Friday, June 23, 2017

Still Face Experiment and Our iPhones?

During my first DIR/Floortime course we were introduced to the Still Face Experiment. In this research, a parent is asked to interact with their baby by responding to the baby's coos and gestures. The babies in the experiment use gestures, babbling, and their affect to interact with their parents. The beginning of the experiment reflects Stanley Greenspan's theory that a baby's first understanding of cause and effect is not at 9 months when they pull a bell on a string like Piaget theorized, but is instead much, much earlier when the child first learns he can interact with his parent through pre-verbal communication such as smiles and coos. It's here that not just communication is born, but also a child's sense of self. In these moments babies learn that everything from their gross motor movements to their babbles can have meaning.

In this video of the experiment, the baby points and the mom looks to where the baby points, honoring the baby's motor planning and intent to communicate. Then the parent is told not to respond to the baby's attempts to interact. I find myself becoming physically uncomfortable every time I watch this part of the video. The baby becomes desperate to interact with the mother, and tries everything until finally shrieking, crying, and turning away from the mother. At the end of the experiment the mother is able to comfort her child.

The first time I saw this I had an immediate sick feeling in my stomach. Not just for the baby in the video, but I saw uncomfortable parallels for my own child and my phone. Yes, the great iPhone. The very thing that kept me sane in those middle of the night feedings, and allowed me to form great bonds with friends across the country as we sent each other "Will this baby ever stop eating? I may never get up from this chair" texts. The phone gave me sanity during those infant days. But what about now? How often have I unknowingly reacted this experiment with my own children, honoring their communication attempts during play, and then suddenly stopping and going cold when I get a text, email, or even a Facebook post I "have to" respond to right away?

The behaviorist side of me thinks "It's good for children to learn to wait. Even from a young age children should know that mommy will go away for a minute and then come back. The world does not revolve around them." But watch the child in the video. Mom is there, but not. With our iPhones, it's just a thin rectangle suddenly in between mom and the child. How does the child know why the iPhone is suddenly more important than their coos?

How many of us are creating this experiment on a daily basis, over and over again, and not honoring our children's attempts to communicate because of this tiny little rectangle that constantly takes precedent over them? Our children have learned of course, that this is a part of daily life. That their parents are there, and then suddenly not there, and then there again, as we toggle back and forth between honoring their sense of agency and then ignoring them while we respond to our phones.

One blog notes that this experiment  while may see the Still Face experiment as a recreation of children growing up in neglectful situations and experiencing a loss of attachment, what it  also shows is an example of a child suffering from a loss of agency.   Our sense of agency is our understanding of how our movements, and actions have meaning in the world. In this experiment, for a brief moment, the baby's emotions, ideas, and thoughts are ignored, suddenly sending a confusing message about how the child is able to interact. Which is exactly what we do to our children when we interrupt their play to check our phones.

I don't mean to write this as a guilt trip for us all. I am hugely guilty of frequent phone checks, and even after wrestling with this question myself for a few months, I'm still guilty of it. But it does make me wonder. I'm trying to be more aware of honoring my children's thoughts and expressions in the moment, and if I can't respond to them I try to tell them exactly why "Hang on, I need to text Daddy and ask him to stop by the store" just so they know I'm ignoring them for a reason, and not just leaving them to flounder alone. I have no idea if that helps. But I suspect there is a connection between the Still Face experiment and how we constantly parent with a phone in our back pocket.


Tuesday, May 30, 2017

True Educational Leadership

In my fourteen years of teaching I've worked for four principals. One I try not to think about much, but I have been very lucky to work for the other three. I admire each of them as leaders, and know that much of my teaching has been shaped by their leadership.

My most recent principal announced he was leaving us a few weeks ago. I was stunned. He opened our school five years ago. He led us to becoming the first recipient of the National DuFour award. Through his leadership we ended up on the front page of Education Weekly. Educators from around the world travel to our school to observe us at work, in the structure he set up. The school has never existed without him.

