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May 2018 | Volume 75 | Number 8
Bolstering the Teacher Pipeline Pages 83-85

Douglas Fisher and Nancy Frey

And here's your list of students you'll be mentoring this year." With that, last August, every adult at our school was presented with a list of 12 or so student names. We were charged with developing relationships with each of these kids. We scanned our lists for names we knew, worried about those we didn't recognize, and in a few cases wondered, "What can I talk to that kid about? I'm not even sure he likes me."

We teach at Health Sciences High and Middle College in San Diego, a school with about 750 students-not an unmanageable size in secondary education. For a decade, we have worked toward building a school where relationships are central. Yet a humbling experience the previous year had caused us to see the students we didn't truly see.

During a professional learning event for the whole staff, charts containing the names of every student in the school were posted. Each of us received colored dot stickers and were told to place a dot next to the name of every student with whom we had conversations beyond the routine interactions of the classroom (there was no limit on the number of dots we could affix). You can imagine the excited buzz as dots bloomed next to names.

Then we stood back and gasped. Some students had lots of dots, others had fewer. But what startled everyone in the room was the fact that there were names with no dots next to them. We looked for patterns and discovered that some of these were the "hard-to-reach" kids we knew about, but many more were just quiet students who didn't call much attention to themselves. Some of those students had been attending our school for two years or more. We knew we had to do something different.

Why Mentoring?

Young people can benefit from mentoring relationships with caring adults. The term mentor comes from The Odyssey. Odysseus asked his friend Mentor to watch over his son, Telemachus, while Odysseus went off to fight in the Trojan War. Mentor became important to the young man, serving as a protector and advisor, offering counsel and wisdom.

Mentoring happens in the workplace and in education. Some teacher-induction programs position mentoring as a central component of shepherding novices into the profession. And mentoring programs-like the national program for young men of color, My Brother's Keeper-are widely used in industry to attract and retain a diverse talent pool.

Mentors can include family members, neighbors, and community leaders. But a significant number of adolescents (up to one in three) can't name someone they would consider their mentor, according to a report by the National Mentoring Partnership. That report also found that:

Mentored students have a higher school attendance rate.

Students with mentors are more likely to participate in extracurricular activities and sports (67 percent of mentored kids versus 37 percent of non-mentored ones).

Mentored students are 55 percent more likely to enroll in college.

Although many educators know the predictive powers of the "ABCs" of school success-attendance, behavior, and course completion in reading and mathematics-mentoring is often overlooked in school improvement and intervention plans. Educators may perceive (often wrongly) that community-based and religious organizations are providing such supports. Some schools institute peer-mentoring, which is valuable, but can't provide the same kind of guidance that adult mentoring can. To be clear, all these sources of mentoring are crucial. No student should be limited to just one type of mentoring. But schools are in a unique position to provide layers of mentoring, beginning with school adults.

A Mentoring Program Is Born

The mentoring program at Health Sciences High began germinating the day we realized too many students had little connection to a staff member. We began with simple math, dividing the number of students by the number of adults on campus to yield an average number-11. So 11 students were assigned to every adult, including administrators and clerical staff, teachers, and paraprofessionals. We set some parameters, such as having all students assigned to each adult come from the same grade level to make contact easier. Beyond that, a computer algorithm randomly assigned mentees to each adult.

The lists were distributed at a meeting during planning week. After everyone looked at their list, they had 15 minutes to make changes due to special circumstances (such as a pre-existing strained relationship with a particular student). One staff member coordinated these efforts, and within 30 minutes, the lists were settled.

Our school hasn't placed much structure around how mentors work with mentees. It's our first year at this, and we want to see what natural patterns emerge. We were simply instructed to maintain regular contact with our mentees. At the onset, some mentors wrote a note attached to a token item to introduce themselves. Doug made calls to each of his mentees. Nancy sent handwritten cards with her contact information home to families after she met with all her mentees. Some staff members host lunches in their classrooms to meet with mentees as a group; others arrange more informal meetings. It's been interesting to watch these relationships evolve and take on a more natural rhythm.

In the video accompanying this column, school administrator Dominique Smith holds an impromptu meeting to check in with one of his mentees. They talk about family, the student's current grades, and the fire science career-education pathway this 10th grader is enrolled in. Notice that Dr. Smith doesn't attempt to solve his student's issues himself, but helps the student make a plan of action. The whole conversation took 10 minutes (this is an edited version). After this meeting, Dr. Smith commented, "It's great to hear I'm not the only one he sees as a mentor. He talks about his family and his fire science instructor, too. I see my role as making sure he has ... multiple supports in his life."

Mentors Need Support, Too

Our understanding of what mentors need to develop and sustain relationships is evolving. We include "monthly mentoring" checks on our professional learning days so that the group can problem solve together. At times, informal mentors (those who already had a relationship with the student) can offer further insight. In addition, separate from our mentoring program, we meet as a school staff for 10 minutes each morning. Earlier in the year, we asked one adult each day to briefly explain during this time what he or she was doing to foster a relationship with mentees. This has built the collective resources of the staff as they advocate for students.

We recently tried an exercise to help mentors reflect on their mentoring relationships. School leaders gave each adult the academic transcript of one of their mentees and had them reflect on the following questions:

What are this student's aspirations?

What are his or her concerns, fears, or worries?

What current success has he or she experienced?

What talent does this student possess?

Mentors then reflected on the extent to which they could answer these questions for each of their mentees. This helped us notice where we're connecting and where we need to double our efforts.

If you sense our mentoring effort is a work in progress, you're correct. We still have more questions than answers. But we knew from the dot activity last year that we needed to do something. And the best solutions usually begin with the words, "Something I could do is ..."

