Critical Thinking, Declaration of Independence, And of course Love...

A brief but meaningful conversation with a grade 4 student. A thread of conversation with an old high school teacher. And an assertion of independence...a declaration if you like.

These three scenarios swirled around my head as we headed for home. Morgan and I. He did so well in his speech class today, articulating the words for his biscuit, "Grr-hmmm" (graham), "eyes", and the sound of his favorite farm animal, goose, "wak-wak". Another blessing. Another wonderful, wonderful moment to be thankful for. While we were nearing our house, a question popped inside my head or more like a question asked by most parents especially when their children are newly diagnosed, reappeared. "Until when will my child need therapy?" The real question and worry behind this question is really about the heavy burden of the finances that go with therapy, special education, check-ups, tests and such. This disorder, after all, do not affect only the "financially able" sector of families. And even with those who are supposedly "financially able", it is still a concern not to be taken lightly. Another reality and perhaps a more important one than money is whether our children will ever be able to recover from autism, will they ever be able to be included in society? Will our children ever be considered "ok" according to the norms of society?

So until when will our children need therapy? Until when will they need help? The answers differ variably depending on the progress of the child. All parents are hopeful that their children will be mainstreamed, enrolled in regular school eventually, included in the normal society, be able to participate productively in the community as relatively "normal" individuals. Some of them do get into mainstream education. Some of them don't. Some of them excel quite well when put in the regular education with ever consistent follow-up at home and from the therapists. And some of them function well even without the mainstream education. And some of them will need therapy varying according to their needs for as long as they live.

Where am I going with all this? Let me describe the three scenarios wandering about in my head right now.

The brief but meaningful conversation with the 4th grade student.

Let's call him Francis (not his real name). Francis used to have socialization classes with us at the center for several months last school year and the school year before that. He was diagnosed to have high functioning autism, commonly known as Asperger's Disorder. As with any "aspie's", he had considerable challenges in socialization particularly on empathy. The ability of a person to put himself in another one's shoes. It would range from as simple as grabbing a pen because he wanted to borrow it instead of requesting permission first to more serious ones such as when he is teased, he reacts to the "bullies" by being physical with them instead of informing the teacher. There was a point in time where we feared we had to advise his parents to transfer him to a smaller school. But thankfully, the parents really did their part in following through at home, being consistent with him with the social skills training. More than anything though, his parents gave him all the love and unending patience and support. And that I think, did it. They willingly persevered. So when I met him again in the main campus, I asked how he was. As bluntly as he could possibly answer, he replied, "I'm okay ma'am Bea. Some classmates still tease me but I tell the teacher right away." "Wow! Good job, Francis!" He smiled. I further said, " We miss you at the sped center. Don't you miss your sped teacher?" To this question, he responded, in a matter-of-fact tone, "No, Ma'am Bea. I don't need her help anymore." At this reply, I smiled with all my might, so proud of him and at the same time so amused at his reasoning and trail of thought in answering my question. Well, yeah sure, clearly, he still has some issues on empathy, bluntly telling me that he needs no help anymore when I asked him whether he missed his teacher. But to actually assert himself, that he's doing alright, that he can already manage, is one big milestone achieved for this 10 year-old kid with Asperger's. Wait, let me rephrase that...This smart 10 year old kid.

Next scenario. A short thread of conversation with an old high school teacher. Let's call her Miss A. She was my World History Teacher in senior year. And she gave me a D in current events the final level of exams. Yes, a failing grade in that itsy bitsy area of learning in Social Studies. But it's okay because I deserved it anyway. I was an apathetic student back then with no intention of learning about what went on in Philippine Politics. She drove us nearly mad with her constant grilling to think analytically, think critically, understand the motivations, understand why kings conquered nations, so on and so forth. In our oral exams which we called "conferences" , we knew better than to sit there and not be able to provide good answers to the questions she bombarded us with. And when I mean good answers I mean, you better know why your answer is like that because she is sure as hell gonna ask you why you came up with that answer even if it was correct. Our recent thread of conversation went on like this:

Me: Miss A, you look as youthful as you did 15 years ago when you taught us World History.

Miss A: Oh no, An, I feel like a hundred years old. Especially with the students here (foreign country, wont' mention where) very "badlongon!" (naughty or undisciplined)

Me: Lupig pa sa ka badlongon namu Miss? (Even naughtier or undisciplined than we were before, Miss?)