Of all the principals I have worked for, he is the one who has impacted my educational philosophy the most. When I first came to our school I was not sure of how much I bought into the Professional Learning Community (PLC) theory. I was skeptical, made worse by the fact that I was on the intellectual disability team and as a new school we were struggling to figure out how to include my team into the PLC process. I've written before about how my opinion of the PLC process changed over time. I went from being skeptical to becoming a true believer. Now, it seems like a crime to have schools operate in any other way.

Beyond coming to be an advocate for the PLC process, my principal also pushed my thinking about education. He constantly challenged our special education team to think about what special education is. What is the purpose behind special education? Why do we put students into special education? What do we do with them once we put them there? Why does a child need a label? What do we do differently for a child once they are in the special education system? Every Wednesday, when we sat in special education eligibility meetings, he pushed us to answer these questions. I know there were times when he knew how I would answer, but he asked anyway. He never wanted us to blindly sign off on a child needing special education services unless we had fully considered the whole child, and whether or not he or she would truly benefit from these services. No child would get pushed through just because. He made our work harder, but he made our work better.

These questions changed how I thought about special education. They made me look beyond my own beliefs, and see that sometimes, despite our best intentions, we do lower our expectations for a child once they are in the special education system. That the IQ number does not always accurately reflect a child's ability, and that we keep pushing, despite what any test says.

In times of conflict, crisis, or uncertainty, he never took the party line. Not the county's party line, or even the school's. He did not care how anything has been done in the past, or how we did it last week. Every decision we ever brought to him he questioned, considered, and then had us justify our thinking. We cannot make lazy decisions, or ones based on institutional knowledge.

One of the rules at my school is that we are not allowed to use acronyms. I want you to spend the next day trying not to use any acronyms. That means you can't say the HOV lane. Take IEP, NOVA, LRE, FCPS, or any other familiar acronyms out of your vocabulary. It's harder than you think! His constant line is "clarity proceeds competence." If not everyone at the table knows what you are talking about, then communication has eroded and you have a problem. He pushes us to be as clear as possible in our language. While I appreciate the theory, it is hard, especially in special education. And frustrating, when you are already nervous in speaking in front of a group, and you utter an acronym by accident and then get called out.

But this practice makes us better. It catches us from using phrases in front of parents that they don't understand - or even phrases general education educators don't understand and are afraid to ask. This also creates a culture of feeling comfortable enough to ask for clarification when one is confused - even in a large meeting.

My principal has changed how I see education. He's challenged the idea of the effectiveness of the individual teacher, working in isolation. He's challenged the idea of why and how we educate children. He's changed my focus in how I see educational outcomes of students with disabilities. Every teacher believes they have high expectations for all children, but he's made me realize that when we say those simple words we often are just doing lip service. If we are truly honest we take away all excuses we may have for a child, we erase our knowledge of anything going on at home, and we truly look only at the child in front of us at that moment.

He taught me that high expectations mean high expectations for all. The goal for every child is to make a year to a year and a half's growth, no matter where they are currently performing or what is going on in their lives. Having an IEP or speaking another language is not an excuse for a child to not make that progress. And as teachers, we need to work together as a team to get the child there, in any way possible.

I've joked that my first four years at this school school was an equivalent in a graduate degree into the PLC process. I was skeptical of the process when I began there, and not even aware of how much I had to learn. After five years I am stunned at my own transformation as an educator. I went from skeptical to full-believer.

Working for him these last five years was an honor, and I cannot imagine where I would be now as an educator if I had not worked at his school. While I cannot image the school without his leadership, I know that how he challenged and changed our thinking will stay with the school even after he leaves. The field always needs someone to constantly push us to look beyond ourselves, and although I will miss him, I know his move is a benefit to the field of education itself.

Sunday, May 28, 2017

DIR/Floortime

It's official - I'm DIR/Floortime certified! 

