Tuesday, August 18, 2015

US to fund less than one staff person per state to support special education information

Early in our 13 years of experience with special education we were surprised that our new country was unmapped. Surely someone had a map somewhere!

But they didn’t. Nobody has a map. There are Federal mandates, like IEP plans, that are common everywhere, but each state has its own details. Parents rely on organizations, like the Autism Society and Pacer, to fill the gaps. Parents with the ability to join volunteer at school or join volunteer organizations hear of essential programs by word of mouth. Relatively wealthy parents hire specialist lawyers to get the inside scoop.

Why isn’t there a map? I suspect it’s an emergent form of rationing. The demand for special education services far exceeds the supply; good maps would lead to a more conspicuous rationing mechanism (or lawsuits). I think this is true of many services, it’s not unique to special education.

Today there was an announcement of a DOE effort to improve the situation...

Special Education Training Efforts To Get Millions - Disability Scoop

… The U.S. Department of Education said it will grant $14 million to support parent training and information centers in 28 states and two U.S. territories over the next five years. The centers, which are located in each state, are designed to offer parents assistance with everything from understanding special education law and policy to interpreting results from evaluations….

I wonder why only 28 states. In any case, this comes to roughly $100,000 for each of the states and territories per year. After overhead I think that will fund a staff position, though that position will be lost when the grants run out. It’s not going to make a major change — the terrain remains unmapped. 

Monday, August 10, 2015

Magical thinking

Many people have superstitions of one kind or another. Our #1 has more than a few, and they contribute to his disabilities. For example, he bicycles miles out of his way to take certain favored routes for no reason he can describe.

He’s had these problems all his life. The only thing I can compare them too is a beloved dog of ours who developed an intractable aversion to the back yard of a new home. Nothing, absolutely nothing, would persuade her to put her paws on the unfrozen ground there. We have no idea where this came from, but it never wavered over the last seven years of her life.

It may be some dysfunctional associative learning — perhaps something unpleasant happened to #1 once and he forever associates it with a similar smell or shape or form. The rest of us can form these associations and dispense with them, but that process doesn’t work for him. This learning/memory dysfunction probably overlaps with some of the problematic compulsions we work on.

Sometimes we can find a workaround for the most troublesome aversions. One of these is a powerful aversion to any kind of bicycle adornment — including a saddle, frame, handlebar bag, a rack, or a lock. He’ll use the pockets of his bike shirt but that’s it. After some failed behavior change efforts we realized this fell into his “magical thinking” domain — reasoning is futile.

This is a safety problem because he rides his bicycle around and even beyond the metro area — thanks to our superb segregated bicycle paths.  Mobile phone technologies including Apple’s “Find Friends” mitigate some of the risk, but what if his phone fails? We need him to carry identification, emergency numbers, a multi-tool, a baggie to protect his iPhone in case of rain, coins for a rare payphone if one can ever be found and, ideally, auxiliary power for this phone. He’s not willing to put everything we want him to carry in his bike shirt.

We found a fix. He’s willing to carry these things in a bicycle bottle shaped container that’s stored in a typical frame mount bottle carrier. We put them in once and they stay there. One magical thinking problem solved.

There are a lot more of course. A direct assault rarely works. It’s all about finding these kinds of indirect solutions. We can’t always come up with them...

Tuesday, July 14, 2015

On being a special needs parent...

You are walking in a quiet wood. It is morning with a mild breeze. You dip your cup into the stream ...

An arrow sinks deep into the earth by your left foot. You leap forward, in mid-air notch an arrow and let fly on landing where you know your assailant will be. There are 3 of them, rested and deadly. The battle is joined.

The quiet returns. You dip your cup into the stream. You are always ready...

E prefers to think of this as akido, always equipoised to redirect the attack. I like ninja myself, cause I’m a guy.

It’s like that. You never know when a crisis will strike. When an innocent question will suddenly become a 30 minute negotiation. It’s like parenting a difficult 14yo, but it’s more and it lasts for decades.

No wonder studies show accelerated aging in special needs parents (though some of that may be financial distress related to cost of parenting special needs kids and adults).

On the up side, one never lacks a cause.

Wednesday, July 08, 2015

Imagining my son's memory

I want to understand how my son thinks, including how he remembers things. I think I can use that knowledge to help him be the best he can be. If I understood his mind, for example, I might be table to distinguish his memories from inventions and deceptions.