Endnotes

Bruce, M., & Bridgeland, J. (2014). The mentoring effect: Young people's perspectives on the outcomes and availability of mentoring. Washington, DC: The National Mentoring Partnership.

Balfanz, R., Bridgeland, J., Bruce, M., & Hornig, J. F. (2013). Building a grad nation: Progress and challenge in ending the high school dropout epidemic. Washington, DC: Civic Enterprises, the Everyone Graduates Center at Johns Hopkins University School of Education, America's Promise Alliance, and the Alliance for Excellent Education.

Douglas Fisher and Nancy Frey are professors in the Department of Educational Leadership at San Diego State University and teacher leaders at Health Sciences High and Middle College. They are ASCD authors, and their work inspired ASCD's FIT Teaching® program.

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Teens Need Mentors - Educational Leadership

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May 2018 | Volume 75 | Number 8 Bolstering the Teacher Pipeline Pages 83-85 Douglas Fisher and Nancy Frey And here's your list of students you'll be mentoring this year." With that, last August, every adult at our school was presented with a list of 12 or so student names.

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December 2017/January 2018 | Volume 75 | Number 4
Mental Health in Schools Pages 12-17

Sandy Merz

I just don't want to be sad anymore."

In 30 years as a middle school teacher, I have never felt more inadequate than when one of my favorite students spoke that simple sentence to me before class one day.

As an 8th grader, my student, whom I'll call Lucy, had distinguished herself. In addition to acing her classes, she read extensively and liked to draw. Her social life included a small but dependable group of friends. She could be silly and eccentric, but could also engage in deep and original conversation.

I thought Lucy was a happy child, but I was wrong. On the first day after winter break, I saw her standing in front of the school and could tell something was off. After exchanging pleasantries, I asked if she was OK. She didn't deny she wasn't, but she said "it" didn't have anything to do with school. Respecting her privacy, I left it at that.

Over the next few weeks, Lucy's engaging attributes remained in place, but she was clearly in distress. Then the crying started. She would be in the breezeway before class, tearing up and hugging a friend. But then she would shake it off and join the class.

One day she could not be consoled. As the students filed into class, I held her back and asked her to please confide in me.

"I just don't want to be sad anymore."

I asked if something was going on at home and she said no, that she was just sad all the time. I asked if she'd like to see a counselor and she said no, in no uncertain terms. Clearly out of my depth, I tried to insist. Again, through her tears, she told me she didn't want them to make her take medicine.

One of my favorite students had just all but told me that she suffered from clinical depression, and I had no clue how to help her. The rest of the class would soon be needing attention, and I needed to act. I asked Lucy if she wanted to stay in the empty classroom next to mine for a while, and she said yes. I let her in and told her I would check with her in a few minutes.

After getting the class to work independently, I went and talked to Lucy. I told her that knowing her condition and caring about her, I had a professional obligation and personal wish to ask some questions. In her answers, she told me her mother knew about her condition and was getting her into a support group with an outside agency and looking for individual therapy. Lucy affirmed that she had never thought of hurting herself and had no means or plans to do so. She promised that she would let me know if she ever did have those thoughts. I told her she could decide on a daily basis whether she wanted to work alone or with the class.

Over the balance of the year, Lucy worked alone about half the time. She did get into a support group and was about to start individual counseling. Once, she confided learning that her father "has the same thing." By the end of the year she felt better, but I expect her depression is a challenge she'll have to manage her whole life.

The Mental Health Training Gap

The National Alliance on Mental Illness (NAMI) estimates that 20 percent of youths aged 13-18 live with a mental health condition. Statistically, then, five other students in Lucy's class of 8th graders might have been battling struggles of their own-all beneath my radar. If I had to guess which other students might struggle with mental illness, I would probably have pointed to those who frequently acted out or were always sullen and withdrawn. I would not have suspected anyone like Lucy, who functioned well, got good grades, and never misbehaved. I'd have been right about as often as if I'd selected names out of a hat.

That's because, in spite of the obvious need, I've received zero training in issues related to student mental health. And that's true for the vast majority of my teaching colleagues. Instead of professional knowledge, we're left with our own estimates, wondering if that student is "passive aggressive" or that one is "OCD," as if we even knew what those things truly mean.

To help these students, we rely heavily on informal conversations with colleagues about what seems to work. Counselors and school psychologists do their best to help, but too many students fall through the cracks. And small wonder: The American School Counselor Association recommends schools should staff one counselor for every 250 students, a target that was met only by New Hampshire, Vermont, and Wyoming in 2013-2014. Nationwide, the average was one counselor for every 491 students. (With two counselors for about 700 students, my school fares better than the average, but is still at well below the recommended ratio.)

This is a poor way to do things. Every teacher, administrator, psychologist, and counselor with whom I've talked agrees that teachers need professional development on issues and best practices regarding student mental health. And the data back us up. According to NAMI's stark statistics, 50 percent of all mental illness begins by age 14. The average time between the onset of symptoms and treatment is 8-10 years. Approximately 50 percent of students age 14 and older who suffer with a mental illness drop out of school. And 70 percent of youth in state and local juvenile justice systems have a mental illness. Clearly, we need to do better.

What Should Training Entail?

Training for teachers in student mental health should be limited and conditioned by the contexts in which teachers work with students. But two focal points of the training should be classroom practice and legal and ethical considerations.

Classroom Practice

Any training regarding student mental health should seek to help teachers become better teachers, not mental health experts or therapists. Content should improve the dynamics of teaching and learning, not overtake it. To that end, here are some of the points student mental health training should address:

▪ What do the most reliable data say about the extent of mental health issues among our students?

