Because what parent doesn't hope to see this? Here are some tips--from a recent piece in the Washington Post:
***********************************
I might not be good at some parts of this parenting gig: my son is
more obsessed with screens and technology than I’d like, and the whining
in this house regularly makes me want to cover my ears and lock myself
in the bathroom. But, much to my delight, all three of my kids are avid
book-lovers, and part of me wants to take credit for that. (That’s
always much more fun than taking credit for the less-desirable traits of
our children, isn’t it?)
Maybe part of it is luck and the
personalities of our kids, but much of it is not, and we parents can do a
lot to cultivate a lifelong love of books in our children.
Start early.
From birth (yes, birth!) we can read to our children. My mother has
commented that there were very few board books available when my
siblings and I were babie
My kids know their way around the stacks, the librarians all know us,
and thanks to my eager children, I regularly hit the checkout maximum
of 50 books per patron. It has been a part of our family life since they
were born, and they beg me to stop there on our rounds of errands.
Read to calm and reconnect.
Nothing, and I mean nothing, is better at my house than reading
together when the day has gone sour with little ones: the tantrums
(theirs, and maybe mine), the messes, the potty training accidents, the
sibling bickering. In these moments, reading to my children is a bit of a
rescue for all of us. The gift of the book is that whenever I open it,
it calms all the raw nerves, including mine, and rubs out the hard edges
of the day into something soothing, quiet, and close. Sometimes reading
can’t wait for naptime or bedtime, and I need to drop the vacuum or the
iPhone and just be physically and emotionally close with my children,
shepherded by a book.
Skip the “learn-to-read” books.
You are eager for your child to read, and he knows his letters and
sounds, so you sit down with the easiest “learn-to-read” set you can
find and try to get him to sound out each word. Please, don’t. In these
little books, any semblance of an interesting story is sacrificed in the
name of short sentences and the awkward and repetitive use of one
syllable “short a” or “long U” words, or whatever fits the theme of that
volume. My older two had no patience for sitting and sounding out
boring books when they were kindergarten-ish age, so we quickly dropped
them and just continued to read aloud while they naturally became more
developmentally ready to read. And each one did, in his or her time,
mostly skipping over the painful sounding-out process altogether. Even
better, they continued to love books, since reading never stopped being
associated with engaging stories and no-pressure togetherness.
Read even to the reading child, and read a level up.
Kids are usually ready to comprehend much more sophisticated plot and
vocabulary than they can read by themselves. My husband still reads to
our two older children, ages 7 and 9, every night before bed. It’s a
daily opportunity to connect, to expose them to advanced texts, and to
open conversations about tough moral issues. Over the course of a year,
they read the entire Harry Potter series when my daughter was just 5 to 6
years old. There is some heavy stuff in there, but she had her Daddy
chaperoning the whole way, and she understood it and she loved it. Down
the hall, I read to my 4-year-old. Starting a year ago, we kicked off
chapter books with Stuart Little, followed by Mr. Popper’s Penguins, the
entire Little House series, and many others. I stop often, making sure
she understands, commenting, and asking her what she thinks will happen
next. “Wow, Templeton really doesn’t want to help Charlotte and Wilbur,
does he? Why not? What do you think he will do?” Don’t underestimate
your kids – but stay with them.
Enjoy it. At our house, reading is not a milestone
to check off, but a beloved part of family time for all of us. Of
course, I still have to fight the screens, and the whining, and whatever
else is coming down the parenting pike. But the books are here to stay –
to teach us, to foster connection, to inspire and delight us, to see us
through.
Sharon Holbrook is a writer living in Cleveland, Ohio. You can find her at sharonholbrook.com and on Twitter @216Sharon.
***********************************************
Tuesday, March 24, 2015
Monday, March 23, 2015
INSPIRATIONAL STORY OF THE DAY
His parents seek support for their autistic son for his birthday--and they are overwhelmed with the response:
*********************************
*********************************
It started with a simple birthday wish; a dad asking Facebook friends to make his autistic son's ninth birthday memorable by sending well wishes.
When we first reported on the appeal in early March, Chad Kleis was already overwhelmed with a shower full of cards and packages for Hunter. He had no idea what was coming after the story was broadcast.
"Since then, we have had a good eight to nine full carts from the post office delivered," Kleis said. "We can no longer pick them up because there is so much."
The greetings and gifts have come from all over the world.
It all culminated this weekend with Hunter's birthday bash at Strikz Entertainment in Frisco, where scores of other autistic kids got to join in the celebration at a party where they weren't different.
David and Jamie Dingle's 10-year-old autistic sons was among the guests. "They understand each other. There's no judgment. When you get them together like this, it starts to become like a family because you realize what other parents are going through."
Tiffany Hudson donated her time to help make the event possible.
"It just makes my heart so happy that people are caring enough about Hunter to devote their time and their resources to make this one of the best days of his life, and I think that is absolutely amazing," she said.
Chad Kleis is now inspired to do this for others, so that more children with autism — who so often feel isolated — can know there is a world of support for them out there.
"It's so humbling to see people care, and that our story touched them in a very beautiful way," he said.
Kleis calls the bigger effort Hunter's Autism Specials. Click here for more information or to get involved with Hunter's Autism Specials. You can also e-mail Chad Kleis directly: ChadKleis@Hotmail.com
*******************************
Friday, March 20, 2015
GOOD NEWS DEPT: GRADUATION RATES UP FOR DISABLED STUDENTS
And here are the details:
*******************************
An increasing number of students with disabilities are graduating high school, federal officials say, though they still receive diplomas at far lower rates than other students.
The graduation rate for students with disabilities reached nearly 62 percent during the 2012-2013 school year, representing a rise of almost 3 percent compared to two years earlier.
The figures released Monday from the U.S. Department of Education’s National Center for Education Statistics come a month after federal officials said the nation’s overall high school graduation rate reached a record-high of 81 percent in 2012-2013.