Miss: Wa pa tawn mu ka one fourth nila! (You were not even more than one fourth naughtier or undisciplined than them)

I am now nearing 32 years old, I have a family of my own. And my World History teacher is still teaching students, living out her passion, no doubt, drilling into their heads to think analytically, think critically, think well. She is one teacher who never gives up despite the type of students she handles, foreign or non-foreign ones, naughty or well-mannered ones. I will always be grateful to her. I will always remember her gumption and passion. She taught me to find what I love, do what I love and to do it well. And if somebody will ask me if I miss her, my reply would be and emphatic "yes!". Unknowingly, she has become one of my mentors of which I have only realized her true value now that I have my own family,two boys to raise, and autism in our lives to deal with everyday. Because mind you, every single day, I have squeezed my mind like one who squeezes an orange to make orange juice to understand my boys, understand the workings of autism on the brain, understand the motivations of people I deal with almost to the point of being psychic. Now isn't that what you call critical thinking? Thank you Miss A. :-)

Third scenario. This afternoon. One of our students arriving at the center saying, "No more sped teacher. Only Teacher Ingrid and Teacher Mary (not their real names)." This kid was the first one to be mainstreamed from our center. He has done so well in regular class since. But his neuro-developmental pediatrician has not recommended his parents to stop his special education classes yet since he still has some areas to work on. But adamantly so, he feels, like Francis, the smart 4th grader, that maybe he doesn't need help anymore too. Another assertion, declaration of independence. Again, I smile at the thought with pride and hopefulness. I expressed out loud, " We'll get there soon." His mother added, "In God's perfect time." He then went inside upon his sped teacher's prodding.

Francis and our kid at the center asserted that they don't need the sped teacher's help anymore. I miss my old high school teacher. Two very different reactions, it may seem to be. But when I look really deep enough, I think these two kids share the same reaction as mine. Even with autism on the front lines, their assertion and declaration of independence is actually a way of showing their therapists and teachers, " Look what you've taught me. Look how well you've taught me. I can do it now. I can do it on my own." And I think that this is by far a greater show of appreciation for all the teachers and therapists who helped them come so far.

So in the end, while it does matter until when therapy and special education services are need for our kids financially, the bigger question, the bigger reality that matters is how much our kids have achieved right until this very day. How far they have come, how many milestones they have reached, how deeply they have connected with our world with their own hard work and perseverance. Living with autism has taught me one good lesson, and that is to celebrate moments as they happen, wonderful ones even the not so wonderful ones. And it doesn't matter how long therapy and special education is needed for my two boys for as long as they continue to help my little prince and feisty king accomplish everyday milestones.

There's this slogan that I love: "UNDERSTANDING AUTISM IS NOT THAT DIFFICULT. START WITH LOVE AND THE REST WILL FOLLOW."

Start with love, continue with never-ending patience, support, perseverance. End with love and all the questions in the world would not matter. The rest will surely follow--our children's progress, growth and improvement will happen.

I remind myself of this everyday. And I am sure in my heart of hearts, the day will surely come when my two boys will also emphatically and adamantly say, "I don't need help from my teacher anymore." In God's perfect time...

With a Skip in My Heart

Morgan just discovered a new, more fun way of getting from point A to point B-- skipping! This was a week ago. We were having our home program at the guest room. When he saw our new spring bed installed, he skipped! With his chinese-y eyes already disappearing and all of his teeth showing in delight, he climbed on the bed and began to skip and jump. His smile was so contagious and he had so much fun I had to join him too.

Our feisty king is a character all on his own. So different from Garret. He seems to have a plan all mapped out in his head that nothing or no one could ever try to stop him if he decides to do things or not to do things. Every time he is asked to do something, whether it is in sped class, therapy or normal everyday things at home, he seems to have this perpetual skeptical look that seems to ask, "What's in it for me?" Of course, his teachers and therapist does not let him get his own way. Work needs to be done and he needs to learn. He certainly is one feisty king. Morgan started his Sped Class last December. And it is only for the past two weeks that he has finally learned to sit down and comply to the tasks given to him without the tantrums, whining, crying and all. What an amazing relief and achievement, my feisty king has reached. The only problem is, once he has set his mind to do the things in sped class or practice for their performance for the program tomorrow, he does not like to rest. He just wants to go on and on even it is scheduled time to rest. Morgan has come so far. And I am so proud of him. My heart is skipping every single day that he goes to class behaved and compliant but most of all happy learning things.

