joy outside the box

Yesterday, Ez found a movie on Netflix — The Tigger Movie — that I thought would be perfect and not triggering. Only, it turns out, The Tigger Movie is all about Tigger not having any family. He waits and waits for his family the entire movie, only to be completely disappointed in the end. He finds out that he’s the only Tigger in all of existence, and that no one is writing to him. Yes, I realize that the true ending is that Tigger realizes he had a family all along, but Ez could not see this ending. He saw the sad, bleak despair of Tigger, and rewinded. Again. And again. I cut him off, but, sadly, the Husband did not know to do so when Ez started this pattern again tonight.

As you can imagine, the rest of the night was disastrous.

This is one of the unfortunate things about childhood trauma. Triggers pop up continuously, and childhood movies and cartoons are really just fantastic at triggering my child. Do you know how many childhood movies have some bitchy or dead parent? Do you know how many characters lose family members, often towards the beginning? We’ve ruled out so many films — Bambi, The Lion King, & Dumbo, clearly, but also The Fox & The Hound, Peter Pan, Pinocchio, Jungle Book, Mary Poppins (oh my gosh, when Mary leaves — seriously, the worst), and so many more. Some are only tangentially triggering and snuck up on us with a loud scream and a punch. Milo & Otis? I so thought that was going to be well-loved, until the separation of the two just became far too much for Ez, and he fell apart at the seams.

What do you do? We avoid. We avoid what we can, because there’s enough triggering things out there that we can’t avoid. We watch Curious George, Dora, and only certain episodes of Wild Kratts. Some documentaries, especially Jeff Corwin, go over well. Superhero shows — a big no. Family movie nights have dwindled down to the same 4-5 Disney straight-to-DVD sequels. We avoid because he’s not ready yet. His brain’s not there. It can’t adjust and accommodate new information. It hasn’t even accommodated the information that he is not alone. It doesn’t know that he has a family. It doesn’t know that he is safe and loved. It really, really doesn’t. So how can it possibly know that Tigger and he are separate entities? How can it know that Tigger, too, will be safe and loved?

(Hot yoga is basically the equivalent of allergy shots since I’m allergic to overheating and my own sweat. Literally.)

The problem is that our schools don't believe this anymore. Despite the past fifty years of research into developmentally appropriate practice, our schools don't believe this. Adults lead. Adults decide what children need to learn. Adults dictate the schedule. Adults dictate the work. Adults dictate the ways that we show what we know. There's no respect, no mutual growth, no relationship in this way of teaching, scheduling, and developing a classroom.

I've flown under the radar for the past few years. I've been allowed to be creative and explore different ways of encouraging my students to be in charge of the classroom. It's been beautiful -- and they've learned so much more than they ever did within structured tasks and teacher-directed group projects (that are often meaningless to the children!). I'm not under the radar anymore. So I'm back in the mainstream -- not by choice.

It depresses me. It's not fun. It's not fun for me. It's not fun for the students. It depresses me to know that this is why my son is failing out of public school, and why he may still struggle in private school. He needs a play-based curriculum, child-directed interactions, and room to explore. Really, we all needed that. We all need it. We need to feel autonomous and explore our own mastery of self-directed topics. Some of us, though, can handle the frustration and boredom of typical schooling. We can suffer through. Few of us escape with our love of learning, problem-solving, imagination, and creative curiosity intact, but most of us survive. A few of us, though, don't. We end up in special education, we end up as failures, we drop out, we don't make it. Our society blames the kids, but I blame the school system.

behaviorally challenged

severe kid

highest functioning / higher functioning

low kid

low-functioning

low intelligence

emotionally disturbed

intellectually disabled

he knows what he's doing

bad 

brat

he's nonverbal

obsessive, ritualistic, rituals

Terms I prefer (some of them more than others):

person-first language (child with a disability)

with significant delays

developmentally young

prefers structure & routine

special interests

child with challenging behavior

he has difficulty with (lagging skill, environment)

child with (name the mental health concern explicitly!)

requires a high level of support

And what I really love: 

Child with (strengths!)

Child with (needs!)