Despite the gains, however, graduation rates for students with disabilities varied tremendously from one state to the next. Mississippi reported a low of 22.5 percent while Arkansas topped the list with over 80 percent of students with disabilities receiving diplomas.
The data accounts for the number of students nationwide who obtained a high school diploma within four years. Students who completed an individualized education program but did not earn a traditional diploma and those who were held back a grade were not included.
In addition to students with disabilities, the Education Department data also pointed to lower graduation rates among blacks and Hispanics, those from low-income households and students with limited English proficiency.
“While these gains are promising, we know that we have a long way to go in improving educational opportunities for every student — no matter their zip code — for the sake of our young people and our nation’s economic strength,” U.S. Secretary of Education Arne Duncan said.
Meanwhile, President Barack Obama emphasized the need for continued investment in education in order to see further improvements.
“Making sure that we’ve got high standards and high expectations for all our kids, and making sure that we are providing the resources to teachers and principals to meet those high standards. That’s going to be important,” Obama said in remarks following a meeting with school leaders at the White House on Monday. “Making sure that we are investing in special education and English learning for large portions of our student population that may need extra help. That’s going to be critically important.”
************************************
*******************************
An increasing number of students with disabilities are graduating high school, federal officials say, though they still receive diplomas at far lower rates than other students.
The graduation rate for students with disabilities reached nearly 62 percent during the 2012-2013 school year, representing a rise of almost 3 percent compared to two years earlier.
The figures released Monday from the U.S. Department of Education’s National Center for Education Statistics come a month after federal officials said the nation’s overall high school graduation rate reached a record-high of 81 percent in 2012-2013.
Despite the gains, however, graduation rates for students with disabilities varied tremendously from one state to the next. Mississippi reported a low of 22.5 percent while Arkansas topped the list with over 80 percent of students with disabilities receiving diplomas.
The data accounts for the number of students nationwide who obtained a high school diploma within four years. Students who completed an individualized education program but did not earn a traditional diploma and those who were held back a grade were not included.
In addition to students with disabilities, the Education Department data also pointed to lower graduation rates among blacks and Hispanics, those from low-income households and students with limited English proficiency.
“While these gains are promising, we know that we have a long way to go in improving educational opportunities for every student — no matter their zip code — for the sake of our young people and our nation’s economic strength,” U.S. Secretary of Education Arne Duncan said.
Meanwhile, President Barack Obama emphasized the need for continued investment in education in order to see further improvements.
“Making sure that we’ve got high standards and high expectations for all our kids, and making sure that we are providing the resources to teachers and principals to meet those high standards. That’s going to be important,” Obama said in remarks following a meeting with school leaders at the White House on Monday. “Making sure that we are investing in special education and English learning for large portions of our student population that may need extra help. That’s going to be critically important.”
************************************
Thursday, March 19, 2015
A MOEBIUS FAMILY--GOING ON TV!
So we all want to be sure and tune in to an upcoming episode of the TV show called "The Doctors"--because on that show will be Moebius mom Danielle Templer and family, including her son Maddox, who has Moebius Syndrome. This is a great thing; hopefully this can continue to build awareness concerning Moebius Syndrome.
What's "The Doctors"? You can read more about it here. Its website informs us that the show "is co-hosted by ER physician Dr. Travis Stork, plastic surgeon and reconstructive surgery expert Dr. Andrew Ordon and pediatrician Dr. James Sears; along with recurring co-hosts, OB-GYN Dr. Jennifer Ashton, urologist Dr. Jennifer Berman, and family doctor and sexologist Dr. Rachael Ross", and that it seeks to provide "the most up-to-date information regarding your health and wellness, as well as news-making medical stories that may affect you or your family. The Doctors strive to enlighten viewers with simple ways to attain and maintain good health."
I messaged Danielle a few days ago and asked her how their appearance on this show came about. She told me that what happened was that someone on the staff of the show happened to see a media story online about her family and her son; they contacted the Templers, and soon the appearance on the show was arranged. Danielle admitted to me that she was "scared to death" of being on TV (as would I be!!!), but they've done it; the show has been taped, and it be on TV beginning March 24th. Check your local listings for times and channels.
As I mused about this, once I heard about it, it occurred to me that the Templer's appearance has important lessons for us. 1] Undoubtedly the show found out about Maddox through media stories that appeared around the time of Moebius Syndrome Awareness Day. See, that's why it's so important for us to get our story out there, to contact your local paper or TV station when the time is right and tell your story. You never know what it might lead to; and you never just how much it could build awareness.
2] Absolutely doing this kind of thing CAN be scary. It's hard to put yourself out there with people (especially media members) whom you don't know. It's scary to go on TV and have those cameras staring at you, thinking that thousands, even millions, might see you. But you know what? It's okay to be scared. Even the bravest people in the world, the persons who have done the most courageous things, have been scared.
3] No, rather, the important thing--don't let that stop you. I applaud the Templers, and everyone else who has done this same kind of thing (don't for example forget about my friend Kelsey Ferrill from Canada, who was on CBC in January) for their courage in being willing to go on TV and tell their story, and for helping to raise awareness of Moebius Syndrome and thus raising peoples' consciousness concerning all kinds of physical and facial differences, really. By doing these kinds of things, more will realize that, yes, we're different; but we're people too and we're valuable, just as we are.
And so we raise awareness, one day at a time.
What's "The Doctors"? You can read more about it here. Its website informs us that the show "is co-hosted by ER physician Dr. Travis Stork, plastic surgeon and reconstructive surgery expert Dr. Andrew Ordon and pediatrician Dr. James Sears; along with recurring co-hosts, OB-GYN Dr. Jennifer Ashton, urologist Dr. Jennifer Berman, and family doctor and sexologist Dr. Rachael Ross", and that it seeks to provide "the most up-to-date information regarding your health and wellness, as well as news-making medical stories that may affect you or your family. The Doctors strive to enlighten viewers with simple ways to attain and maintain good health."