▪ What specific mental illnesses occur, and how may each be expressed in school?

▪ When is clinical language such as "oppositionally defiant" OK to use as a descriptor for students, and when should it be left to mental health professionals?

▪ In what ways do specific mental illnesses limit students' life prospects and quality of life?

▪ What treatment options are available?

▪ How can teachers make their classroom environments more accommodating, both physically and socially, for students battling mental illness?

▪ What behaviors should educators address in class and when should they call for assistance?

▪ How can teachers avoid inadvertently exacerbating students' problems or setting off disruptive behavior?

▪ What risk factors and warning signs merit immediate referral to mental health professionals?

Legal and Ethical Issues

Training should also address key legal and ethical issues, such as protecting student privacy and knowing the difference between responsible professional intervention and practicing psychiatry without a license. Consider my experience with Lucy. I often wonder if I should have reported her condition to an authority, or was required by law or district policy to do so, in spite of her pleas not to. Should I have let her mother know that we talked about her condition? If we hadn't had a close student-teacher bond, and if she hadn't been open about her mother's efforts to find her therapy, I definitely would have. But without a doubt, for the sake of our students and ourselves, teachers should know when legal or ethical obligations outweigh our personal judgment.

We also need to know what liability we might face when we do exercise our judgment. Whereas I'm clear on my state's laws regarding mandatory reporting of potential child abuse, I know little about my responsibilities-and potential liabilities-in connection with student mental health issues. Could conversations like the ones between Lucy and me lead to civil or criminal charges against me if I fail to report them? What if, without consulting an authority, I do a little online research about a child's behavior and tell parents I think the child is suffering from a particular mental illness and suggest how they might address it at home? How is that different than presuming to diagnose and recommend treatment for a student's physical illness?

Personally, I think that frequent, cavalier use of technical mental health language such as "obsessive-compulsive," "passive-aggressive," "personality disorder," and "on the spectrum" is inappropriate, even unethical, and I'm trying to stop using them myself. These are not laymen's terms, and teachers should be trained when and when not to employ them. But what language can we use in their place?

Mental Health Teacher Training in Practice

Last spring an opportunity arose to directly address the lack of student mental health teacher training. Teach to Lead, launched in 2014 by the U.S. Department of Education, The National Board of Professional Teaching Standards, and ASCD, is a program designed to bring visibility to teachers as experts on policy and practices and provides time and resources for teams of teachers to develop solutions for issues they face. I submitted an application to attend a Teach to Lead conference with a team including teacher Cody Dahms, counselor Jeannette Gabaldon, professional development specialist Robbie Ramirez, and principal Steve Gabaldon. Our proposal was to combine our broad range of education experience to create a primer on student mental health that could help educators better meet the needs of students with mental illnesses.

The biggest outcome of our initial meetings was to realize how large a task we were taking on. We are still in the vision stage, but our ultimate aim is to create training materials that are open-ended, flexible, portable, and teacher-friendly. We'd like to provide training resources that could be delivered face-to-face to a whole faculty by a staff member, accessed online by a professional learning community, or studied independently by a single teacher. The content would cover all the mental health training tips I mentioned earlier, but also be customizable to suit educators' particular context and training needs. The platform will likely be a website to ensure accessibility. We hope to have an extensive section of tagged resources for participants who wish to go deeper into specific topics.

Three examples illustrate how this training tool might look. First, a district might mandate a one-hour survey on the topic of student mental health that includes data on mental health, acute warning signs, and legal and ethical considerations. Second, a grade-level team could dedicate several meetings to accessing sections of the training that cover the best responses to specific student behaviors. Finally, a school might set aside several hours of professional development for the entire training.

The platform may still be a couple of years down the road, however. Our initial steps include collecting and assembling content from currently available sources; producing a test version, probably as a slideshow; finding mental health professionals to vet our work for accuracy; and sampling the training in small groups. Our goal is to have those steps done by the 2018-2019 school year.

Helping the Lucys in Your Classroom

Lucy is a junior in high school now. I think about her having to carry a burden that she didn't ask for, isn't her fault, and she'd rather not have. I have faith that as she finds her path in life, she'll continue to seek and receive help, thus minimizing the impact of her depression on her future.

But as I write, the first quarter of the school year is winding down. I pause and scan the students in my classes and wonder who among them wages private battles against mental illness. I want to be their ally, but I don't know how. Perhaps one day, with the right kind of training, I-and many other teachers-will learn how.

Endnotes

National Alliance on Mental Illness. (n.d.). Mental health facts-Children & teens. Retrieved September 14, 2017, from www.nami.org/getattachment/Learn-More/Mental-Health-by-the-Numbers/childrenmhfacts.pdf

American School Counselor Association. (n.d.). Student-to-school-counselor ratio 2013-2014. Retrieved from www.schoolcounselor.org/asca/media/asca/home/Ratios13-14.pdf

August "Sandy" Merz III teaches science, math, and language arts at Safford K-8 School in Tucson, Arizona. He blogs for Stories from School Arizona, is a Raytheon Leader in Education, and is an Arizona Hope Street Fellow. Follow him on Twitter.

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December 2017/January 2018 | Volume 75 | Number 4 Mental Health in Schools Pages 12-17 Sandy Merz I just don't want to be sad anymore." In 30 years as a middle school teacher, I have never felt more inadequate than when one of my favorite students spoke that simple sentence to me before class one day.