This kind of understanding isn’t easy. Not everyone thinks alike. Some “normal" people seem to think with visual images, other people, like me, do almost no visualization. Understanding the normal mind is hard, but my son’s mind runs on extra-buggy wetware. It’s even harder to model.

One clue comes from self-reports of people like Temple Grandin, an autistic adult and self-described intensely visual thinker. She writes about accessing ‘filmstrips’ to retrieve event data. Alas, my son’s mind, as best he can report, doesn’t work that way. [1]

Whether he visualizes or not I question the reliability of his memory. It’s not only that he has a hard time learning new things, he also seems to genuinely believe many things that are not true. These are generally plausible and self-consistent things that he would wish were true, but we know they are unfounded. I wonder if a fragmented memory architecture means that he is particularly vulnerable to the kinds of invented memories that are relatively easy to create in many adults. Maybe having a visual memory makes one particularly prone to invention of memories by visualization?

My experience with his memory, incidentally, fits with stories of low IQ adults who, under police interrogation, confess to crimes they didn’t commit. It’s easy to imagine him creating new memories out of suggestions.

- fn -

[1] It’s not easy to get him to try cognitive exercises (he suspects I have an ulterior motive, like, for example, changing his behavior), but I’ll try to get him to do the “window exercise” (count number of windows on one’s home, supposedly easiest for visualizers).

Sunday, July 05, 2015

Special needs: so now have to worry about ISIS recruiters?

The New York Times did a good job describing ISIS (ISIL, Daeshite) recruitment of a cognitively limited 23yo woman. She’s not explicitly described as adult special needs, but she has a fatal alcohol syndrome diagnosis and limited employment options. She’s not that different from the kids and adults we care for.

Unsurprisingly her ISIL recruiter is not terribly high functioning himself.

It reminds me of the relatively harmless cults of the 1970s, but in those cults there wasn’t a lot of upside to special needs recruitment The cults wanted fundraisers; a certain amount of psychological disability was a feature, but special needs was too much. ISIL may have more use for people with cognitive disabilities.

It’s not at the top of the worry list, but if you care for a special needs teen or adult with a net connection (smartphone, etc) you can probably add ISIL to the long list of predators of vulnerable adults. Not the top of the list, but something to watch for.

Yay connectivity.

PS. I’ve long wondered what Richard (“shoe bomber”) Reid’s IQ is, and whether he’d fall in the sub 70 range of diminished responsibility.

Saturday, June 20, 2015

Lessons from 18 years of a "disruptive mood dysregulation disorder" child

Just back from a Mountain Bike outing with #1. We had a great time. Can’t be that that many special needs NICA mountain bike racers; it’s something he’s proud of. He’s already telling tall tales of his daring runs. Another happy memory.

It didn’t have to be happy though. I’d planned a 3 day trip — some biking, some hanging, some other stuff. Instead after biking on day one he said he wanted to go home. Of course I’d already paid for two nights of peak season lodging.

It’s not clear why he cut the trip short, but in retrospect 3 relatively unstructured days was a lot for him. To make that workable I’d have had to plan out all 3 days in detail, and get the schedule on his iPhone calendar. I think he was also missing his sibs, especially since #2 is leaving for a 1 week autism away camp. Our kids are close, glued by shared struggle.

So this was yet another test for Dad - I’d spent the money, and now he wanted to bail. Did I fight for the principal of “commitment” or fold?

I said it was a happy memory, so you can guess I folded. The money spent was a sunk cost. It didn’t matter any more.  Once I told him we’d head home his mood transformed and we had a happy dinner. The next morning he hung out while I went off on a bike adventure of my own. We had a fun drive home. Tonight he remembers the trip fondly. I passed the test.

Our drive home gave me time to reflect. #1 is 18 now, and he’s “finished” [1] High School. Overall we’re about where I’d hoped we would be with him. There’s lots to work on, but he keeps making progress. Maybe we all did something right, not least his coaches and teachers.

So what did we do right? I think I can put it into 6 short phrases, 5 of which are deliberately familiar.

  1. Choose your battles.
  2. Make happy memories.
  3. Accentuate the positive.
  4. Cut your losses.
  5. Tomorrow is another day.
  6. Quit when you’re ahead.
Yes, 5 of the 6 are clichés. I did that deliberately; I realized I could take my original language and turn it into something superficially banal. Read it and try to imagine that you’d never heard those words before.
 
