Quick Tidbits

I’ve been having my own form of writer’s block for the past few weeks. I can’t tell you how many blog posts I have started that now sit idle in the Drafts folder. I will get to them, I promise. In the meantime, I decided to give some practical tips that I’ve learned/been reminded of by some of my new clients. We can always use tips, right?

  • For some of my older clients on the spectrum, a lot of anxiety is reduced when they are given the whole picture or situation first. We tend to assume that they will not be able to process everything at once, but giving information in little pieces (especially if they are directions) can also make them anxious because they don’t know what’s next. What I’ve learned to do is to give the overview first, and then each step afterwards as we hit it. For example: “Okay, we’re going to make lemonade today. We’ll need lemons, water, and sugar so that we can mix them together.” Boom, I just summarized the entire recipe. After I did that, the client walked me through the process, asking when he needed clarification. While he is what would be considered “higher functioning,” he still needed the anxiety reduction.
  • Many kids love the feeling of independently doing and choosing for themselves. Even if it is not a true choice (say, choosing between your two choices), the illusion of choice can be a great asset. I try to give my clients choices whenever I can. Sometimes they bounce the ball back into my court for me to decide, but I offered them the choice, and that goes a long way.
  • To my fellow workers: it is really easy to assume that a parent is just being bossy, lazy, whatever trait you believe you’re seeing that week. Try to step into that parent’s shoes. Most of us get to go home at the end of our day. For those of us without kids, we go home to stillness (most of the time). For our clients’ parents, their challenges and triumphs continue long after we’ve gone home. It’s just a few hours a week for us…it’s 24/7 for them.
  • That being said, workers, know your boundaries. You have to take care of yourselves before you can take care of anyone else. Our clients can pick up when we’re tired, hungry, or just plain pissed about something…and the result is usually a less than stellar session. Parents, we go through a different kind of burnout. We are not just worrying about the well-being and future of your child; we often have several more families we have to put equal energy and time into (or dozens more if you’re a case manager). We’re not trying to be rude or mean if we hold our ground on session times or availability. We’re trying to make sure we can continue to be the best that we can be for all of our clients, including you.
  • Workers, think outside the box. Not just with your clients, but also in regards to your job/position in an organization/your own practice. What are your strengths? How can you use them for the betterment of your organization/practice? Are you doing things that others are not? If others are doing it, do you have a unique spin or voice to bring to the table? Is there something you see in your client that others don’t?
  • This one goes to everyone: have fun. I’m serious. I work mostly with kids, and I see so many instances of family and workers alike getting so wrapped up in the goals and the data that they forget that they are dealing with a kid. I celebrate when a client has a “kid moment.” In that moment, autism wasn’t some horrific veil hanging over their heads (according to everyone around them). Autism was a way to really feel the sunshine and the wind, to appreciate every color dancing across a bubble. Autism led to a laughing fit to end all laughing fits. I’m not trying to downplay the challenges of this type of neurodiversity. It is a tough road to tread, nearly impossible at times. What I am saying is to really be in the present when it comes to those moments where the child is just being a child. I dare say that maybe, just maybe, you may want to join them there.

The Bridge: The Approach

So I decided to title the series The Bridge, since that is essentially what you’re doing in this line of work. I hope that the series helps not only workers (whether a Specialist, Interventionist, Counselor, etc.) who are anxious about entering into this field, but also autistic people who may wonder why the heck we do what we do sometimes.

The first session is always the scariest one. Here’s the truth: no matter how experienced or confident you are, you’re going to be nervous. It’s a brand new client, and a brand new family. You (hopefully) know that you cannot approach this client exactly the same way you approach others, because you know that if you’ve met one autistic person…you’ve met one autistic person.

So what is the first thing you do? Jump straight into what they’re doing? Parallel play nearby? Redirect them to an activity of your choosing?

Me? I observe.

I usually tell the family that the first session is the introduction session and that I’m taking mental notes. In my silence, I start to answer several questions and make observations. Let’s use a kiddo I will call Peter as an example. Peter will be a composite of several different clients I’ve had in the past. He will also be a younger client since many of you that the series is intended for probably work in early intervention. I will rotate my example clients throughout the series.

So when I walk into Peter’s room, the little tyke is paying me little to no attention. He is walking around, humming to himself, and then briefly makes eye contact. I make a mental note of about how long the eye contact was (maybe one second) and will keep an eye on how many times he does it. He then retreats into a corner of the room, on the other side of the bed. So he has some kind of coping skill; he knows when to remove himself from a situation if he feels anxious or unsafe. I don’t follow him over.

While he is there, I ask his parents for some information: preferred toys, daily routine (I take another mental note if there is a lack of one), gross motor activities (does he do a lot of jumping, running, spinning?), family participation (do siblings engage or not, and what is his usual response?). Is Peter overly cautious, or does he throw fear to the wind?

I’m not writing any of this down, but I am starting to build a Peter profile of sorts in my head. All of us do this to some degree with people in our lives, and I assume that Peter is doing something similar with me. These first impressions set the stage for the entire process, so I don’t want to cause him any unnecessary fear or anxiety. The biggest thing I try to avoid is pushing myself into his safe zone too much. For session one, I just want him to know that I am there, I will be coming back, and that I want to play. I tell him this at the start and the end of the session; just because he’s not looking at me, doesn’t mean he’s not listening.

Goal of session one: Recon

For session two, I plan to come baring items of interest.