I messaged Danielle a few days ago and asked her how their appearance on this show came about. She told me that what happened was that someone on the staff of the show happened to see a media story online about her family and her son; they contacted the Templers, and soon the appearance on the show was arranged. Danielle admitted to me that she was "scared to death" of being on TV (as would I be!!!), but they've done it; the show has been taped, and it be on TV beginning March 24th. Check your local listings for times and channels.
As I mused about this, once I heard about it, it occurred to me that the Templer's appearance has important lessons for us. 1] Undoubtedly the show found out about Maddox through media stories that appeared around the time of Moebius Syndrome Awareness Day. See, that's why it's so important for us to get our story out there, to contact your local paper or TV station when the time is right and tell your story. You never know what it might lead to; and you never just how much it could build awareness.
2] Absolutely doing this kind of thing CAN be scary. It's hard to put yourself out there with people (especially media members) whom you don't know. It's scary to go on TV and have those cameras staring at you, thinking that thousands, even millions, might see you. But you know what? It's okay to be scared. Even the bravest people in the world, the persons who have done the most courageous things, have been scared.
3] No, rather, the important thing--don't let that stop you. I applaud the Templers, and everyone else who has done this same kind of thing (don't for example forget about my friend Kelsey Ferrill from Canada, who was on CBC in January) for their courage in being willing to go on TV and tell their story, and for helping to raise awareness of Moebius Syndrome and thus raising peoples' consciousness concerning all kinds of physical and facial differences, really. By doing these kinds of things, more will realize that, yes, we're different; but we're people too and we're valuable, just as we are.
And so we raise awareness, one day at a time.
Wednesday, March 18, 2015
WHAT SHE LEARNED FROM HER SON
Belinda Peters' son has Facial Palsy; he has a facial difference. She has learned a lot from him. For example: "I have learnt that I don't need to be a people pleaser. That I don't need to listen to people gossip about others' appearance, clothes or choices. Knowing difference means you no longer have time for those who tend to judge others based upon it. I've learnt to treasure and unearth the kind of people that I want my son to know – those who are accepting, honest and loving and who don't give a damn about what you wear or whether your house is messy." There are many more gems like these Read more about it:
***********************************
The moment is imprinted in my brain like it was yesterday – my first son, just hours old, held aloft by a paediatrician as she points out his asymmetrical face to a group of student doctors.
We were already so in awe and love with this precious, healthy, screaming bundle that we didn't think for a moment there could be something wrong.
Bust as I looked up, I saw it. His right eye remained open while his left was squeezed shut, his mouth pulled to one side as his cries echoed across the room. My husband and I looked helplessly at each other and back to our baby, as the doctor's voice faded in as she compared him to Sly Stallone and out as I struggled to comprehend what this all meant.
Our son, it turned out, was born with Facial Palsy, a little known condition caused by the absence of or damage to the 7th cranial nerve, which affects his ability to smile, blink and move his eyebrows on the right side of his face.
We were given two possible outcomes: that the paralysis was caused by birth trauma and it would right itself within four months, or that the issue was congenital and it would be here to stay. When he flashed me his first crooked smile when he was six weeks old, both happiness and fear flooded my body. I knew then that facial palsy would always be a part of our life and if he was to grow up different then so must I.
I mourned for the mother I thought I would be, lost in a sea of typical mothers with typical children, and grasped for the strength to be the mother I had to be. It took longer than I would have liked; I wasn't as kind to myself as I was to him; I listened too much to the voices that said "I can't even notice it" or "It's only cosmetic, isn't it?" while I ran my baby around to all his specialist appointments, to check his eyes, hearing, speech and have MRIs of his brain for a condition that no one understood or took seriously. Guilt, resentment and anger all settled heavily around my shoulders as I navigated my way through his early years.
But like anything hard won, now five years on, the perspective I have gained from that one little missing seventh nerve has somehow been the making of me. While I still worry about the challenges he will face and if he will find acceptance in a world obsessed with appearances, my son's facial difference has also taught me some important truths.
I have learnt that I don't need to be a people pleaser. That I don't need to listen to people gossip about others' appearance, clothes or choices. Knowing difference means you no longer have time for those who tend to judge others based upon it. I've learnt to treasure and unearth the kind of people that I want my son to know – those who are accepting, honest and loving and who don't give a damn about what you wear or whether your house is messy.
I have learnt not to judge others or myself so harshly. Knowing what it's like to walk along a path that I didn't expect has given me more empathy for the unexpected paths of others. I have learnt that a little kindness goes a long way and although it's infinitely harder to apply it to myself, I have learnt just how powerful it can be. If learning to be kind to himself is the one thing my son learns from me, my job here is done.
I have learnt that there is true beauty in difference and in turn I have learnt to embrace my flaws and the parts of my physical body that I've never liked. I've made peace with my freckled skin, my large calves and the nose that I've always felt was too big, and in doing so I model acceptance to my son, the type of acceptance that I'd like him to experience and pass on to himself.
In working through my son's diagnosis and the sense-making that was part of it, I have been blessed with the gift of connection to the facial palsy community. Last week (March 1 to 8) was the inaugural Facial Palsy Awareness Week, organised by Facial Palsy UK. People around the world wore half-makeup and half-beards and shared their personal stories to help others understand that while not life-threatening, facial palsy's impact – particularly psychological – is lifelong and shouldn't be overlooked. My social media feed was full of messages about the realities of living with facial palsy and photos of beautifully unique smiles just like my son's.
Overcome with the positivity of it all, I exclaimed to my son "Look, they smile just like you" and he looked up at me, flashing his widest smile, with all the joy funnelled into the left corner of his mouth, and said "What, like this?" and I felt it, the biggest lesson of all – unconditional love.
