Asserting for an Excellent IEP: Seven Non-Threatening Questions

Parents, as you prepare to go back to school, you may participate in IEP or other meetings to build support for your child in the new school year. Since IEP and other meetings can degrade into adversarial contests, here are some questions you can ask to assertively clarify your expectations right from the start.

1. What has worked well for other students with Asperger’s at this school?

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2. What strategies can we put in place to help teachers and my child de-escalate conflict?

3. What kinds of self-calming behaviors or objects will you support?

4. My child needs a “safe person” to go to in times of stress. Who can fill that role?

5. My child is especially interested in ________________. How can you leverage that interest for academic success?

6. What plans do you have to protect my child from social trauma during unstructured time such as bus rides, lunch time and recess?

7. What information or access can I provide to help you support my child?

Seven Taboo Words for Spectrum Citizens

There are seven words that I see and hear used about people on the spectrum.
Each of them has enough truth to be tempting, and enough pain to be traumatic.
The first word is "ODD".

"Odd" has all sorts of connotations and overlays that separate Aspies from the rest of the population. It implies a standard of normal, and sets the spectrum-dweller apart from that standard.

The next word is one some Aspies use to describe themselves—they shouldn't...
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"FREAK" shows up in the title of at least one Asperger's book. This is one of the strongest pejoratives used about people with Asperger's.

Confessions of an Inconsistent Aspie

I have a quick thought about why people have trouble not misunderstanding Aspies. (I know there’s an implied double negative there, but bear with me.)

Two of the characteristics that lubricate social interaction are predictability and reproducibility. We create an interpersonal dance of action and response based on how we behaved last time and the time before. Like literal dancers, some of us are better at anticipating and improvising with our partner. Some of us are not.

I worked for a principal who was egotistical, imperious, image-conscious, and a workhorse. Most of us who worked for him found him cool and impersonal, but consistent. If you worked for this man, you always knew exactly where you stood, what he thought of you, and what your boundaries were. He wasn't particularly likable, but he was easy to work with.

I also worked for a superintendent, who was most effective at building emotional connections among the egos and quirks of district leaders. She could curse like a sailor to get a construction foreman moving, but she could also get on the floor with a nervous first-grader, dropping her voice and shrinking her body to facilitate interaction. She wasn’t inconsistent—she was consistently adaptive to the people around her.

This brings me to myself and other Aspies. We seem capable of high levels of observation, sensitivity, and cognitive awareness—but not always. We see details in the environment or in our friends that other miss, so we can be excellent observers. But we don’t always act on those observations with sensitivity or compassion. We feel, but we don’t always seem to feel for (compassion) or feel with (empathy).

In my limited experience, I am at my best when I observe correctly, adjust my affective stance accordingly, and provide an appropriate response to the other person(s). The problem is that this takes a lot of energy and focus, and sets an expectation that the next time I might get it right again. If I do, kudos! If not—condemnation.

This isn't an apologetic for people with Asperger’s Syndrome. I am one, and people like me drive me a little batty.

A lot batty.

So if you are or love someone on the spectrum, please don’t misinterpret our inconsistency. We might not even see the pattern that offends or disappoint you. I know this is crazy-making, but it’s true. We are sometimes as mystified by our interpersonal successes as we are frustrated by our interpersonal failures. We don’t learn from our mistakes as well, because we don’t always understand them. The energy it takes to autopsy a social failure isn't always worth the effort.

Thank you for gently and graciously pointing out the deficient patterns in our interactions. We can learn. When you help us scaffold our emotional behaviors with cognitive awareness, we can do better than just avoid mistakes. That’s a negative worth undoubling.

More insights from the Asperger's Expert are on the main page.