your family has your back

P.S ... oh, and humour, the story is about humour .... finding comedy in the chaos .... the picture of "there are too many little kids at McDonald's" took over an hour to draw, with Adam periodically pausing, sitting back, reconsidering and adding more and more kids to the picture .... Adam's mom and I were laughing (so hard I had tears in my eyes) and Adam was looking at us sideways and smiling and drawing more kids .... then Adam's dad came in, saw the picture and burst out laughing too .... and when that picture was done, it was scanned and immediately sent out via e-mail for Laura and Ryan to enjoy ... humour is the other key tie that binds this family together ...




note: the concept of ASD individuals having a finite amount of energy to spend daily is well-put by Karla, an ASD adult who is an advocate and a mentor for others on the spectrum (click the link for more information on her "Token Theory"):
Karla's ASD Page - Token Theory

Background Noise - the annoying reality

I want to address a topic today that has a wide impact on all aspects of learning and functioning for most individuals on the autism spectrum - the debilitating effects of background noise. Here is a picture drawn by Brett (who has Asperger's Syndrome) showing his reaction to a regular classroom environment where the other students are chatting. The number in the bottom right-hand corner represents his irritation level (from Tony Attwood's emotional thermometers) - well past the "danger" level, at 100%.

For most neuro-typical people, screening out and damping down background noise is an automatic ability. Many people don't even realize how loud the background noise is until something specifically draws their attention to it. For example, have you ever attempted to audiotape a lecture at school or at a conference? From where you're sitting, the speaker's voice seems perfectly clear, and you have no doubt that the audiotape will be of high quality. Then you go home and try to listen to it - to your great surprise, all you can hear is voices of people in the audience, whispers and rustles, an annoying air conditioning fan from overhead, the sounds of footsteps - the speaker's voice is barely audible and certainly not clear enough to decipher the meaning of what he or she is saying.

Perception and processing of language is an active process involving multiple levels of your neurological system. The raw sound signal that hits your outer ear is a mass of sensory information. Your auditory system goes to work on that signal immediately, with automatic processes turning up the volume of the person you're listening to, and turning down the volume of everything else in the room. Your visual system feeds in information as well, with your eyes picking up non-verbal communication cues that fill in gaps in the auditory signal's information. Your knowledge of language allows your brain to assign meaning to indistinct words by quickly sorting through all of the possible things that might have been said (based on the flow of information). At the same time, your brain also scans the background for important information that you might want to know - like the sound of a fire alarm, or perhaps simply a question from another speaker in the audience that your ear will tune to, so that you can follow the flow of verbal interaction. All of these brain functions happen automatically, in milliseconds, so far below your conscious level of thinking that you are totally unaware of them.

Individuals with ASD may have weak or non-existent abilities to effectively process the raw auditory signal. For them, any group situation is a wash of babbling voices, overwhelming their senses and their ability to think. Often a rise in background noise can cause a behavioural outburst or melt-down. The ASD individuals that I see commonly report that the sound of human voices is more irritating than other environmental noises - it seems that words and language are harder to simply ignore (part of the brain insists on attempting to process the language, even if you don't want to).

Here is a movie created by a young friend of mine named Michael. Michael is verbal, but can have difficulty explaining in words why he does certain things - his drawings can be more revealing about the thought process behind his actions. He often draws pictures in sequences that are very much like animation "storyboards". To encourage this type of expression, I have frequently "translated" his drawings into short Flash movies (by scanning his drawings, importing them into the animation program, and making his drawn "plans" come to life). This short movie clip originated with a spontaneous drawing that Michael made of a machine he called the "blah blah sucker" - a fabulous invention that would suck the annoying words out of the background of his world. The storyboard sequence of "what happens next" was drawn during his session with me - I love the humour that he shows in the ending:

Michael is currently learning how to make animated movies himself, using a simplified version of Flash (called "Koolmoves") that has a more direct user interface than the full Flash animation program (easier to simply work on the screen, choosing tools from a toolbox, but not having to deal with putting items in layers or specifying "tweens" that control the movement pattern between key frames). My hope is that this will provide another channel of expression for him, and perhaps also lead to development of skills that will help him find employment as an adult.

So what's the moral of the story? Pay attention to the environments that ASD individuals are exposed to, especially when you're asking that person to use language, or learn something new. Understand that an ASD student may receive 0% of the verbal information given in class, so they should always have a visual version of the information to look at while the teacher is talking, and a permanent copy given to them to keep for study (don't make them take notes while you talk). Use noise-blocking headphones to subtract background noise during classroom work periods - for students who are self-conscious about standing out, try using ear-bud headphones with a personal music player, so the music can block out the sound of external voices (you may need to experiment to see what "blocking" auditory information is helpful vs. distracting). If the ASD person is participating in an activity where the background noise is high (eg. gym class, social activity like bowling), make sure key information is in a visual format, give information ahead of time (eg. as a social story), and don't expect a lot of conversation out in the hub-bub. Give the ASD student access to quiet spots to work and learn (to be used with your encouragement, but at their discretion). If you're a job coach, pay attention to background noise, when you are assessing co-op and permanent work placements for ASD clients. For family members, make sure the home environment has quiet "escape spots" so that the ASD individual has a chance to get away from the noise and unwind, decompress and recharge - make home a haven from the chaos they must constantly deal with out in the larger world.

This is another example of how important it is to have a way to look at the world through the "eyes of autism". Drawing about difficult situations reveals key information that helps those of us on the "outside" to unravel, understand and find solutions to the challenges that every-day life presents for those living on the spectrum.