**********************************
***********************************
The moment is imprinted in my brain like it was yesterday – my first son, just hours old, held aloft by a paediatrician as she points out his asymmetrical face to a group of student doctors.
We were already so in awe and love with this precious, healthy, screaming bundle that we didn't think for a moment there could be something wrong.
Bust as I looked up, I saw it. His right eye remained open while his left was squeezed shut, his mouth pulled to one side as his cries echoed across the room. My husband and I looked helplessly at each other and back to our baby, as the doctor's voice faded in as she compared him to Sly Stallone and out as I struggled to comprehend what this all meant.
Our son, it turned out, was born with Facial Palsy, a little known condition caused by the absence of or damage to the 7th cranial nerve, which affects his ability to smile, blink and move his eyebrows on the right side of his face.
We were given two possible outcomes: that the paralysis was caused by birth trauma and it would right itself within four months, or that the issue was congenital and it would be here to stay. When he flashed me his first crooked smile when he was six weeks old, both happiness and fear flooded my body. I knew then that facial palsy would always be a part of our life and if he was to grow up different then so must I.
I mourned for the mother I thought I would be, lost in a sea of typical mothers with typical children, and grasped for the strength to be the mother I had to be. It took longer than I would have liked; I wasn't as kind to myself as I was to him; I listened too much to the voices that said "I can't even notice it" or "It's only cosmetic, isn't it?" while I ran my baby around to all his specialist appointments, to check his eyes, hearing, speech and have MRIs of his brain for a condition that no one understood or took seriously. Guilt, resentment and anger all settled heavily around my shoulders as I navigated my way through his early years.
But like anything hard won, now five years on, the perspective I have gained from that one little missing seventh nerve has somehow been the making of me. While I still worry about the challenges he will face and if he will find acceptance in a world obsessed with appearances, my son's facial difference has also taught me some important truths.
I have learnt that I don't need to be a people pleaser. That I don't need to listen to people gossip about others' appearance, clothes or choices. Knowing difference means you no longer have time for those who tend to judge others based upon it. I've learnt to treasure and unearth the kind of people that I want my son to know – those who are accepting, honest and loving and who don't give a damn about what you wear or whether your house is messy.
I have learnt not to judge others or myself so harshly. Knowing what it's like to walk along a path that I didn't expect has given me more empathy for the unexpected paths of others. I have learnt that a little kindness goes a long way and although it's infinitely harder to apply it to myself, I have learnt just how powerful it can be. If learning to be kind to himself is the one thing my son learns from me, my job here is done.
I have learnt that there is true beauty in difference and in turn I have learnt to embrace my flaws and the parts of my physical body that I've never liked. I've made peace with my freckled skin, my large calves and the nose that I've always felt was too big, and in doing so I model acceptance to my son, the type of acceptance that I'd like him to experience and pass on to himself.
In working through my son's diagnosis and the sense-making that was part of it, I have been blessed with the gift of connection to the facial palsy community. Last week (March 1 to 8) was the inaugural Facial Palsy Awareness Week, organised by Facial Palsy UK. People around the world wore half-makeup and half-beards and shared their personal stories to help others understand that while not life-threatening, facial palsy's impact – particularly psychological – is lifelong and shouldn't be overlooked. My social media feed was full of messages about the realities of living with facial palsy and photos of beautifully unique smiles just like my son's.
Overcome with the positivity of it all, I exclaimed to my son "Look, they smile just like you" and he looked up at me, flashing his widest smile, with all the joy funnelled into the left corner of his mouth, and said "What, like this?" and I felt it, the biggest lesson of all – unconditional love.
**********************************
Tuesday, March 17, 2015
FOR MOEBIUS ADULTS (AND OTHERS): THE HEALTH RISKS OF BEING ALONE
I thought this piece that I found today was interesting; because I know some of us adults with Moebius Syndrome DO sometimes prefer to be alone. Of course, there can be many reasons for this. Maybe you haven't set out to be alone; maybe that's just how your life has unfolded so far, and it can change soon.
But maybe your alone-ness (is that a word???) is something you have sought for yourself. Maybe having Moebius, having physical differences from others and perhaps speech differences, has made you shy. Maybe you get sick of the staring, the at-times uncomfortable relationships we have with others we don't know. Maybe you get tired of the fact people aren't used to your speech, and don't understand you (at first). Maybe all these things, and other factors, make you sick of people. I understand (I at times get sick of people too!) And sometimes being alone is just fine. I think many people NEED some alone time, some time to wind down and de-compress.
But still--and this is the reason I present the below article--there are some things to beware of, some things that perhaps are not so good, about being alone too much. For instance--it might not always be good for your health. Read on:
**********************************************
But maybe your alone-ness (is that a word???) is something you have sought for yourself. Maybe having Moebius, having physical differences from others and perhaps speech differences, has made you shy. Maybe you get sick of the staring, the at-times uncomfortable relationships we have with others we don't know. Maybe you get tired of the fact people aren't used to your speech, and don't understand you (at first). Maybe all these things, and other factors, make you sick of people. I understand (I at times get sick of people too!) And sometimes being alone is just fine. I think many people NEED some alone time, some time to wind down and de-compress.
But still--and this is the reason I present the below article--there are some things to beware of, some things that perhaps are not so good, about being alone too much. For instance--it might not always be good for your health. Read on:
**********************************************
Do you like being
alone? New research from Brigham Young University shows just how bad
loneliness and social isolation, even for people who prefer their own
company, can be for health.
The researchers
analyzed data collected from 70 studies and more than 3.4 million people
from 1980 to 2014. The studies, which followed people for about seven
years on average, showed that people who were socially isolated, lonely
or living alone had about a 30 percent higher chance of dying during a
given study period than those who had regular social contact. Notably,
the effect was greater for younger people than for those over 65,
according to the report in Perspectives on Psychological Science.