Here are the same ideas in the same order, but with different language…
  1. Greenes/Explosive child: Divide behaviors into A (irreversible harm risk), B (criminal, reversible harm, C (infuriating, obnoxious). Always work on A, take B selectively, C is nice to do.
  2. Make happy memories. Memories are made of doing things. Declare victory early. Take pictures. Put ‘em on the family screens. Burn the happy memories into the kids brains. Soon they’re programmed into thinking life was all happy. They forget the rest…
  3. Kazdin and Shamu: Reward desired behavior, ignore (extinguish) unwanted.
  4. Realize when you’ve got a losing hand and fold. That’s what I did today. After a while you know when you can win and when it’s time to remember what a sunk cost is.
  5. It’s not a sprint, it’s an ultra-marathon. Don’t burn out in one battle, there will be time to engage with a winning hand.
  6. When you’re winning, declare and celebrate victory. Don’t wait to see things to the end, celebrate the moment. Do this right and you have a heck of a winning streak. In this season, we have the power to define when each game ends and a new one begins.
- fn -

[1] He’s actually in an indeterminate state, which is a weird arrangement peculiar to special needs students. He completed his adapted course work, but after the graduation ceremony he was diverted from picking up his diploma. This magically keeps him in the school system, so he’s funded for a “transition” program that’s supposed to teach “work schools”. We think of it as 3 years of somewhat useful entertainment while his frontal lobes develop. I assume this weird arrangement is a time honored manipulation of old statute language.

I may write more about High School (the sports teams were the best part) and “transition” in future. There’s a lot to say, most of it mixed.

See also

Saturday, March 28, 2015

Personalized learning with a school iPad in special needs: Feedly and Pinboard shares

I may be have an opportunity to do some more writing, in which case I’ll have more to say about the good and imperfect aspects of our school district’s iPad-based personalized learning program for special needs students.

One imperfect aspect of the program is that it doesn’t exist just yet. The school iPad is real though, so #1 and I are doing something on our own. He completes daily assignments to earn home WiFi services for his school iPad. 

One part of the program that works well is using a Feed Reader [1], in our case Feedly. I’ve subscribed him to a number of Feeds including

  • 6 NYT section feeds [2]
  • 7 local and national road and Mountain Bike blogs, the latter has video feeds
  • Family Calendar feed and photo share
  • CNN Student News (video)
  • Sports: ESPN, Formula1, Golf
  • Local: streets, walking
His daily assignment includes reading one or more feeds and doing a verbal summary of something he’s learned.
 
Today I added a new feed, one based on my Pinboard shares. I use Pinboard as a microblog link-comment platform. Every Pinboard post tag has a feed, and via app.net PourOver and IFTTT rules I publish to Twitter, App.net and my own archives. I started tagging science and other things I want him to study with his first name, and then I added the Pinboard RSS for that tag to Feedly.
 
So when I see a great BBC visualization of exploring the earth’s core, I just add his name to it and it shows up in his Feedly reading list as assigned reading.

[1] When the school program started we could install approved apps from the School’s service app, or “free” App Store apps (meaning ad-supported or exploitative, so superb educational apps like DragonBox are unavailable). So we went with Feedly as a feed reader. Feedly has actually worked quite well, but sadly the school has ended the App Store service leaving many apps of interest to special needs learners in limbo. If Feedly stops working I’ll switch him to using either AOL’s free Feed Reader or Feedbin.

[2] He reads at a 4th grade level. I don’t know why he likes to read the NYT.

Sunday, March 01, 2015

Things we might have done differently: High School

#1 is finishing High School. Some good things have happened in High School, but if we could rerun the tape we’d have tried something different — perhaps a local charter school that specializes in autism disorders.

The Junior and Senior years have been remarkably weak. I think this is partly due to local conditions; we’ve seen problems with leadership, policies, and funding — particularly funding and support for class aides.

I don’t think that’s the whole story though — I suspect very few schools or school districts have figured out how to manage special education for ages 16-19, particularly in integrated settings.

I’m concerned the post-secondary “transition” period will be no better — particularly since care of special needs adults in the US seems to be replaying the history of psychiatric deinstitutionalization (note - did not go well the first time).

No particular words of advice here — except don’t be afraid to do something different after middle school. You might not do better, but you probably won’t do worse.

Saturday, February 28, 2015

Curbi - iOS controls for special needs teens and adults

curbi gives parents, guardians and other caregivers the monitoring technology Apple built for corporate customers. It’s $7/month “Per household”.

You can’t use it with school iPads because they already have similar “management profile” technology installed. It should work with home devices.

It’s something I’m considering.