Don't know what DIR/Floortime is? Until a few years ago, I didn't either. I was sitting in a meeting, listening to people discuss whether or not a child had autism, when the psychologist said - "Oh, he does, he just had DIR/Floortime when he was young."

What? What is that? I'd never heard of this intervention. How is it possible that 1) He received an intervention that worked so well that now a roomful of professionals cannot decide whether or not he has autism. 2) If this intervention is so effective, why have I not heard of it?

I immediately turned to my good friend Google, which introduced me to Dr. Stanley Greenspan, and directed me toward the certification path. The DIR stands for Developmental, Individual, Relationship. This therapy is a way to connect with children through considering their developmental needs, their individual differences, and their relationship to their environment. You connect to a child by following their lead, often through play, (or at least that is what I originally thought). While it is typically a therapy used with children with autism, it can also be used anyone.

I started reading Greenspan's work, and I took one on-line class over the summer a few years ago. I thought I understood the concept pretty well. It made sense to me, so this winter I decided to start the certification process.

The first class was short, and repeated much of the same information I'd read in Greenspan's books. I quickly enrolled in the second class, excited to get started. It was this class that allows for the basic certification. It is a pass/fail class, and when I enrolled I excitedly that it would be a simple way to get my certification. After all, I thought I had a good understanding of the therapy already.

I was wrong. So wrong. I understood the words used to describe Floortime, but I really had no idea what I was talking about - yet. This class, to be quite honest, kicked my butt.

Although I was very familiar with all of the words being used, I didn't actually know their definition through a Floortime lense. It was like being in a foreign country and thinking you understand the language, only to quickly learn you thought you asked to go to the bathroom and you were directed to the swimming pool.

From a meta-cognitive standpoint, it was a fascinating experience. The last time I struggled this much with learning something was my computer science course during college. But, being far more motivated to learn Floortime than I was HTML, I threw myself into this course. The more I realized how much I did not understood Floortime, the more I was determined to learn it, and do it well. I watched the videos my classmates presented and saw the progress kids made in the short, eight minute video clips. Then, I saw the sparks in some of the children I work with. When I started using Floortime techniques with them, I saw the shift. It was remarkable. Magic. Except not magic - science.

But to learn Floortime, I had to unlearn or at least shelve any behaviorist approaches I'd relied on before. In reflecting on my own teaching, I realized that much of what I do, much of what any of us do in the schools, is from a behaviorist model. In order to learn Floortime I had to stop myself from my previous work and start looking at children with new eyes. Behaviors or individual differences I had overlooked before because I didn't consider important, now are essential to understanding the child and how to interact. I find myself watching every child with "DIR eyes" as my mentor calls it.

Who knew that learning to play effectively would be so difficult? I had no idea when I started this process, and yet now I have a whole new understanding of just how powerful peek-a-boo is.

Now that I'm more comfortable with Floortime, I hope to be writing about it more, and hopefully I can explain it here. More importantly, I am ridiculously excited to be officially allowed to practice it. My struggle this winter and spring paid off.

Thursday, May 25, 2017

Age Appropriate Texts - Finding My People!

In the large vender hall of the CEC conference I spied the sign “No Baby Books for Teens” across the room. I quickly realized that I had found my people.


I’ve blogged about the difficulties of finding ageappropriate texts for years now. There is nothing more disheartening then having a fifth grader at a crucial turning point in making huge gains in reading – only to have nothing to hand him except a book with cartoon characters of a sweet turtle and a frog. I am constantly on the search for age appropriate guided reading books, and have become so frustrated with the dirth of materials available that I’d even started to write my own.
But here – in this large booth were racks of books written for high schoolers reading at lower levels. It made me tear up. Someone is listening.

Well, almost listening. I am still looking for books written for fifth graders who are reading on kindergarten to early first grade level. But people, I think we are moving in the right direction.
A Saddle Back rep found me signing happily as a thumbed through titles. I was impressed by the older looking text and pictures, along with the simple language. The rep explained to me that many of the books were written in pairs so that they each had one fiction and one nonfiction corresponding text.