Julianne Holt-Lunstad,
the lead author, said the effect of loneliness and social isolation was
as great a risk factor as obesity and should be taken seriously as a
threat to public health.
“The key point that I
hope others will get from this is the recognition that this is an
important public health issue,” said Dr. Holt-Lunstad. “Social isolation
significantly predicts risk for premature mortality comparable to other
well established risk factors. Thus, we need to take our social
relationships as seriously for our health as we do these other factors.”
The researchers noted
that loneliness could take various forms. Some people with strong social
networks may still feel lonely, even when surrounded by loved ones.
Others choose social isolation and even prefer it.
Loneliness or living
alone seemed to be particularly bad for middle-aged adults, compared
with older people in the same situation. It may be that solitary
middle-aged adults are more likely to engage in risky behaviors and less
likely to seek medical treatment, whereas older people may pay more
attention to their health. Or it may be that older adults are alone as a
result of the death of a spouse, and have not necessarily experienced
years of social isolation.
The study authors
noted that affluent nations had the highest rates of individuals living
alone, and that social isolation would reach epidemic proportions in the
next two decades. “Although living alone can offer conveniences and
advantages for an individual,” the authors wrote, “physical health is
not among them.”
*******************************************
Monday, March 16, 2015
AWARENESS WATCH
Wow, it's been a while since my last post. Well, bad weather and then spring break can do that...
But meanwhile, here's a couple of positive developments recently when it comes to treating people, and considering people, with physical differences in a better light. First, a trip to the zoo proves to be transformative:
***********************************
CHICAGO — In her 18 years, Zinyra Ross has lived two distinct lives.
In one, she was isolated by severe cognitive disabilities, stigmatized by teachers as stubborn and uncooperative, and bullied and beaten by classmates. In the other, more recent life, she’s a public speaking ambassador, outstanding student, role model and mentor.
A determined single mom and a suburban school with strong special education resources helped shepherd her from one life to the other.
But the transformation of Zinyra mostly occurred in a somewhat mysterious way: She volunteered at a zoo.
“It just brings tears of joy to my eyes,” said Danielle Reed, her former preschool teacher. “It’s amazing.”
Zinyra’s metamorphosis personifies a hotly debated, growing body of research into whether human-animal interaction can be used to treat an array of disorders, from autism and post-traumatic stress to insomnia and cardiovascular disease. But scientific links are inconclusive.
Still, for those who know Zinyra, the zoo’s impact was clear.
“Her life changed that day,” her mother, Myra Ross, recalled of the morning her daughter entered Brookfield Zoo, in the town outside Chicago. “Everything changed about her. The independence, the confidence, her social skills. She was the kid who was teased because of the way she talked — or because she couldn’t talk. This is a kid who walked with her head down all the time.”
After accumulating hundreds of hours as an exemplary Brookfield Zoo volunteer over four years, Zinyra was hired part time last summer as a greeter, guide and teacher at the institution’s popular Hamill Family Play Zoo. Last spring she received a standing ovation after speaking to more than 600 people at the Chicago Zoological Society’s black-tie fundraiser on the zoo grounds.
In May, the special education department at Waubonsie Valley High School in Aurora, Ill., chose her as its Outstanding Senior. In September she opened a news conference for then-Gov. Pat Quinn, who wrote this to the girl whom many know as Z:
“Zinyra — You are my hero! I love you!”
Early challenges
The disabilities in Z’s life are broad, overlapping and a little unclear. A Pediatric Developmental Center evaluation when she was 11 noted “mild retardation, sensory regulatory disorder and repetitive behaviors.” That same year, an evaluation at the Rehabilitation Institute of Chicago placed her IQ at 60 and noted that her mother reported that Z burned herself with boiling water and stuck herself with sharp objects.
Over the years, psychologists, teachers and occupational therapists have told Myra Ross that her daughter exhibits “autistic tendencies,” including spinning, flapping her hands and never making eye contact. Today her official list of challenges includes significant impairments in reading, writing and math, and apraxia of speech, a disruption of messages from the brain to the mouth.
On the carpet in her bedroom is a worn spot where she still spins to relax.
“This is just a mystery,” Ross said of her daughter’s challenges. “It’s a little bit of everything.”
Born in April 1996 in Chicago and raised on the South Side, Z began displaying disabilities — particularly an inability to speak — early. Ross, a single first-time mother, was unsure what she was seeing.
One clear trait was Z’s near-obsession with nature and animals. Her favorite TV networks were Animal Planet and Discovery. Although she couldn’t read, Z loved to look at animal pictures in books.
“We would be in Englewood,” Ross said. “A bunch of sidewalks, a lot of glass, a lot of rocks. Z would go to a park, in the dirt and she would dig it up until she would find worms or these little weird bugs and she would, like, take care of them.”
At 2 years old, Z enrolled in Taylor Day School in Chicago’s Auburn Gresham neighborhood. Evaluations from her early years make repeated references to Zinyra having a behavioral problem.
Teachers reported that she didn’t socialize well with other children, would flap her hands frequently and would rarely sit still. Z was unable to make eye contact and would cry for long periods, teachers said. Preschool teacher Reed said she “absolutely” thought Z was on the autism spectrum.
In an effort to find a suitable school environment for Zinyra after preschool, Ross over the next decade placed her in three city public schools and tried home schooling. She met regularly with school officials to create an individualized education plan and found additional reading, academic and therapy programs for the girl.
Yet Zinyra’s developmental issues persisted.
Her speech was gibberish that teachers were unable to understand. Letitia Douglas, Z’s second-, third- and fourth-grade teacher at Morgan Elementary School in Gresham, recalls that her special education classroom was a haven for Zinyra. But the girl experienced teasing and bullying in the lunchroom and gym class, Douglas said.
She calls the change in Zinyra “awesome. I’m telling you, Every time I look at her now, I cry.”