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September 2016 | Volume 74 | Number 1
Relationships First Pages 44-48

Lisa Medoff

This kid is going to ruin my reputation and my career. What if I actually lose control and start screaming incoherently at him? All that time and money for grad school down the drain. What other jobs could I possibly do? Will I have to move back in with my parents at this age? These thoughts ran through my mind every time I met Baxter for our twice-weekly sessions. It took every iota of mental energy I had to push them away and concentrate on working with this 4th-grade boy on strategies for managing his Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD).

I dreaded those sessions. And I knew that Baxter hated working with me. He told me so often, in a variety of creative and sometime hurtful ways. It was understandable-after working hard all day at school to pay attention, he was simply wiped out, and now he had to spend extra time with some strange lady who was trying to get him to do even more work. Not only that, but she was also making him work on the things that were hardest for him-organizing, planning ahead, checking details, handwriting, reading, and writing essays. Even cleaning out his backpack was a major chore for both of us. It was so full of crumpled papers, dirty clothes, sticks, and food wrappers that I was amazed that any folders and books could even fit in there.

Baxter pushed me away every moment that we worked together. He was rude, sarcastic, and often downright mean. He got up and walked away every time I asked him to do something he didn't want to do, which was ... everything. When his mother asked me whether adding a third session a week would be beneficial, everything in me cried out to respond that I thought I should refer him to someone else, for both our sakes.

Stepping Up My Game

At that crossroads, however, I pushed myself to remember what I say to my college students when I talk about the kids I work with: "They're so used to being rejected, pushed away, and made to feel bad about themselves, especially when it comes to school, that the number one strategy I have for helping them is that I really like them, and I see their strengths." So I challenged myself to really, really like Baxter.

It wasn't easy. I worked harder with Baxter than with any other student I've ever worked with. In the car on the way to the appointment, I would tell myself, "Smile. Feel happy. You like this kid. This will be a fun hour." I listened to music that would charge up my energy and put me in a good mood before I saw him. I focused my thoughts on being present with him, not on how much time was left before the session ended. I made bad jokes to try to entertain both of us. If he told me he liked something, I spent time researching it so that I could talk to him about it. I worked hard to find materials he was interested in so that we could practice skills while exploring topics that were fun for him. If he got up and walked away, instead of saying, "Come back and sit down," I would say, "Looks like you need a break. Let's go outside and walk and talk." We developed inside jokes-about both him and me, but mostly about me.

I was honest with Baxter, telling him when I was feeling frustrated, but explaining that I was frustrated because I believed in him. I asked him for suggestions about how I could change my own behavior to help him more. He was honest with me, telling me things like, "When you interrupt my reading to correct a word, it throws me off. Can you wait until the end of the page to tell me the words I got wrong?" I listened, and we joked about how hard it was for me not to jump in.

I worked so hard to like him that I actually kind of started looking forward to seeing him. I started to really like him. And because of this change in me, he started to really like me. This change didn't happen quickly. In fact, it happened painfully slowly, with a lot of setbacks and mistakes on my part. I tried to be honest with him about these mistakes, saying things like, "I don't like how that sentence came out of my mouth. Let me try it again."

What Teachers Can Do

I know that most teachers don't have the luxury of working one-on-one with students like I do, and they don't have extended lengths of time to patiently connect with kids. But I also know, from years of working with students who struggle in school, that even one positive, authentic comment from a teacher can resonate for years, changing the feelings students have about themselves and about school.

For students with ADHD, finding this connection and changing the way they think teachers see them is incredibly important. There are many fine books and online resources that deal with helping students with ADHD learn academic material or manage their behavior, and I urge readers to check them out, but I want to focus here on strategies for connecting with these students. Try some of the following ideas for at least a few weeks without giving up, and see which ones improve your relationship with a student whom you're having trouble connecting with.

Ask the student to help you figure out what he needs and how you can help him. This strategy is effective for connecting because you're establishing that both of you are responsible for working together to make sure that both the student's needs and your needs are met. Be clear about what the student needs to learn, what the limits are, and why, but also ask for and truly consider his input. This process not only shows students that you value their ideas, but it can also give you some useful information.

Frame new strategies as experiments, not decrees. I usually ask kids, "Can we try something that I've seen work for some other kids? Are you open to trying something new that might make some things easier for you?" I ask them to try a new strategy for a week; then we'll discuss how things went and tweak the idea or abandon it. This process puts us both on the same side as we try to solve an interesting problem, instead of looking like I'm trying to control or fix something "wrong" with the kid.

Teach students how to question and challenge in a manner that will get them heard, not written off as simply rude or immature. Tell the student that you're open to correction if you're doing something that's not ideal for her learning and comfort level, but also teach her how to provide this feedback in a respectful, positive manner. For example, I told Baxter, "It's really helpful for me to know that sometimes you're trying to put your thoughts together when it looks to me like you're just zoning out. But can we make a hand signal for you to show me that you're doing this, instead of you yelling at me when I try to get you back to work?"

Rather than trying to clamp down on off-task behaviors, use them to get to know students better. I would tell Baxter, "Let's do five math problems, and then you can tell me the story you want to share right now," or "Let's write one paragraph, and then you can play your favorite song for me while we organize your folder."

Share stories with students about your own struggles with getting work done, paying attention, or staying organized. Stories that don't have an ideal outcome can be especially helpful; they show how, even as an adult, you have to keep problem-solving to find strategies that work for you.

Try as much as you can to accommodate the needs of students with ADHD, within the constraints of your own classroom management needs. For example, although many people recommend placing students with ADHD in the front row, I sometimes offer students the option of sitting in the back row so they can stand up or pace without being disruptive to other students. Giving students choices about what they think might work best for them can set the stage for a trusting relationship.