Many of the books are written for high schoolers who just entered the country. The fiction books cover topics that new immigrants may struggle with (fitting in, adapting), while the nonfiction books may cover relevant topics like how to dress for the weather. This is a particular problem for students coming from warm climates who move to Minnesota. However, he said that he was getting feedback from teachers who teach high schoolers with intellectual disabilities. These teachers love the texts because they essentially become social stories that children with intellectual disabilities can read to themselves. These students also need direct instruction on how to dress for the weather each morning, even if they have lived in this climate their whole lives.

The rep sent me away with a few copies to try out with my students. He warned me that many of his texts are written with high schoolers in mind, and so they deal with high school appropriate concepts in first grade language. (This was a big warning to NOT use some of the texts with fifth graders). The texts he sent me with were fifth grade appropriate. I had one of my current clients read one and he loved it. The text was below his reading level, but it is rare he is able to experience reading something easy that is also interesting. It was a great opportunity for us to work on reading comprehension.

So often we just teach decoding to children with learning disabilities. We become so focused on their deficits that we forget the reason we read - to comprehend and gain meaning from those swiggly lines on the page. Without meaning there is no point behind reading.

Friday, April 28, 2017

Fidgets?

I gave up Facebook for awhile, and was surprised to see a great debate raging across my page when I logged back on this morning. This time it was not about Trump, immigration, or even sports - but fidgets. As the fidget companies are starting to market to more parents than teachers and occupational therapists, more and more kids are bringing them to school...  and driving their teachers crazy. I saw some posts about the need to ban them from schools because they have become so distracting.

Ack. I think we are all missing something here.

Fidgets absolutely have a place in school, and you can ban the current popular items, but students will always find something to fidget with if they are so inclined. Shoe laces, pencils, picking at their finger nails, their neighbor's hair. Fidgety fingers will move with or without a designated fidget.

BUT, giving a child a fidget should be purposeful. The idea behind one is that it will help a child concentrate, or help them stay regulated so that they are available for learning. If they are distracting a child then they probably are not doing their job.

So why use a fidget? I am a constant fidget-er myself. I mindlessly grab a paperclip before the start of any meeting, and then fidget it with it under the table. I've snapped pen tops on accident after too much fidgeting, or dropped my rings. The subtle movements help me concentrate on what is going on around me. Many kids (but not all) are like this. If they are constantly seeking tactile or proprioceptive (movement) input, fidgets can be a good way to give them this stimulation while letting them maintain focus in the classroom. If they are told not to fidget they will sit there just thinking about not fidgeting (or about what they'll do on the playground) instead of attending to our lesson.

Sometimes we need to use a fidget as a replacement behavior. A child may do something that is slightly self-harming like mindlessly pulling out his eye lashes, picking at a scab, or pulling off her fingernails. Or something that is disruptive to the classroom environment like pulling at a string on the classroom rug, mindlessly unscrewing his desk, or constantly touching the teacher's materials during a lesson. A fidget will give them the sensory need they are seeking, but in a safer or more socially acceptable way.

I hear a lot of "kids need to learn to not touch things instead of us pandering to their needs." OK, yes, we want our kids to grow up, have a job, and show socially acceptable behavior at that job. But many adults fidget in a socially acceptable way, and that is what we can teach our kids to do.

Once I started student teaching in college and had control over the behavior of 25 little people in front of me, I was suddenly driven crazy by all of the adult fidgeting that took place around me in my college classes. Pen clicking, shoe wiggling, paper shuffling, doodling...  I suddenly felt sorry for my professors who had to teach through it instead of doing what I would have done in my classroom - taking away the fidget object or just firmly telling someone to stop. But I had not even noticed the fidgeting before I started teaching. Look around your office and you'll notice all sorts of fidgeting behavior people have taken on in order to help themselves stay regulated and accomplish their tasks. How many people twist their rings while they talk to you? Run their hands through their hair? Play with their keys?