But in elementary school, Douglas said, Z would sob “and get hysterical” while being teased. “Then they would call down to me to come and get her.”
The teasing took such a toll that Z regularly would come home in tears, picking at her skin, Ross recalled. In fifth grade, a classmate at Z’s third school, Carter Elementary in Washington Park, beat her so severely that police were called and filed a charge of simple battery.
Throughout the abuse, Z never retaliated, teachers and her mother said. But the girl was “terrified” to go to school, Ross said.
Hope and inspiration
In seventh grade, a spark of hope appeared.
Myra Ross heard about Brookfield Zoo’s Youth Volunteer Corps and called supervisor Debra Kutska, who welcomed Z. She turned 13, the minimum age for volunteers in the program, and mother and daughter drove 45 minutes to the zoo from their South Side home.
When Z finished that afternoon, she was thrilled, Ross recalled. Her daughter said everyone was nice and she’d made a friend, something Z had done only once before in her life, in sixth grade.
Although she was shy her first few months at the zoo, Z connected with other kids in unassuming ways, Kutska said. Zinyra knew a great deal about animals and was hungry to learn more. Her confidence, social skills and elocution improved. Always cheerful, she volunteered for additional days, Kutska said.
As the months passed, Zinyra became a mentor to other kids, Kutska recalled, partly because she so openly shared her challenges. When other kids without disabilities saw how far Z had come, she became an inspiration to them, Kutska said.
“I doubt she ever knew that,” she added.
That experience seemed to dovetail into her high school journey.
After deciding against the city’s public school system for her daughter’s high school education, Ross researched high schools with strong special education programs, settling on Waubonsie Valley High School in Aurora. She and Z moved to an apartment there a few weeks before the 2010 school year.
She was drawn out by a supportive staff and the school’s array of programs for students with special needs.
“Zinyra grew more comfortable with who she was as an athlete and gained confidence in all that she was able to do,” Waubonsie Special Olympics coach Sarah Kemerly said in an email. After excelling on the school’s Special Olympics basketball, bowling and track teams, Z now competes in those sports with the school district’s Special Olympics program for alumni.
Social worker Gina Bogin, who managed stage productions for students with special needs, said Z at first was afraid to go onstage. In a few months, she played the Wicked Witch in “Wizard of Oz,” then Alice in “Alice in Wonderland” and the wicked mother in “Rapunzel,” Bogin said.
She became a public speaking ambassador for Special Olympics and Best Buddies, a nonprofit that promotes friendships, jobs and leadership training for people with intellectual and developmental disabilities.
In spring, Z completed four years at Waubonsie and is now enrolled in the school district’s post-high school transitional program that teaches life skills to special education students.
“I believe all of them helped her develop into the person she is today,” Kemerly said of Waubonsie’s programs. She called the zoo program “vital.”
Studying human-animal connection
How and whether animals helped unlock Z’s potential is a small part of a lively scientific debate that explores the broader topic of animals’ potential to help the human condition.
Celebrated author, speaker and animal behaviorist Temple Grandin is a central figure. She maintains that her autism helps her think like animals and that animals are a safe way for people with autism to interact socially.
Kutska, who spent nearly eight years working with the teen volunteer program before leaving Brookfield Zoo last summer, said she has witnessed the power of the human-animal connection many times.
“The ability to come in here and spend the day learning and talking about animals does allow for a lot of transformation and growth for those students,” she said. “I see it in most of the kids who came through, no matter what their ability is.”
Marguerite O’Haire, assistant professor at Purdue University’s Human-Animal Interaction Research group, has been studying the subject for about a decade. In a study she published in 2013, O’Haire concluded that children with autism spectrum disorder were more social in the presence of guinea pigs than in the presence of toys.
The study “demonstrates that the presence of an animal alone … can increase social interaction,” she wrote.
A 2010 study she noted suggested that children with autism experienced decreased stress when interacting with service dogs. O’Haire also pointed to a study in 2003 that indicated human interaction with animals releases oxytocin, known as “the love hormone,” in children without autism.
Scott Lilienfeld, a psychology professor at Emory University, has reviewed dolphin- and equine-assisted therapies and found the evidence “equivocal” on whether they yield long-term improvement in psychological conditions.
Studies suggesting an enduring improvement are “not too rigorous,” particularly in understanding control groups, Lilienfeld said.
An effective therapist can use a topic a patient is passionate about to spark favorable change, Lilienfeld said, and he suggested that Z’s work around animals may have “started her on a cascade” of other, favorable developments.
“We probably could never know what actually happened,” Lilienfeld said, “but I’m not opposed to thinking that (her involvement at the zoo) could have unlocked some things.”
A ‘miracle’ in action
Zinyra starts her shift as a play program assistant shortly before 9 a.m. Mondays and Tuesdays and works until 5 p.m.
At her post in the play zoo one snowy Monday morning last month, Zinyra played with a little girl near the kookaburra cage, then stepped over to the lemur exhibit and ushered two children close to the glass.
Z’s speech can be muffled and she sometimes struggles to form words, but that morning, children and adult guests easily engaged with her.
Zinyra said the zoo “is like a little comfortable cover for me where nobody judges you.” Her favorite part of the job is meeting people from all over the world, she said. Her dream is to become a veterinarian.
The experience has helped her talk to more people, Z said, “and sometimes I get to help them out too.”
That morning she was the picture of poise, something that so many who knew her years ago find astonishing. Even Kutska, who saw it unfold, said she still gets choked up when remembering Z receiving a standing ovation after speaking to commissioners of the Cook County Forest Preserve District about three years ago.
“She doesn’t realize,” Kutska said, “the miracle that she is.”
*****************************************************
Meanwhile; elsewhere, when a team cheerleader with Down's Syndrome was being heckled by some in the crowd, the basketball team for which she cheered decided to do something about it:
********************************
When some in the crowd began taunting a cheerleader with special needs during a school basketball game, a group of players decided to put a stop to it.
