Modifying Behavior?

When you read all the treatment articles, you get the idea that your child's behavior MUST be modified. We tend to disapprove of behaviors that seem out of place in our culture, like hand-flapping, crawling under tables and chairs in public places, or expressions of defiance. What you don't read, is how the behavior of all those in contact with the autistic person must also be modified. It can be a matter of protecting your child or sometimes, mental survival.

Life will never be the same after autism. Nor should it. If you think about it, life is never the same after having any child - even a "normal" one. They don't have instruction manuals, so you learn as you go. The behaviors we change in ourselves may be different, but we all change upon becoming parents. What I find interesting is that with an autistic child, you watch others - some not even related - change too.

Example 1 - A simple Bus Ride to School
We'll start with the bus ride to and from school. Matt had this "thing" about being first in line. When ever we went somewhere, Matt had to go first. First to get in the car, first to get out. First to go in a door, first to go out. By pure luck, Matt even got on the bus first each morning - he just happened to be the first address on the bus's morning route. His driver, a gentle giant of a man that was brave enough to drive a school bus in his retirement, bonded with Matt immediately. We called him, "Mr. J".

Matt came home one day upset and in tears. Mr. J explained to me that when the bus arrived at the school for the return trip, that the other teachers had brought their students out before Matt's class was released, and these same students got on the bus first, before Matt. When Matt was brought to the bus he didn't even want to get on, his tears flowed like a river. It was terribly upsetting to Matt to deviate from his routine, but his tears were even more upsetting to Mr. J.

The next day Matt was all smiles as he leapt from the bus, practically dancing his way up the driveway toward the house. I looked at Mr. J quizzically. He informed me that the other teachers brought their students out to get on the bus and he refused to let them on until Matt arrived. He informed them that Matt was to be first on the bus from then on.

Behavior modification . . . the teachers, the other students, even Mr. J's. It was a trend that soon became the norm.

Example 2 - Matt's first day in a regular classroom.
Matt had a homebound teacher his first year of services, then attended a school out of district for the next 4 years. In his last 2 years at that particular school we had him spend parts of his day in a regular classroom. His paraprofessional, Jane, would go with him each time and he seemed to be handling the transition fairly well. His next IEP meeting brought a whirl of changes. We were wanting Matt to enter a regular classroom permanently, and we were transferring him back to our own district. Matt would need a paraprofessional all day. Someone to keep him focused, calm his nerves, teach him routines, etc. We had it all in writing, in that wonderful legal document, the infamous IEP. As part of the transition I wanted to hold Matt back a grade. He was entering a new world with new routines and new faces. At least the material covered in the class should be familiar, something he could do well, and raise his self esteem. Thus Matt entered the 3rd grade (again). He was 9 years old.

His first day was a lesson in behavior modification.

His new teacher, Connie, had been my oldest son's teacher and she was familiar with Matt (I had brought him with for parent-teacher conferences). A sweet lady with a genuine love of children and excellent, creative teaching strategies. The principal, Leon, didn't know Matt.

We walked into the classroom and looking around, I saw no signs of an aide. "Where's his aide?" "They don't have one for him", Connie replied. "You can't teach the class if Matt has no aide, it's unfair to you, to the other kids, and to Matt." I headed for the principals office. "He doesn't get an aide just for him. We'll wait and see if the classroom needs one. If we do need an aide in the classroom, she'll help all the children, not just Matt - he won't have his own personal aide", Leon informed me - using that "I am the great and powerful OZ" voice. We argued. He wasn't budging, nor was I. It was time for behavior modification - Leon's.

I left, knowing that the 3rd grade class rooom was about to undergo Armageddon. I drove home and upon walking in my door, immediately picked up the phone and called the head of the school board. I had an IEP - a legal contract of how my child would be educated and I was ready for a fight. She defused me. Her voice sincere as she assured me she would investigate the problem. I spent the rest of the day worried, waiting for the time I could go back to the school and rescue Matt.

When I arrived you could see the relief in Connie's eyes. Matt had refused to sit in the chair, preferring to lay on the floor in defiance. He had locked himself in the bathroom for hours. He cried, he withdrew. She had no time to teach her class. The other students were left to watch the emotional collapse of both Matt and the teacher. It had been one hell of a day. The principal caught us on the way out and sheepishly announced that an aide would be there the next day.

The next day Jane was there! I'm sure she was worried, having heard about the previous day's events, but she showed no fear. She knew Matt, and more importantly, Matt knew her. The day went beautifully. Matt did all his work, stayed at his desk, and completed the day uneventfully. See? Told you he needed an aide . . .

Whose behavior had been modified? Certainly the principal's. He was all smiles that afternoon. Certainly the teacher's. She was able to teach and show all the students the attention they deserved. Definately Matt's behavior. Simply giving him someone to help him focus on the work and off of his fears - a new school, a new room, and new people - had helped tremendously. The principal talked to Matt almost everyday after that, always smiling. Connie paid special attention for signs of distress and would call if she feared a problem. Jane kept Matt safe and focused. Feeling safe allowed the learning to take place.

Matt became an honor roll student that year, building his self esteem. Me? Well my behavior was modified too. I found I could go from "pleasant and concerned mom" to a "woman to be dealt with" in 2.3 seconds when my children needed me.

So don't be afraid of change. Change can mean righting a wrong, learning something new, taking the next step. Allow your own behavior to be modified along with your child's. Teach others about what's needed, stand up for your kids. All parents want what's best for their kids, but sometimes we allow others to convince us they know better. In the end, it's the parents that initiate change.