Make deals with students about behaviors that you both want to change. For example, many students with ADHD have sleep disturbances, which can further harm their ability to focus in class. I will say to kids, "I have a harder time falling asleep if I'm playing on my phone or watching TV right before bed, but it's so hard to put all the screens away. How about if we both try just reading a book before bed for the next week, and then let's check in about how it went?" Framing the change in terms of something that's hard for both of us bonds us together, rather than just making it about one more thing that's "wrong" with the student. It also allows me to model how I handle obstacles that are keeping me from reaching my own goals.

Try as hard as you can to limit negativity in your interactions with a challenging student, not only out loud but also in your head. Acknowledge your negative feelings and thoughts, but then try to change them into something positive. If you find yourself frustrated with a student, try to find something that you genuinely like and respect about that student, and repeat it to yourself. Even better, say it or write it to the student. Changing your thinking will change your attitude in a way that the student will usually pick up on.

Have students teach you something. Like many other kids, Baxter loved video games. I am terrible at video games-when I have to play them, I just randomly push buttons and hope the experience ends soon. I would let Baxter spend the last five minutes of some sessions teaching me how to play one of his favorite video games. This time was a great investment in our relationship. He could be the expert, and I gained empathy for what it felt like to have someone get frustrated with me for not understanding something that came quite easily to him. Most important, we could engage in what cements any good relationship: laughing and having a good time.

As much as you have time to do so, take a beat to stop and acknowledge that a student with ADHD may have the right answer, even if it's not the answer you were initially looking for. If Baxter gave an answer to a question that I thought was incorrect, I would usually say, "That wasn't was I was thinking, but let's double-check to see if I'm wrong or if there is more than one way to do this." Or I would say, "I don't think that's right, but try to convince me!" This response acknowledges and values the students' point of view while teaching them valuable skills, such as building an argument. Many times, I've found that this type of interaction demonstrated that a student was actually thinking in an incredibly creative manner that I never would have seen otherwise.

If a student seems to be off-task or is having trouble getting started, don't assume he hasn't been paying attention; instead, offer a different way for getting a foot in the door to start the project. Often, students with ADHD have so many ideas that it's hard for them to pull those ideas together and explain their thinking so that others can follow their train of thought. When I find they're having a hard time getting started on a paper, I'll tell them to just talk about the book or subject and not to worry about transitioning from idea to idea right now. If they enjoy art, I'll ask them to draw their ideas. Acknowledging students' unique ways of thinking will help you see their abilities in a different light, which will improve your relationship.

If it's possible, allow students to work just outside the classroom door (if there isn't too much noise that could be a potential distractor) or even better, in an area with grass and trees. Being outside or around natural objects can be helpful for all students, but especially for students with ADHD; even a plant on a student's desk can sometimes help her feel calmer and more focused. When I find that students are having trouble staying on task, we'll go outside, either for a short break or to actually get some work done. We may run flashcards or record ideas for an essay on the phone while walking around the block.

Finally, and hardest of all, be patient. If you lose your temper, acknowledge it, explain why it happened, and let the student know that you want to work together to repair the relationship. Let him see that although you won't put up with rude or disrespectful behavior, you're going to continue to like him and you won't give up on him. Your relationship won't change overnight; students who struggle in school tend to distrust teachers, and you may have many years of difficult experiences to make up for. But even if your relationship hasn't changed by the last day of school, you're setting the stage to make it just slightly easier for next year's teacher to establish a good relationship.

Back to Baxter

My rough relationship with 4th-grade Baxter gave me a gift. It allowed me to practice patience and taught me how to repair the times when I let that patience wear thin. I'm both a better practitioner and a better person for having him in my life.

I changed Baxter's name for this article, but I didn't have to; Baxter knows exactly how I felt about him. I talked about it in a speech I gave at his high school graduation dinner two years ago, to which he responded, "Yeah, I hated you when we first met. Hated you!"

These days, I usually hear from Baxter when he is begging me to proofread an essay for a pre-med class (at his first-choice college) that's due in a few hours. "Did I teach you nothing about planning ahead?" I write. "This time, I'm not reading it at the last minute." And then I do it anyway. Because I adore this kid.

Lisa Medoff is the learning specialist at the Stanford University School of Medicine. She is the author of Resilience in the Classroom: Helping Students with Special Needs (Kaplan, 2010).

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Building Bridges with Students Who Have ADHD

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September 2016 | Volume 74 | Number 1 Relationships First Pages 44-48 Lisa Medoff This kid is going to ruin my reputation and my career. What if I actually lose control and start screaming incoherently at him? All that time and money for grad school down the drain.

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September 2017 | Volume 75 | Number 1
In Sync with Families Pages 52-57

Barbara Boroson

It's not supporting communication or sensation or socialization. It's not differentiating academics. It's not even managing behavior.

It's me.

It's parents.

It's this: What do we do when parents just won't hear what we tell them?

Having worked in the field of autism education for more than 25 years (as a clinician, administrator, and consultant) and having been a parent of a child with autism for 18 years, I have sat on both sides of the table for these difficult conversations, and I know, firsthand, that the feeling of frustration is mutual. Let's take a candid look at common stumbling blocks between educators and parents and explore some fundamental adjustments that can shift this dynamic from confounding to constructive. (For the sake of simplicity, I use the word "parent" to include any type of caregiver or guardian who is acting in the capacity of a parent.)

The Three Cs

To start, consider three potential areas of collaboration-consistency, continuity, and communication-that are especially crucial when working with students on the autism spectrum.

Consistency

Students on the spectrum crave consistency. When expectations are presented in ways they can understand, with consistent messaging and follow-through, these students can begin to trust the routine, set aside their fear of the unknown, and relax into the flow of the day.

Continuity

Students on the autism spectrum struggle to generalize what they learn. Executive dysfunction and other challenges make it difficult for them to expand accurately from the concrete to the abstract, so they tend to learn in extremely circumscribed ways.

For example, a 3rd grade teacher received a note from the school's occupational therapist, commending one of her students, Ian, for having achieved an ambitious handwriting goal. The classroom teacher was baffled-she had seen no improvement in Ian's handwriting. Together, the therapist and the teacher came to realize that Ian had been returning to his classroom after each O.T. session and reverting to his "old" handwriting! In response, the occupational therapist and teacher both instructed Ian to use his "new" handwriting "all the time." Once a continuity of expectations had been established, Ian was happy to comply. Until then, it hadn't occurred to him to generalize his new skill.

Continuity across contexts, whether from class to class, from school to home, or from home to school, not only boosts generalization, but also makes the day seamlessly predictable so that students can move through major transitions with confidence.

Communication

Despite their best intentions, students on the spectrum can be particularly unreliable conduits of information between home and school due to difficulties with receptive and expressive language, auditory processing, and organization. Teachers need to keep in close touch with parents to ensure that accurate information is being shared.

In 8th grade, my son came home from school one day quite agitated, insisting that everyone in our family needed to pack a bag immediately. He said his social studies teacher had told the class that a bus would pick us up at our house in an hour because we were being relocated. Despite my best logical efforts to debunk this notion, he grew increasingly anxious.

As he began packing frantically, I called the school. His teacher told me that they had been discussing the mandatory evacuations of World War II. Over the phone, I could practically hear her shaking her head. "Oh my gosh, Barbara," she said. "I can't even tell you how many times I reiterated that this was a 'what if' scenario: What if your family were told they had an hour? How would you feel? What would you pack?"

Contextual Differences

Parents and educators often experience the same student in such different ways that it can seem we're not talking about the same kid at all. Doubt and distrust, often triggered by underlying feelings of inadequacy on both sides, can flare up unexpectedly. Defensiveness quickly contaminates a parent-educator relationship and can slam shut any hope of meaningful collaboration going forward. The first step in breaking through this negative spiral is to openly acknowledge that one child can present quite differently in different contexts.

All's Well at School

Some students on the autism spectrum function well in school, even in general education classrooms. As educators, we may wonder why such a student has been given the diagnosis she has-at school she is attentive, cooperative, flexible, and engaged. It's easy to be lulled into believing that we know the whole child and to assume that she functions at the same relatively high level across contexts.

But that same student may be exhausting and utterly overwhelming at home, and so her parents may resist your characterizations. They may feel skeptical: There's no way my child patiently waits her turn for the computer at school. At home, she shoves her sister out of the chair. They may feel cynical: This teacher must have low expectations for my child because she's been labeled autistic. They may feel inadequate: If this teacher can get my child to cooperate, why can't I? Am I a bad parent? Is this all my fault?

Be careful here. Though we may not verbalize judgmental feelings, unspoken negativity comes across loud and clear. Check yourself: Are you, deep down, feeling superior, even disdainful? If so, it's probably seeping through your carefully cultivated professional veneer.

Instead, set judgments aside and consider some practical reasons that students on the autism spectrum might do better at school than at home.

What's Working at School

At school, life follows a reliable, comprehensible schedule. For instance, first period is always science and Friday is always pizza day. Better yet, the school schedule may be presented in a visual, digital, or other multisensory format that promotes engagement and bolsters independence. That kind of transparent structure is very grounding for these students and may make a crucial functional difference.

What's Not Working at Home

Home may be more laid-back, as is common in many families. Chances are, the dinner menu at home isn't posted a month in advance. As comfortable as an easygoing home may be for most of us, it may not be the best thing for everyone.

Parents often find that their child puts her best foot forward out in the world, and then falls apart at home. It can get pretty stormy when these kids come whirling off the bus like little tornadoes. Empathize with these parents who are wrung out, but also reassure them that their child has her priorities in order. She is bringing her best self to school. That's what we're all supposed to do! Home is-and should be-a safe and forgiving place to let loose at the end of a hard day's work.

Still, if parents can follow through on what's working at school, their child's best self can be generalized across contexts. In a sense, students on the spectrum can actually be more relaxed when their environment is a bit less relaxed. Don't hoard your heroics! Share with parents what's working: Suggest that they try the visual schedule, prompts, and strategies that the student responds to at school so parents can reap the benefits at home.

All's Well at Home

Even more common is the opposite scenario: A student is struggling significantly at school, but his parents maintain that everything is just fine at home, thank you very much.

At school, we may see a child who is constantly disturbing others and cannot work independently even for a minute.
What? Not my kid! My kid can read a whole book independently at home!
As educators, when we hear comments like that, we may doubt the parents. Truth be told, educators often disparage such comments as "denial." Remember, these are not easy conversations to have. No parents want to hear that their child is struggling or different.

But the fact is, it's not uncommon for a child to be more focused and engaged at home than at school.

What's Not Working at School

School throws relentless demands at these students. They are expected to engage, socialize, communicate, and manage the upheavals of transitions all day long. It's constant stimulation. Even when the school day is optimally scheduled and structured, for some students on the autism spectrum, it can be just too much.

What's Working at Home

Home, however, may be deeply individualized, which can make all the difference. At home, parents can do-and need to do-whatever works. My friend Carmen puts her daughter's book on the floor and lets her read in a handstand position. That's the only way her daughter can do her reading homework. That degree of flexibility may be the reason a child can, in fact, sit (or stand upside down) and read a book independently at home.

At home, a child on the spectrum may be afforded more leniency than their typical siblings are. For example, Tyler's parents and siblings have learned that it's just easier to sacrifice their own turns to go first than to try to make Tyler wait. They know that if Tyler doesn't go first, all hell will break loose, and it will take hours for the family to recover after the resultant meltdown.

For these reasons, parents may ask or expect the school to accommodate a student in ways he is accustomed to at home. It can be frustrating and worrying for parents when their hard-won wisdom is not welcome at school. And it can be equally challenging for educators to respond to parents' seemingly unrealistic requests.

Coming Together

What's missing from these fraught home-school relationships is empathy and transparency. When I consult at schools, I help educators cut through their defensiveness, validating that, indeed, some of these "home" strategies cannot be implemented at school. But I also urge educators to explain why that is the case. Join with parents by acknowledging that letting Tyler go first in every game is surely a profound relief, even a necessity at home, but at school, the needs and rights of 23 other students must be upheld.

Share with parents that there's a key learning opportunity here. School is more reflective of the real world, in which, some day, all students are going to have to function to the best of their ability. Assure parents that at school, we will do our very best to differentiate, accommodate, modify, and support, but certain skills and expectations must be insisted upon for the sake of all students. Acknowledge that yes, this can make school more challenging for students on the spectrum, but if their child is carefully supported, there will be long-term benefits. We need to remind parents that growth happens in the sweet spot where a student is stretched, but not stressed. And we need to remind ourselves that the least restrictive environment doesn't mean the least supportive environment.

The Parents' Perspective

Meanwhile, it's crucial that we tune into the parents' experience. What must it be like to live with this particular child, 24-7? How might a rule like letting one child always go first have developed over time? As a parent, I can tell you there's a name for rules like this, and it's not enabling. It's called survival.

As educators, we must remain keenly aware that these parents are struggling, and that conversations about their children are emotionally loaded. Families of students on the spectrum have traveled a long road of high hopes and dashed dreams, littered with innumerable obstacles and potholes along the way. Try not to disdain or dismiss questions, concerns, and qualms as the hovering worries of "helicopter parents." Do these parents worry? You bet they do. But they have much to worry about.

Although parents of students on the spectrum usually get less meaningful information about school than most parents do, they have much more to worry about. Their kids get confused and disoriented. Their kids lose their stuff, lose their way, and lose control. They misunderstand and miscommunicate. They get bullied, teased, overstimulated, and overwhelmed on a regular basis. This makes life at school enormously challenging. Placement in a least restrictive environment guarantees that these students are being stretched to capacity-and sometimes beyond. There is no such thing as a typical day for these atypical children.

Pause and consider the moment when these parents were told that their perfect little child, born with ten fingers, ten toes, and infinite possibility, actually has a pervasive, permanent, neurodevelopmental disability. For many parents of children with significant special needs, the diagnosis of a lifelong disability is akin to a death: It represents the sudden shattering of hopes, dreams, and legacy. Often, parents go through a lengthy and agonizing grief process that includes intense periods of denial, anger, self-blame, hopelessness, and depression, before they can begin to accept what is, as well as what may never be.

Just living with and raising a child on the spectrum day after day can be physically and emotionally debilitating. But despite that, these parents must kick into high gear, rallying on behalf of their child. Parents must quickly educate themselves about this exclusive society to which they have been appointed but never wanted to join. They must wend their way through serpentine systems to round up suitable services, squashing any vestiges of parental pride to shout out their child's challenges in search of help. Obtaining services is time-consuming, costly, and rarely well covered by medical insurance, so a heavy financial burden likely weighs on the family as well. All of this is in addition to attending to the everyday needs of a typical family, including those of the child's siblings who often get lost in the shuffle.

Given these overwhelming and unrelenting circumstances, it's no wonder parents may seem highly anxious, depressed, or wary. Depending on where they are in their personal journey, some parents may get teary every time you introduce a new concern; others may flatly reject your interpretations because they simply cannot handle one more thing. Just as you do with your students, be mindful of where the parents have been and meet them where they are. In your journey together, remember that every accommodation and modification you provide highlights yet again for parents just how different their child is. As spectacularly successful as your sticker charts and behavior plans may be, they are, at best, bittersweet victories for these weary parents.

A Powerful Partnership

The world offers these kids-and their parents-a steady stream of negative feedback, failure, impatience, and social rejection. In many cases, these kids are noticed only for their challenges and provocative behaviors.

So when you speak with parents, accentuate the positive. Lead with strengths, and if you can't find them, look harder. Praise students for their honesty; call them out for their reliability; commend their command of dates and time. Show parents that you see their child as a whole person-not simply an amalgam of challenges and disruptions. Let parents know that you value and appreciate their child's presence at school. This approach will not only warm the hearts of parents who have been struggling, but it may also allow them to let down their defenses a bit and bolster their ability to hear your concerns.

In these conversations, acknowledge that parents and educators bring different kinds of wisdom to the picture of a whole child. Parents are the historical and holistic experts: Their specialty is their own child. As teachers and administrators, our specialty is educating a classroom or school full of students. Show parents, early in the school year, that you value their wisdom by asking them about their child's interests, what kinds of things set their child off, and what can improve a situation. ( For a sample family questionnaire, visit here.)

I always tell my son's teachers and school administrators up front that I see us as a team. I tell them in no uncertain terms that, even though I know my son best, I don't know him at school, so I welcome their perspectives. And I mean it! I also tell them that they don't know him at home, and so I hope they will welcome my perspectives, too.

Providing an opportunity for parents to share their wisdom not only gives you a leg up in your work, but also signals to parents that you respect them as partners on the bumpy road ahead. Join hands and hold on tight. Together, we can help our students climb out of the potholes, clamber over the obstacles, brush themselves off, and reach heights they-and even we-never thought possible.

Barbara Boroson is a keynote speaker and professional development provider. She is the author of Autism Spectrum Disorder in the Inclusive Classroom: How to Reach and Teach Students with ASD (Scholastic, 2nd edition, 2016) and a forthcoming book on autism for school and district leaders (ASCD, 2018).

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Building Bridges Across the Autism Spectrum

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September 2017 | Volume 75 | Number 1 In Sync with Families Pages 52-57 Barbara Boroson It's not supporting communication or sensation or socialization. It's not differentiating academics. It's not even managing behavior. It's me. It's parents. It's this: What do we do when parents just won't hear what we tell them?

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Answer one of these two questions by written reflection. 1.  What connections were you able to make in your personal life as a learner? 2. What connections were you able to make in your professional life as an educator?

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Answer one of these two questions by written reflection. 1.  What connections were you able to make in your personal life as a learner? 2. What connections were you able to make in your professional life as an educator?

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Answer one of these two questions by written reflection. 1.  What connections were you able to make in your personal life as a learner? 2. What connections were you able to make in your professional life as an educator?

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Answer one of these two questions by written reflection. 1.  What connections were you able to make in your personal life as a learner? 2. What connections were you able to make in your professional life as an educator?

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Answer one of these two questions by written reflection. 1.  What connections were you able to make in your personal life as a learner? 2. What connections were you able to make in your professional life as an educator?

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Answer one of these two questions by written reflection. 1.  What connections were you able to make in your personal life as a learner? 2. What connections were you able to make in your professional life as an educator?

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Answer one of these two questions by written reflection. 1.  What connections were you able to make in your personal life as a learner? 2. What connections were you able to make in your professional life as an educator?

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Answer one of these two questions by written reflection. 1.  What connections were you able to make in your personal life as a learner? 2. What connections were you able to make in your professional life as an educator?

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I agree with the author that I myself seem to be more organized and focused using an "analog" planner and that this might work for students when they are taking notes. The author did not say that students should never take notes digitally - only that they are less likely to "think" and therefore remember what they are writing, because it is so easy to type.

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I recently shared this article with parents' of one of our student's with ASD. After reading the article the parent shared how it definitely hits home with how difficult it can be to communicate well with the school AND their child's therapist. It's clear to me now that crucial conversations with parents is a must and that we should "acknowledge that parents and educators bring different kinds of wisdom to the picture of the whole child." We must work together as a team. A child can have the most supportive parents in a school with the most knowledgable staff but if the team is not on the same page when it comes to the child... all the experience in the world is not going to make a difference. In the end,  collaboration (consistency, continuity, and communication) is key.

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If you love binge watching shows on Netflix, and want to learn more about Autism (as told from the perspective of a teenage boy) I highly recommend this series. Season 2 goes as far as including the ASD community with 8 new cast members who are all on the Autism Spectrum.

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Atypical: Season 2 | Behind the Scenes: Introducing Sam's Autism Support Group | Netflix

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"Should we encourage students to embrace handwritten notes?" How many of us, as adults, are distracted when we use our laptops or phones to take notes during meetings or professional learning?

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Students come to school with various feelings (tired, sad, worried, scared, excited). Sometimes they wish to share and other times not. I have seen the suggestion of having a quick 1 minute meeting with up to 3 students in the mornings while the others get adjusted and wish I could accomplish this better. Those whom we know are having difficulty, we could aim to meet with more frequently.

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As a learner, it gives me great pleasure when I see myself improved in certain skills that I've been practicing for a period of time. When I am able to pass on my skills to the people who are in need, I feel the sense of achievement, and I would want to do even better.

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As a learner, it gives me great pleasure when I see myself improved in certain skills that I've been practicing for a period of time. When I am able to pass on my skills to the people who are in need, I feel the sense of achievement, and I would want to do even better.

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1. I also tend to retain more when I handwrite notes because I am forced to process information so that I minimize the amount of note-taking in the limited amount of time I have.

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1. I also tend to retain more when I handwrite notes because I am forced to process information so that I minimize the amount of note-taking in the limited amount of time I have.

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Answer one of these two questions by written reflection. 1.  What connections were you able to make in your personal life as a learner? 2. What connections were you able to make in your professional life as an educator?

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Answer one of these two questions by written reflection. 1.  What connections were you able to make in your personal life as a learner? 2. What connections were you able to make in your professional life as an educator?

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Writing notes down on paper has given my students an alternative medium to write their thoughts down and summarize information in their own voice, which provides them a method to consolidate information.

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Writing notes down on paper has given my students an alternative medium to write their thoughts down and summarize information in their own voice, which provides them a method to consolidate information.

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This article hits home when I think about my children coming to their teen years and being at risk of mental illness.  How will I know?  How will I be open to it?  How will I move forward in a supportive manner?  As an educator, it's my job to know...and yet I've had no training.  If one and five kids have mental illness, then without a doubt, we as teachers should be clear on the warning signs and on what our actions should be.  We are trained in child abuse..why not in mental illness?

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This article hits home when I think about my children coming to their teen years and being at risk of mental illness.  How will I know?  How will I be open to it?  How will I move forward in a supportive manner?  As an educator, it's my job to know...and yet I've had no training.  If one and five kids have mental illness, then without a doubt, we as teachers should be clear on the warning signs and on what our actions should be.  We are trained in child abuse..why not in mental illness?