Three players for the Lincoln Middle School team in Kenosha, Wis. walked off the court in the middle of their game to defend cheerleader Desiree Andrews, who has Down syndrome.
“The kids in the audience were picking on D, so we all stepped forward,” one of the players, Chase Vazquez, told WTMJ-TV in Milwaukee.
Since that game, the players and other students at the school have affectionately taken Andrews under their wing.
Moreover, the gymnasium where the incident went down is now known as “D’s House.”
Andrews, who will head to high school next year, called the name “sweet, kind, awesome, amazing.”
**********************************
There's a also a video at the link above; check it out. And good for those players!
But meanwhile, here's a couple of positive developments recently when it comes to treating people, and considering people, with physical differences in a better light. First, a trip to the zoo proves to be transformative:
***********************************
CHICAGO — In her 18 years, Zinyra Ross has lived two distinct lives.
In one, she was isolated by severe cognitive disabilities, stigmatized by teachers as stubborn and uncooperative, and bullied and beaten by classmates. In the other, more recent life, she’s a public speaking ambassador, outstanding student, role model and mentor.
A determined single mom and a suburban school with strong special education resources helped shepherd her from one life to the other.
But the transformation of Zinyra mostly occurred in a somewhat mysterious way: She volunteered at a zoo.
“It just brings tears of joy to my eyes,” said Danielle Reed, her former preschool teacher. “It’s amazing.”
Zinyra’s metamorphosis personifies a hotly debated, growing body of research into whether human-animal interaction can be used to treat an array of disorders, from autism and post-traumatic stress to insomnia and cardiovascular disease. But scientific links are inconclusive.
Still, for those who know Zinyra, the zoo’s impact was clear.
“Her life changed that day,” her mother, Myra Ross, recalled of the morning her daughter entered Brookfield Zoo, in the town outside Chicago. “Everything changed about her. The independence, the confidence, her social skills. She was the kid who was teased because of the way she talked — or because she couldn’t talk. This is a kid who walked with her head down all the time.”
After accumulating hundreds of hours as an exemplary Brookfield Zoo volunteer over four years, Zinyra was hired part time last summer as a greeter, guide and teacher at the institution’s popular Hamill Family Play Zoo. Last spring she received a standing ovation after speaking to more than 600 people at the Chicago Zoological Society’s black-tie fundraiser on the zoo grounds.
In May, the special education department at Waubonsie Valley High School in Aurora, Ill., chose her as its Outstanding Senior. In September she opened a news conference for then-Gov. Pat Quinn, who wrote this to the girl whom many know as Z:
“Zinyra — You are my hero! I love you!”
Early challenges
The disabilities in Z’s life are broad, overlapping and a little unclear. A Pediatric Developmental Center evaluation when she was 11 noted “mild retardation, sensory regulatory disorder and repetitive behaviors.” That same year, an evaluation at the Rehabilitation Institute of Chicago placed her IQ at 60 and noted that her mother reported that Z burned herself with boiling water and stuck herself with sharp objects.
Over the years, psychologists, teachers and occupational therapists have told Myra Ross that her daughter exhibits “autistic tendencies,” including spinning, flapping her hands and never making eye contact. Today her official list of challenges includes significant impairments in reading, writing and math, and apraxia of speech, a disruption of messages from the brain to the mouth.
On the carpet in her bedroom is a worn spot where she still spins to relax.
“This is just a mystery,” Ross said of her daughter’s challenges. “It’s a little bit of everything.”
Born in April 1996 in Chicago and raised on the South Side, Z began displaying disabilities — particularly an inability to speak — early. Ross, a single first-time mother, was unsure what she was seeing.
One clear trait was Z’s near-obsession with nature and animals. Her favorite TV networks were Animal Planet and Discovery. Although she couldn’t read, Z loved to look at animal pictures in books.
“We would be in Englewood,” Ross said. “A bunch of sidewalks, a lot of glass, a lot of rocks. Z would go to a park, in the dirt and she would dig it up until she would find worms or these little weird bugs and she would, like, take care of them.”
At 2 years old, Z enrolled in Taylor Day School in Chicago’s Auburn Gresham neighborhood. Evaluations from her early years make repeated references to Zinyra having a behavioral problem.
Teachers reported that she didn’t socialize well with other children, would flap her hands frequently and would rarely sit still. Z was unable to make eye contact and would cry for long periods, teachers said. Preschool teacher Reed said she “absolutely” thought Z was on the autism spectrum.
In an effort to find a suitable school environment for Zinyra after preschool, Ross over the next decade placed her in three city public schools and tried home schooling. She met regularly with school officials to create an individualized education plan and found additional reading, academic and therapy programs for the girl.
Yet Zinyra’s developmental issues persisted.
Her speech was gibberish that teachers were unable to understand. Letitia Douglas, Z’s second-, third- and fourth-grade teacher at Morgan Elementary School in Gresham, recalls that her special education classroom was a haven for Zinyra. But the girl experienced teasing and bullying in the lunchroom and gym class, Douglas said.
She calls the change in Zinyra “awesome. I’m telling you, Every time I look at her now, I cry.”
But in elementary school, Douglas said, Z would sob “and get hysterical” while being teased. “Then they would call down to me to come and get her.”
The teasing took such a toll that Z regularly would come home in tears, picking at her skin, Ross recalled. In fifth grade, a classmate at Z’s third school, Carter Elementary in Washington Park, beat her so severely that police were called and filed a charge of simple battery.
Throughout the abuse, Z never retaliated, teachers and her mother said. But the girl was “terrified” to go to school, Ross said.
Hope and inspiration
In seventh grade, a spark of hope appeared.
Myra Ross heard about Brookfield Zoo’s Youth Volunteer Corps and called supervisor Debra Kutska, who welcomed Z. She turned 13, the minimum age for volunteers in the program, and mother and daughter drove 45 minutes to the zoo from their South Side home.
