Don't say I told you so...
LauraI don’t often talk about my job here. My work as a speech-language pathologist for a non-public school serving developmentally and emotionally disabled children requires that I respect their privacy. However, I think it may be possible to speak in such general terms that I could possibly make a few remarks.
To say the job is challenging would be an understatement. The laws surrounding special education require a related service provider such as me to almost be superhuman. One can’t get sick or have family emergencies because the students one serves must get their services at all costs. It’s the law, friends! However, there is another law written on our hearts that makes this job all the more challenging. If I fail these kids, they lose the ability to make the connections in their lives that really matter.
I always, and still do, take my children’s ability to speak for granted. Both Ana and David were early and articulate talkers. Certainly this has something to do with the fact that their mother is perhaps a little more learned about communication than other mothers might be. But still, the hard wiring for language was connected from the get go. The language spark fired, and it continued on an unbroken path to their mouths. Ana and David could tell me what they needed, call my name, laugh at my goofy jokes, follow directions, listen to a story and understand it’s meaning and even enjoy it.
Many of the children I work with don’t have this unbroken wiring. Something isn’t quite connected and they come to us at the age of 3 never having spoken a word, screaming when they’re unhappy, inhabiting a world they’ve created in their own minds. Their parents are desperate. They want to connect with their children in a way that seems so basic and simple. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard a parent say, “I just want my child to talk.” The inability to communicate even at a basic level affects every aspect of these children and their family’s lives.
Consequently, I work on helping my students to communicate. Sometimes thinking and yes worrying about them takes over my dreams. One of my more vivid dreams of late involves one of my students, standing in front a refrigerator and extending a hand towards me with a cup. The child says, “I want juice.” Clear as a bell. If only it were so easy. At that time, this child wasn’t saying a word.
At our school, we try everything, teachers and staff alike including: oral motor exercises, sign language, picture exchange. Parents are almost always reluctant to try sign language or a picture exchange system with their children. “I want him to talk.” Well, I want him to communicate and if that means going through the back door instead of the front, then we’re going to do it. The magical thing is that once a child figures out that if he does something, he gets something, the sparks start firing. A child makes a sign for a desired item, cookie or juice, or hands a picture to an adult and then gets the cookie or the juice. It starts to make sense, this give and take of language. Somewhere in the brain a broken connection gets rewired or rerouted. The whole staff of our school takes this approach. We want them to communicate.
All the while I’m working a student’s mouth, trying to get him or her to move their tongue, repeat a vowel, a syllable, anything. And sometimes, the magic moment happens. More often than not, one of my student’s first babbles at the age of 3, 4 or 7 is, “mama.” You can see “mama” on the lips. It’s one of the easiest sounds to make. More often than not, my eyes flood with tears. This is a little embarrassing when I’m in a classroom full of students and staff. But really, I can’t help myself. Because my hope is that the child is going to go home, look at his or her mother and say, “Mama, I want juice.”
Because at that point, all the stress and worry is worth it. Connections are made and communication can begin. That’s what I do.
Reader Comments (2)
that's beautiful; one of my blog friends (I knew the dad in our growing up years) have a daughter with severe speech problems and she is slowly learning to say sounds via therapy and they are just thrilled to hear the simplest things, like the word 'mama' or hearing her pronounce the word/sound 'k'... so glad you have such meaningful work to do, even though it sounds hard at times.
You really begin to appreciate baby steps in this field! Thank you, Elizabeth!