Kate's Behavior Corner

When I started working with children and adults with Down syndrome, there was nary a grey hair on my head, and no wrinkles on my face. I had more bounce in my step, and Martha Hogan and I shared the ability to get up from sitting on the floor with absolutely no effort at all. This is only to let you know it's been a long, long trip with the Down syndrome community.

Partly because I've been around this long, I have the reputation for knowing a great deal about Down syndrome. It's fun to be able to share the information, to put together workshops, classes and handouts that help parents and teachers and the kids themselves. It's wonderful to meet new people of all ages, to find out what new things parents are exploring and then to share that information with another group. The little faces of your children never cease to charm me, and their progress and energy are amazing and heartening. Most importantly, I continue to learn so much from parents and children. