Tag

language disorder

Talking ‘Bout the Brain

Sometimes something just works and feels right. And maybe there’s no evidence-based practice, but I feel it, and I notice the shift in energy and connection and action, so I run with it.

I’ve been talking about my students’ brains a lot.
I think it helps them understand.
I’ve noticed a shift.

In the past, when I’ve said things like, “Kelly, it looks like you’re not paying attention” or “Kelly, are you paying attention?” the response is usually defensive, anxiety-filled, or frustrated. “I am paying attention!” Kelly will say, even if we both know she’s not. When I’ve said, “Kelly, it looks like your brain is thinking about another thought” or “Kelly, is your brain distracting you?” more often than not, she will agree, and accept ideas to re-focus.

Really, it’s just a subtle shift. From “you” to “your brain”. But for whatever reason, it’s working. I wonder if it’s because it allows them to accept their actions from one step removed. It lets them understand why they’re doing what they’re doing. It doesn’t mean letting them off the hook, it doesn’t mean telling them they “can’t help it”. It just gives them a little cushioning to accept that yes, they are behaving in this way, yes, they are speaking in this way, yes, they are acting in this way, and it’s okay. It reassures them that they are not intrinsically “bad” (which is often how a lot of our special ed. kids portray themselves and name as the reason for their struggles), but their brain causes them to act in certain ways. It gives them a reason for why. And it seems to help them be more open to trying to get past whatever obstacles their brain is throwing their way. I’ve noticed a shift in their willingness to embrace their actions, and work to find strategies to bypass the obstacles.

So I say things like:
“Did your brain forget that word?”
“Looks like your brain is thinking about something else”
“Tell your brain that we’re moving on from that topic”

Remember Joey? (We still do the silly 911 script at least once during each speech/language therapy session – he now takes the “phone” from me and sometimes talks to “911” himself.)

I’ve been using the “brain” terminology with him, and he took it and ran with it. Joey used to push, giggle, or yell when he felt something. If anyone asked him why, he couldn’t identify a reason. He would say, “I’m not sure” or “I felt like it.” Now, he can often say, “Because I’m worried about _______” or “Because I’m mad about ______.” And, sometimes, even before he starts to push, giggle, or yell, he will say, “My brain is feeling worried” or “My brain is feeling disappointed.” (Do you see how huge that is for him? To identify how he’s feeling.) And that has evolved into a script, too.

He will say, “My brain is feeling disappointed” [or whatever he is feeling]
Then he says, to me, “Be like, ‘Brain? Why are you feeling disappointed?’”
So I say, “Brain? Why are you feeling disappointed?”
And he says, “Brain says, ‘Because it’s not my day to use the ipad’” [or whatever reason]
Then it’s my turn, because he’s still learning. So I say, “Hmm. I have an idea. What if we tell your brain, ‘Brain, it makes sense that you are feeling disappointed. What if we take a few deep breaths and remind your brain that you get to use the ipad tomorrow?’” [or whatever suggestion is pertinent]
Then he usually nods, and grins, and we move on.

And it’s working. For now. And when things work, I keep it going.

Writing a paragraph

Each year I think of more and more things I want to help my students with. Each year I feel like I have less and less time, and that there’s more and more they need. One skill that is constantly requested by teachers, parents, and districts, is writing a paragraph. Despite that fact that our kids have language and learning disabilities and often do not have the fundamental language skills to write a well-constructed sentence, let alone a paragraph, writing is how progress is measured these days. MCAS, PARCC, formalized testing….so much of how it measures “success” is being able to write a well-constructed 5-paragraph essay. You already know my feeling about standardized testing, so we’ll let that one go for now.

So, okay. This year we will work extra-hard on written language when my kids come for speech/language 3 times a week. Despite the fact that there are a zillion other benchmarks to be targeted, vocabulary to be learned, auditory processing deficits, need to learn language comprehension skills and strategies, reading anywhere from 2-6 grades below their current grade level, lack of inferential knowledge, inability to summarize or extract the main idea…..yes. We will squeeze in written language.

But I was thinking hard the past few weeks as we get into a groove at school. We have to start at a basic level for our kids. And then an even more basic level than we had thought. There are so many holes, things that must be explicitly taught, things that our language/learning disordered kids don’t naturally pick up on. So, I did some reading on Bloom’s Taxonomy (Revised) and decided to use that as my framework for writing benchmarks and targeting skills this year. Because really, if our kids haven’t mastered the first tier, “Remembering” (e.g., remember what a paragraph is, what it contains), or “Understanding,” the second tier, we can’t expect that they will be able to jump right into “Apply” and “Analyze”, let alone “Evaluate” and “Create.”

I tried something out. I see kids elementary through high school, so I posed the following question to an 8th grade group and a 9th grade group: “What is a paragraph?” Some of the answers I got?
-(Silence)
-“I don’t know”
-“A  bunch of words”
-“A rectangle shape of writing on paper”
-“Sentences that talk about something”

And right away, that reinforced my gut feeling that we have to start at the basic level. Remembering. So, we talked about four vocab words. Paragraph; Topic Sentence; Details; Clincher. We talked about what each of them meant and why we needed them in a paragraph. We didn’t do any writing. Just Remembering. We used a color-coding system. Topic Sentence is green, Details are yellow, and Clincher is red. We wrote the terms and their definitions in colors. The next day, we read several short paragraphs (short and simple – probably around a 2nd grade reading level) and practiced finding the topic sentence, details, and clincher. We underlined each in their respective colors. We reviewed the terms and the colors. It was hard for them. We talked about it. We took it sentence by sentence.

This is where we’re at. But. We have to build a foundation first. I really truly believe that. And eventually, we’ll be writing a paragraph.

But what do you DO?

Because I have been invested in the field of speech-language pathology for many years now (truly since my junior year of high school), I sometimes forget that not everyone totally gets what the field is.

Friends and family know that I work intensely with autistic kids, and kids with social pragmatic difficulties. They know that I work in a school. That I see all ages. That I work with language-disordered kids, among other things (fluency, articulation, etc). But, I do realize that that’s still not clear — why does a speech-language pathologist do all of those things? What do I do?

Here is the quick cheat-sheet overview.

Language has three components: form, content, and use.
1. Form has three components. Phonology (the sound system of a language, how sounds are combined), Morphology (the structure of words), and Syntax (the order and combination of words in sentences). Essentially, we’re talking about grammar, noun/verb agreement, prefixes, suffixes, etc. Phonology is the basis for reading — knowing which sounds go together in which ways, etc.
2. Content: here we’re talking about words (aka “semantics”). What words mean, how words are defined, how to put words into sentences, paragraphs, how to cohesively use the definitions of words to express points, how to sequence sentences in the correct order, which words are antonyms and which are synonyms, and so on and so forth. Goes on forever.
3. Use: how form and content combine in daily life. AKA pragmatics. AKA, “how do we use language to be social?”

And….I work on all of these. All of these components develop naturally along a trajectory for neurotypical kids. But for most of my kids, they aren’t developing naturally. They have to be taught, often explicitly. That’s where I come in.
Examples of things that my kids might struggle with:
–Grammar, noun/verb agreements, prounoun uses
–Adding detail to sentences (e.g., adjectives)
–Using words to succinctly express what they are trying to say (e.g., “This weekend, she was there, I mean, my aunt, and um we went to that store you know? And……..”)
–Extracting the main idea, main points
–Higher-level language: idioms, multiple meaning words, metaphors (e.g., does “It’s raining cats and dogs” mean that animals are falling from the sky?)
–Predicting
–Comparing and contrasting (e.g., a 6th grader who can’t explain what’s the same/different about a lemon and an orange)

And again, the list goes on and on. It all comes back to these fundamentals of language. They are the building blocks of everything. If a kiddo has a language disorder, and struggles with the above, it’s only logical that they may have trouble in content classes — Science, Social Studies, etc. Because then, not only are they missing the building blocks, but they’re expected to understand the concepts too.

This is a very, very, very, summarized, abbreviated, and quick explanation. But maybe it’s what someone needs to see. Does it make sense? Should I give more information? I could geek out post after post with basic, or detailed, information….say the word and it’s a go. (Or, I may just do it anyway, because after all, I can!)