Everyone has different needs, and not ever child needs a fidget even if it is the newest fad. Part of being a teacher is carefully observing the child and recognizing what he or she will need to perform best in the classroom. Sometimes that is not a fidget, but having access to sitting in a different location, having some independent calming moments throughout the day, or even having a chance to watch glitter fall inside a sensory bottle so the child can stay regulated. Fidgets are not a one-size fits all item.

Teaching How to Use a Fidget:
If fidgets are in our classroom we must teach our children how to use them. Just as we would teach our children how to respectfully use the computer, our classroom books, or how to line up quietly, we need to show them how to and how not to use a fidget.

1. Show them the fidget and explain its purpose. "Some kids learn best when their fingers are busy. It helps them concentrate on what the teacher is saying and the work they need to do. I thought you might want to try it too, so I have this for you to try to see if it works."

2. Explicitly show them how to use it. "This tube has a ball in it.  You can push the ball back and forth while you listen to me talk. It needs to stay in your lap. You can keep your hands in your lap while you use this so no one else sees it. Isn't that cool? It's a secret between you and me. If you are using it the right way, no one else will even know. Make sure you keep your eyes on me even when you are using it. Show me how you can do that." Have the child show you exactly how she will use it.

3. Explicitly show them what will happen if they do not use it correctly. "Sometimes we all forget how to use things the right way. If I see the tube out of your lap I will take it away. If you are showing it to another child, I will take it away. If you are looking at the tube and not me, I will take it away."

4. Practice taking it away. "If I need to take it away from you I am not going to say anything. I am only going to look at you and put my hand out. Then you will give me the fidget. I will give it back to you later, when I think you are ready for it. Let's practice that." Have the child act out using it the wrong way and having you put your hand out so the child can give it to you. Do this multiple times so the child understands exactly what will happen when she does not use it correctly.

5. Don't hesitate to take it away (and give it back). When you first let the child use the fidget make sure you follow through on your boundaries. The minute it goes out of the child's lap, put your hand out and have the child give it to you. This way the child knows you were serious. A few minutes later, wordlessly give the fidget back to the child and let him try again.

6. Keep checking in with the child. Make sure you call on the child, or ask for group responses like thumbs up to see if the child is still attending to the lesson with the fidget. If he is not, take it away and let him try again another time.

What about when the whole class complains that they don't have one?

Ah, yes, the "- but that's not fair argument". I think there are a few ways to handle this. I've had classrooms where I just had a fidget basket out so that anyone could get what they need. I did the fidget introduction with the whole class and expected everyone to follow by the rules. It took a lot of practicing how to use and put away the fidgets, but also worked very, very well for maintaining classroom focus during lessons.

At other times I've done a quick lecture on understanding differences. "I went to college and studied how to help children learn. I know that everyone learns differently, and so I carefully watch each of you to see what will help you. At some point during the year I will do something differently for each of you than I will for anyone else."

Another teacher told me recently that during the first week of school she would show the class that she only had 4 band aids. "So, if you get a cut on your finger, I can't give you a band aid because that's not enough for the whole class. It wouldn't be fair to give  you a band aid for your cut and not share the band aids with everyone else." Inevitably a child says, "But that's not fair! They don't all need band aids! Only the kid with the cut needs one!" Which then prompts a great discussion on fairness.

You don't have to buy a fancy fidget!

My all-time favorite fidgets are not ones that I've spent money on. A strip of velcro under the desk often works magic for some children. The child can rub his hand back and forth on the velcro while working - and no one even knows they are doing it.

Is a child picking off their name tag? Put some packing tape under their desk and tell them to pick off the masking tape and not their name tag. Again, no one will even know what they are picking at, their needs are being met, and their name tag remains in tact.

Putting velcro on a craft stick that can be carried around in a pocket is also a simple feature to help with fidgeting behavior on the move. I've also put glitter glue on a craft stick, knowing that the child will most likely pick off the glue. That's fine, but it keeps their hands busy in the hallway and off of friends or the wall.