By this time, those of you who have read my previous notes must know already what a sentimental mother I am, maybe o-a to an extent, making the little achievements of my kids exponentially amazing. Well, one of the lessons, I've learned as a mother-- nothing is ever small, mundane and ordinary when it comes to my kids. Ever heard of the term, "Love my own"? Well, I am one very good example. I am fiercely proud of what little progress my kids make. Be it learning how to skip, or blow bubbles, or learning how to sit down and comply to tasks without a hint of crying, whining or complaining-- I celebrate it all. I celebrate my children every single day.

Yesterday, a fellow parent expressed her concern how she wished her child would also learn how to behave like our kids as her own child was still newly enrolled in our sped program. Really apprehensive whether her child could ever learn to sit down and wait quietly, I could see the desperation in her eyes. I responded to her, "We will get there, Ma'am. You will get there. Your child will get there soon. Patience is all we need to have and of course consistency in discipline at home and in school." I added, " We have special children so it goes without saying that the challenges we have in parenting our children are special as well. Our parenting skills are greatly challenged and put to the test. The most important thing you need to know is that you can do this. Your child can do this." She seemed appeased for a little while. But like I said, like all mothers, I know she will always worry. When we love someone more than life itself, there is no question why we worry the way we do. Eventually, though, I know her worries will be dissolved little by little, one day at a time as she sees progress one step at a time. And she will learn to celebrate all the little things. And she will learn that when it comes to her child, there are no small things, only great possibilities. And her heart too will be skipping with joy and no longer with doubt and fear.

Today after our practice at the Superdome for our performance tomorrow together with the Toddlers and Playgroup Class, we brought our boys back to the center for a little session with Teacher-Mama, yours truly. Morgan was still so hyped-up that I made him do obstacle courses; slide, jump on the trampoline, tunnel crawling and end task shape sorting. He complied readily smiling his toothy grin. Garret on the other hand did some table top shape sorting activity as well. Who would ever think, in a million years that I could handle my two boys with two separate activities one after the other in one session? We have certainly come so far. Another cause for celebration. Oh and when it was time to sort the heart shape object, Garret uttered the word---"heart". And oh, how my heart skipped!!!

My boys, together with the other 11 kids at the Sped Center will be performing a prayer song entitled, " If I were a Butterfly" to open the Toddlers and Playgroup program tomorrow morning. And it will be held at the biggest venue in our city. Garret is the fish and Morgan is the worm. And they'll each be thanking God tomorrow that they can giggle with glee and be squirming like they should be....Here are the lyrics, so you'll know what I'm talking about:


If I were a butterfly,
I'd thank you, Lord, for giving me wings;
And if I were a robin in a tree,
I'd thank you Lord, that I could sing;
And if I were a fish in the sea,
I'd wiggle my tail and I'd giggle with glee;
But I just Thank You Father, for making me - ME!
'Cause you gave me a heart and
You gave me a smile
You gave me Jesus, and
You made me His Child
And I just Thank You, Father
For making me - ME!
If I were an elephant,
I'd thank you, Lord, by raising my trunk;
And if I were a kangaroo,
I'd hop, hop, hop, right up to you;
And if I were an octopus,
I'd thank you, Lord, for my good looks;
But I just Thank You, Father, for making me - ME!
If I were a wiggly worm,
I'd thank you, Lord, that I could squirm;
And if I were a crocodile,
I'd thank you, Lord, for my big smile;
And if I were a fuzzy-wuzzy bear,
I'd thank you, Lord, for my fuzzy-wuzzy hair;
But I just Thank You, Father, for making me - ME!

After all is said and done, after all the processing and denial, acceptance and intervention, we will all realize that we are made the way we are for a beautiful purpose. And to be simply alive is reason enough to be thankful and to celebrate. I think this may be the greatest lesson my kids have taught me, what Autism has taught me.

Today, tomorrow and everyday, I thank and celebrate the Giver of Life for my boys, for my partner, for the life I have been given...with a smile on my face, not unlike the charming kind my little prince gives and just like how my feisty king expresses his joy, skipping--with a skip in my heart!