The Power of Parents
The new year is always a time to think of ways to create positive change. One of the greatest forces for change I’ve seen and been a part of involves parents joining together to help their children with learning differences. Many years ago my first job was at a public school in Marin County where I had a class of seven preschoolers, each of whom had multiple issues. On Fridays I stayed an hour later with the class, allowing the mothers to have a chance to meet in the classroom. They formed a group where they shared their struggles and successes. Together they problem-solved and truly helped each other. It was my first experience with this type of group and they clearly taught me the power of parents.
Recently I was invited back to the same school building in Marin County. It now houses a private school that is particularly accommodating to children with learning differences. The head of school and the director of another private school in Marin County had united to discuss children who required learning support. They also invited a third school in San Francisco to participate. Because parents at these schools felt they needed education and support, I was asked to lead a parent group.
I began by giving parents a framework to think about neurobehavioral issues. We discussed four kinds: those involving sensory-motor skills; social-emotional learning; reading and other forms of academic learning; and disorders of regulation. Determining the nature of such neurobehavioral issues as precisely as possible, and as early as possible, is what enables effective treatment. I went on to discuss the part played by genetics, and the considerable role played by a child’s environment. Very often, I said, whether something is defined as a problem is the result of existing expectations.
Thus one part of my talk that parents seemed to find most helpful was a discussion of when a difficulty becomes a disorder. For example, a child may have a sensory-motor issue that causes a lack of coordination. It may be a comparatively mild issue that causes a certain amount of clumsiness. If there are no consequences – if the child accepts the problem and recognizes his own value nonetheless, if the family is similarly accepting, and if other kids don’t make a big deal out of it— the child’s difficulty remains just that—a difficulty with a given skill set.
The difficulty becomes something more serious when it is regarded by the child or others as part of who that person is. If the child is teased by classmates, or berated by a more athletic parent, or starts thinking of himself as a klutz, the difficulty becomes a dysfunction. If the dysfunction persists and has an impact on other activities—if the child develops an internal sense of himself as a person who is a failure or is incompetent, or feels socially inferior, for example—then the difficulty has become a disorder.
In this way, surrounding expectations, values, and social norms may create a disorder. Dyslexia, a difficulty with reading, is a good example. In the Middle Ages, when few people were expected to read and write and a successful life was not dependent on those skills, dyslexia rarely became a dysfunction or a disorder. Today, when the expectation of literacy is much greater, dyslexia is a difficulty that generally has a substantial impact. But the effect of the environment also means that creating the right surroundings for a child to learn and thrive can help enormously. Even when there is a disorder, a normal life and wonderful childhood are still possible.
After I spoke to the parents at the three schools, they had a turn to talk, and what they talked about was their kids. Who they were. What was great about them. How they struggled in school or at home or in social situations. What helped them.
Many of the parents were enormously proud of their children’s progress. Some of them cried at the obstacles their children faced. I respected the depth of their passion to offer their children the best they could provide. I have been talking to parents for decades, and yet it still took me days to deal with the emotions raised by those sessions.
I saw that for parents just beginning to grapple with the problems of a child with learning differences, the child’s issue had become huge, rippling outward and seemingly impacting every aspect of a family’s life. It is part of my work—and part of what parents’ groups can do—to get the problem back under control so it is a merely a part of life. Acquiring the right sets of skills allows a parent to build on a child’s strengths. And yes, every single child I’ve seen does have strengths.
Normally I use this space to pass information to parents. But as the New Year begins I wanted to thank parents for everything they have taught me and taught each other. Together we can be a powerful force for change in the lives of the children we love.