Ask a child to untangle your headphones. This is also a task that is mostly mindless, keeps their hands engaged, and lets them focus on the lesson. Plus, they think they are helping you. One year I had a basket of "jobs" that I'd keep for moments I needed them. Any tangled headphone, coins that needed to be sorted, or pencils that needed to be sharpened (with a silent sharpener) went in there. Since these are jobs more than fidgets I would check in with the child more frequently to make sure she was still attending to the lesson.

Think about natural fidgets. If you are OK with a child playing with his shoe laces (if he is still listening) then that is fine. It is the same as the fidget, and as long as he is still attending to your lesson, then the child just independently met his own needs. Our long term goal for our children is for them to be independent, and if a child can find a way to appropriately self-regulate then let's not stand in the way of that by forcing them to depend on a fidget when a more natural item would work just as well.

Teacher Reflection
A lot of the fidget debate comes down to looking at ourselves as teachers. I often find that I am more distracted by a child's fidgeting than the children around the child are. I have to check and ask myself "Is this about me or the kid?" If something drives me absolutely crazy then I need to work with the child to find a balance. What is the kid seeking through their fidgeting? How can I help them achieve that without also driving me (or others) crazy? Sometimes we can just ask the child. "I really don't like it when you play with my pointer during the lesson, but I notice you are always touching things. Maybe touching things helps you think. Hmmmm...  is there something else we can find that you can touch so that you are not touching my things?"
Sometimes when we give up a little bit of control we get more of what we want than we had before.

Thursday, April 20, 2017

CEC 2017 - Yes I Can!

I'm currently sitting in my Boston hotel room, looking out at my view of the Prudential building, and trying to wrap my head around everything I took in today at the Council for Exceptional Children conference in Boston. I often leave conferences with a long list of topics I want to blog about, and sometimes never find time to get to those posts down. Hopefully there will be many more posts about the conference to come.

This afternoon I sat in a dark, windowless auditorium watching the rehearsal for the CEC's Yes, I Can Awards. Despite the dreary setting, I found myself moved to tears numerous times by the unbelievable successes these young adults have had. I had read many of their applications, but even so I was not prepared to be so moved by meeting them and their families in person.

The Yes, I Can Awards go to students with disabilities who have made remarkable gains in a given area, whether it is academics, community involvement, self-advocacy, arts, or technology. I've been on this committee for a few years, and am thrilled to finally be able to make it to the conference to watch the awards be announced in person. It turns out that reading their applications just did not do the students justice. I hope my own girls will be as motivated, poised, and confident when they are in high school and college as these students are. Despite everything else going on in their lives, these high school and college students have found a way to not only overcome their disabilities, but also to organize volunteer opportunities, start community groups, and raise money.

Perhaps what moved me the most was talking with their parents. It was like talking to any parent of a high school student. These parents were full of pride as they shared their child's accomplishments, and their child's hopes for the future. Yet these parents have an additional reason to be proud - their children are not just making remarkable gains in school or their community, but they fought long and hard to overcome their disabilities. My eyes teared up as I heard parents share how some of the children were in self-contained classes with teachers and administrators who told them they would never go to college or do anything with their life. Yet here they were - heading off to college, making remarkable grades, participating in sports and art, and breaking through the low expectations of those around them.

I found myself thinking about all of the young children I work with, whose parents are scared of the future, and unsure of what steps to take to help their child be successful. I wish I could take each of the parents I work with and introduce them to the parents of the Yes, I Can award recipients. The hard work, dedication, and relentless advocacy for the best education for their child worked. Two of the students on stage were far more poised and confident than I would have been on stage, despite having a disability that impacts their social interactions with others. It was incredible to see them shine with confidence up there.

If you are here at the convention, I guarantee you should not miss tomorrow morning's award ceremony.



Tuesday, April 11, 2017

Why should we teach social skills through play?

We have a play-based social skills group coming up. Interested? Learn more here.

