Better than Me

Tuesday night Jim and I began a six-week Life Planning Project course offered locally by Home of Guiding Hands. Designed to get us on the same page proactively envisioning Reid's future as we age (ahem) and eventually exit planet earth.

Going around the table, each parent complied with the direction to give a trait they're most proud of and a personal motto as way of introduction. After we'd all taken turns the facilitator, herself a parent of a 19 year old on the spectrum, observed that we could spend the remainder of the evening debating the age old chicken and egg question. Did we develop those traits because of our child with special needs or were they given because we'd surely need them for the assignment?

I wrote "resourceful" on my sticky note but another mom shared "empathy" as hers. That uncanny ability to know what someone is thinking without them expressing it comes in handy when your kids are non-verbal! Jim commented when we first did our Strengthsfinder inventory, how perfectly that served me in Reid's younger days.

Whether God gave it for the job or I learned it from Reid, this verse hit me between the eyes this morning:

Before they call I will answer; while they are yet speaking I will hear. Isaiah 65:24

The Lord God's empathy far surpasses mine or hers. His ability to do all things is the source of our ability to do anything. He is the author of empathy and every other positive character trait anyone could cite. Anything I can do He can do better. And...because he is so empathetic, he knows what I need before I even figure out how to ask for it. I just have to get out of His holy way. So I am stepping aside to let the Master have his way.

In the mood for a cheesy visual from the musical archives? Click here. They got their pronouns reversed in these lyrics from Annie Get your Gun. Reverse the pronouns and let it rattle around in your head today as a prayer to the Father, "Anything I can do YOU have done better..." make a sunset.... create a brain... design a salvation plan.... payback a double portion... color fruit... love your neighbor... pair up twins... allow that trial....

Gotta work on those rhymes, but you get my point?

Top 10 Tuesday

Top 1o Things I Appreciate about Reid's New School

10. their intentional "Empathy, Invitation, Plan" approach

9. a preponderance of male staff (which is a subtle but critical component to Reid's adolescence and my husband's engagement)

8. allowance for some naturally occurring elbowing and shoulder tapping (who wants to raise a robot)

7. the "practice makes permanent" (not perfect) ideal

6. true partnership with parents

5. daily interaction with the local community (this is valuable even when it, especially when it breaks down)

4. a careful, positive use of the power of words to affect behavior

3. the cohesive team approach of the staff and students

2. a palpable acceptance kids can feel (which fundamentally enables them to trust teachers enough to be vulnerable and learn)

1. the occasional photo text they send that's worth a thousand words (see left)

Last June when it became obvious we had to find a new placement for Reid, we revisited a place I had loved 3 years prior. Pioneer Day School has only improved since then and retained it's intentionally small size.

The teddy bear of a director sat catty corner from me at a conference table explaining the founding principles of his school. Resisting the urge to hug this man, I leaned back--likely scooched my chair away--so as not to block my husband from catching the full drift of truth he was speaking. I wanted them to relate man-to-man. As Mr. Banks said in Mary Poppins, "Enough of this slipshod, sugary, female way of thinking."

Hearing about empathy, social thinking, music instruction, and kinesthetic learning from a beefy man who's educated dozens of challenging boys is very different than hearing your wife say, "let's wait til he's calm to finish the homework." Jim Leiner described how he trains his teachers to first give empathy (ie. "I know this must be hard for you Billy, math was always difficult for me too"); then offer an invitation ("If you'd like I can show you something I learned that helps); and make a plan ("How 'bout if we do 5 problems today and save the rest for tomorrow?")

In one sitting, what my husband used to perceive as "coddling" became logical, within reason, even wise. We listened (well actually, I nodded like a bobble-headed dashboard ornament) then toured the school. This move would represent a return to our original follow-your-gut instinct on what was best for Reid. By moving him, we would abandon the "research-based," straight behavior mod program for something far more holistic. It was a battle between the head and the heart for both of us.

As we got out to the curb in front of the building, I refrained from jumping for joy. I don't like to stack the deck or be subjective. (ha!) My new intention these days is to submit to my husband's wisdom.

Our other set of eyes was a dear friend Kate, who has credentials up the wazoo from evaluating classrooms around the world for a living. Even at first glance observing the classrooms of Pioneer, Kate noticed countless examples of student work and real curriculum which indicated a place of learning. This was a vivid contrast to the starkness of the previous place where the curriculum really was behavior.

Was it just me? Or was this gonna be unanimous? After giving her professional opinion, Kate asked the obvious, what did I think? As I stifled my enthusiasm still wanting Jim to arrive at his own clarity, she ribbed me with the now infamous line, "He had you at empathy!" She knows me too well.

Confirmation came after the 30-day placement meeting where the aide, director and teacher reported how Reid had taken to this place like a fish to water. The most pleasant surprise was that he had done a page of division problems after being shown and invited to practice. (Another distinction since the previous placement had removed him from the diploma track and all but tabled academics in favor of teaching compliance.)

As we left that meeting my husband elbowed me in the ribs, "ok now I wanna hug the guy!" (I resisted the irony of yapping back, "hands at your side; personal space.")