I’ve always intended on writing more on this blog about my daughter, Raeann, and our family’s experience of her autism. I think this would be a good time to start.
For 3 years now Raeann has been a member of the Frederick Children’s Chorus. This is an excellent regional chorus which performs in several concerts throughout the year. On Saturday, Feb 8th, they joined up with the Glorystar Children’s Choir from Potomac, MD, for a chorus and jazz music festival. They rehearsed together that day and then performed in concert that evening. It was a wonderful performance, divided into segments where the choruses took turns on stage either singing in their individual choruses or as a combined group.
Just before intermission, both choruses returned to the stage to perform a couple of songs together. As the children were arranging themselves on the risers, I saw Raeann come out along the front row and hesitate. I could tell something wasn’t quite right. She knows where she’s supposed to be and who should be with her, but apparently those two weren’t matching up right. She stood with a look of fear and bewilderment, and unfortunately, maybe her parents were the only ones to notice at first. The kids took their places and Raeann stayed put where she was on the left side of the front row. The conductor from the Glorystar group took her place on the elevated step in front of the choruses, and the singing began.
Maybe 20 seconds into the song, Raeann obviously came to a decision. She was definitely not in the right spot. While continuing to sing, she stepped forward! There were microphones set up along the front of the stage, and for the briefest instant I thought to myself, “My god! Does she have a solo?!!” Uh, not so much.
Now, I would think that most kids, if they were in her shoes and actually came to the decision that they needed to move to another spot during the song, would step over quite directly and quickly – a second later and the switch would be made. Raeann, on the other hand, calmly stepped out as if in a wedding march! I can only imagine what the conductor was thinking as this strange girl from the other chorus decides to go on her own little walkabout right in the middle of a performance! Raeann walks forward to the front of the stage past the microphones – still singing – and turns left. She walks behind the conductor’s back (in between the conductor and the audience), across the front of the stage and then turns left again to rejoin the chorus in the front row, now on the right side of the stage. She never stopped singing.
Andrea and I sat there, mortified, through the whole procession. I don’t know if Raeann felt any better in the new location, but at least she did stay put the rest of the way.
After the show Raeann felt bad about what had happened and where she had been. Thankfully, her conductors from FCC took it in stride and didn’t make a big deal out of it. Hopefully, Raeann has been able to learn a lesson here. As it turned out, several kids were in the wrong location, apparently as a result of the other conductor switching the placement of the alto and soprano sections, as compared to what the FCC kids were used to.
Raeann’s decision to move, I think, provides an interesting window into the workings of this autistic mind. She knew she should stand in place. She knew she should be in HER place. When there was a conflict between the two, she judged it more important to get in her place than to remain in place during a song. Her ability to assign appropriate priorities of importance is somewhat off. She was probably oblivious to what her changing position would look like to the audience, as most kids with autism have a hard time assuming someone else’s viewpoint, and perhaps that’s why she didn’t recognize the importance of staying put. There are certain things most people naturally know or understand, that someone like Raeann actually needs to be told. Apparently, don’t go wandering around mid-song is one of them!
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Raeann and Langauge Arts in 8th grade
Just emailed this to few folks; thought I post it here for posterity's sake.
I’m not sure what the solution is here, so I’m looking for any advice. As you know, Raeann requires support at home to get through 95% of her homework. That’s a given and we accept that. For math, science, social studies and other classes that’s generally not too big of a deal. Between the two of us, Andrea and I either know the material or can quickly review a couple of pages in a book and be up to speed enough to provide Rae with the support she needs to get through her homework.
The real problem surfaces in language arts, where she’s required to read several books and then take notes and write summaries, tasks which both absolutely require our assistance. In the last few months she has had to read The Diary of Anne Frank, The Red Kayak, and now Lily’s Ghosts. For Anne Frank, we were provided section summaries that did a very good job of summarizing chapters of the book. Those summaries almost made it possible to help Raeann without reading the whole book.
Basically we’ve had the following choice: either A) one of us reads her books also, or B) we don’t and she’s left with no one to support from home (in which case she would be unable to produce an adequate summary). For Lily’s Ghosts, they didn’t do any summary work at school – it was all homework. Thus far we’ve read the books, but it hasn’t been easy. Good grief! Like we don’t have enough to do already as the parents of a kid with disabilities, not to mention full time jobs and two other kids! We’ve got to cover her entire reading list, too???
So, what’s the solution here? Are we just screwed as the parents of a kid that needs this level of support? Is there something else we can demand or expect the school to do to help us support her at home?
I’m not sure what the solution is here, so I’m looking for any advice. As you know, Raeann requires support at home to get through 95% of her homework. That’s a given and we accept that. For math, science, social studies and other classes that’s generally not too big of a deal. Between the two of us, Andrea and I either know the material or can quickly review a couple of pages in a book and be up to speed enough to provide Rae with the support she needs to get through her homework.
The real problem surfaces in language arts, where she’s required to read several books and then take notes and write summaries, tasks which both absolutely require our assistance. In the last few months she has had to read The Diary of Anne Frank, The Red Kayak, and now Lily’s Ghosts. For Anne Frank, we were provided section summaries that did a very good job of summarizing chapters of the book. Those summaries almost made it possible to help Raeann without reading the whole book.
Basically we’ve had the following choice: either A) one of us reads her books also, or B) we don’t and she’s left with no one to support from home (in which case she would be unable to produce an adequate summary). For Lily’s Ghosts, they didn’t do any summary work at school – it was all homework. Thus far we’ve read the books, but it hasn’t been easy. Good grief! Like we don’t have enough to do already as the parents of a kid with disabilities, not to mention full time jobs and two other kids! We’ve got to cover her entire reading list, too???
So, what’s the solution here? Are we just screwed as the parents of a kid that needs this level of support? Is there something else we can demand or expect the school to do to help us support her at home?
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