When Z finished that afternoon, she was thrilled, Ross recalled. Her daughter said everyone was nice and she’d made a friend, something Z had done only once before in her life, in sixth grade.
Although she was shy her first few months at the zoo, Z connected with other kids in unassuming ways, Kutska said. Zinyra knew a great deal about animals and was hungry to learn more. Her confidence, social skills and elocution improved. Always cheerful, she volunteered for additional days, Kutska said.
As the months passed, Zinyra became a mentor to other kids, Kutska recalled, partly because she so openly shared her challenges. When other kids without disabilities saw how far Z had come, she became an inspiration to them, Kutska said.
“I doubt she ever knew that,” she added.
That experience seemed to dovetail into her high school journey.
After deciding against the city’s public school system for her daughter’s high school education, Ross researched high schools with strong special education programs, settling on Waubonsie Valley High School in Aurora. She and Z moved to an apartment there a few weeks before the 2010 school year.
She was drawn out by a supportive staff and the school’s array of programs for students with special needs.
“Zinyra grew more comfortable with who she was as an athlete and gained confidence in all that she was able to do,” Waubonsie Special Olympics coach Sarah Kemerly said in an email. After excelling on the school’s Special Olympics basketball, bowling and track teams, Z now competes in those sports with the school district’s Special Olympics program for alumni.
Social worker Gina Bogin, who managed stage productions for students with special needs, said Z at first was afraid to go onstage. In a few months, she played the Wicked Witch in “Wizard of Oz,” then Alice in “Alice in Wonderland” and the wicked mother in “Rapunzel,” Bogin said.
She became a public speaking ambassador for Special Olympics and Best Buddies, a nonprofit that promotes friendships, jobs and leadership training for people with intellectual and developmental disabilities.
In spring, Z completed four years at Waubonsie and is now enrolled in the school district’s post-high school transitional program that teaches life skills to special education students.
“I believe all of them helped her develop into the person she is today,” Kemerly said of Waubonsie’s programs. She called the zoo program “vital.”
Studying human-animal connection
How and whether animals helped unlock Z’s potential is a small part of a lively scientific debate that explores the broader topic of animals’ potential to help the human condition.
Celebrated author, speaker and animal behaviorist Temple Grandin is a central figure. She maintains that her autism helps her think like animals and that animals are a safe way for people with autism to interact socially.
Kutska, who spent nearly eight years working with the teen volunteer program before leaving Brookfield Zoo last summer, said she has witnessed the power of the human-animal connection many times.
“The ability to come in here and spend the day learning and talking about animals does allow for a lot of transformation and growth for those students,” she said. “I see it in most of the kids who came through, no matter what their ability is.”
Marguerite O’Haire, assistant professor at Purdue University’s Human-Animal Interaction Research group, has been studying the subject for about a decade. In a study she published in 2013, O’Haire concluded that children with autism spectrum disorder were more social in the presence of guinea pigs than in the presence of toys.
The study “demonstrates that the presence of an animal alone … can increase social interaction,” she wrote.
A 2010 study she noted suggested that children with autism experienced decreased stress when interacting with service dogs. O’Haire also pointed to a study in 2003 that indicated human interaction with animals releases oxytocin, known as “the love hormone,” in children without autism.
Scott Lilienfeld, a psychology professor at Emory University, has reviewed dolphin- and equine-assisted therapies and found the evidence “equivocal” on whether they yield long-term improvement in psychological conditions.
Studies suggesting an enduring improvement are “not too rigorous,” particularly in understanding control groups, Lilienfeld said.
An effective therapist can use a topic a patient is passionate about to spark favorable change, Lilienfeld said, and he suggested that Z’s work around animals may have “started her on a cascade” of other, favorable developments.
“We probably could never know what actually happened,” Lilienfeld said, “but I’m not opposed to thinking that (her involvement at the zoo) could have unlocked some things.”
A ‘miracle’ in action
Zinyra starts her shift as a play program assistant shortly before 9 a.m. Mondays and Tuesdays and works until 5 p.m.
At her post in the play zoo one snowy Monday morning last month, Zinyra played with a little girl near the kookaburra cage, then stepped over to the lemur exhibit and ushered two children close to the glass.
Z’s speech can be muffled and she sometimes struggles to form words, but that morning, children and adult guests easily engaged with her.
Zinyra said the zoo “is like a little comfortable cover for me where nobody judges you.” Her favorite part of the job is meeting people from all over the world, she said. Her dream is to become a veterinarian.
The experience has helped her talk to more people, Z said, “and sometimes I get to help them out too.”
That morning she was the picture of poise, something that so many who knew her years ago find astonishing. Even Kutska, who saw it unfold, said she still gets choked up when remembering Z receiving a standing ovation after speaking to commissioners of the Cook County Forest Preserve District about three years ago.
“She doesn’t realize,” Kutska said, “the miracle that she is.”
*****************************************************
Meanwhile; elsewhere, when a team cheerleader with Down's Syndrome was being heckled by some in the crowd, the basketball team for which she cheered decided to do something about it:
********************************
When some in the crowd began taunting a cheerleader with special needs during a school basketball game, a group of players decided to put a stop to it.
Three players for the Lincoln Middle School team in Kenosha, Wis. walked off the court in the middle of their game to defend cheerleader Desiree Andrews, who has Down syndrome.
“The kids in the audience were picking on D, so we all stepped forward,” one of the players, Chase Vazquez, told WTMJ-TV in Milwaukee.
Since that game, the players and other students at the school have affectionately taken Andrews under their wing.
Moreover, the gymnasium where the incident went down is now known as “D’s House.”
Andrews, who will head to high school next year, called the name “sweet, kind, awesome, amazing.”
**********************************
There's a also a video at the link above; check it out. And good for those players!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)