Think about when you learned to drive. It was exciting and a bit scary, but you were confident that you could get behind the wheel and go. You'd been watching your parents drive for years, and even played driving video games. You were totally ready? Right?

Your parents told you to drive slowly, use your turn signals, and follow the road signs. And maybe you listened to everything they said - when they were watching. When they aren't watching? You explored the limits of your car and the road. 

Now as an adult, you are a better driver than you were at 17. What changed over time? Practice. Experience. Observing those around you and thinking about how you can drive to fit the social norms. Maybe having kids changed your driving because you truly cared about your special cargo. And most likely, somewhere around the way you got some real-life feedback, like getting a ticket, getting into a fender bender, or even a more serious car accident.

Just being told to go slow once - or even many times - did not work for all of us. If it did, our court systems wouldn't be so clogged with traffic court. Yet we often tell our kids something once and expect it to stick.

"Share." 
"Ask a friend if they want to play."
"Be kind."
"When you are angry take a deep breath to calm down!"

We give lots of verbal directions all day, but our verbal directions do not always translate into our children remembering to follow through in the moment. These verbal instructions are the equivalent of the Drivers Ed class before getting behind the wheel. I don't know about you, but I don't remember much of that class other than where I sat and how I figured out how to pass notes without the teacher looking.

It was not until I was behind the wheel that I started to get a sense of what all of that talk had meant, and even later when I put together why it was important to not drive fast or fiddle with the radio while driving. There are things we can identify intellectually as important, but it isn't until we experience them that we truly understand them.

Social skills are like this for our children. Some children may hear the Driver Ed teacher's warning about driving slowly and follow through, but many are going to need to experience it for themselves and need real-time coaching. Some children need direct instruction on what social skills are, how to share, how to greet others, and how to calm down when upset. But that direct instruction is just like our classroom Drivers' Ed time. Without the immediate practice afterwards, all that content is not going to stick. 

Our kids need more. Just like we did, they need real-time coaching to help them see when to apply these new skills. While driving they need someone to help them recognize when to hit the breaks, when to speed up, and which road signs to pay attention to, and which can be ignored. Sometimes they need to have the car pulled over to the side of the road for a quick re-grouping before getting right back onto the road.

Navigating social skills can be much harder than driving. Our road signs are color coded so we can easily figure out what those signs mean. Our facial expressions are not. No matter how much we talk to kids about emotions, some kids need real-time coaching to help recognize their peers' social cues, and how to navigate around them.

It can be hard to understand this distinction between the direct instruction and practice when it comes to our kids. We want them to learn something once we teach it to them, and we often think they know something because they can orally describe it. But we could orally describe driving a car from just watching our parents drive a car - that didn't mean we could take the keys and drive without crashing it.

My partner and I mulled over this problem for awhile, because although we loved the social skills group we did this past year, we felt like we were really just being the classroom driving instructors. We hadn't gotten kids out on the road yet. Yet we could see how happy and engaged the kids were with our craft projects - and where our classroom lessons could lend themselves to more.

So we came up with our Tinker Social Skills group. Each group will start with a quick social skills focus, before getting into the time for actual practice. The kids will be given the assignment of creating a model playground out of re-purposed materials like paper towel tubes, straws, strings, and boxes. This project is going to require them to form an idea in their head of what they'd like to create, and then come up with a plan to do it. This first step will work on their executive functioning skills, and we will be there to coach them through this. As they work they will be sure to face challenges when their plan does not turn out as expected. This too, will create great opportunities for us to coach them on how to recover from disappointment and develop a new plan. Because we will be working in a group, we will also have lots of opportunities to work on sharing materials and space. As the children show us they are ready for greater collaboration, we will assign open-ended partner projects to continue to challenge them.

And because none of us learned how to drive just from the behind-the-wheel period in Drivers' Ed, the end of each class will bring the parents back in so that the parents can learn what we did, the language we used, and ways to continue coaching their child through these social skills at home.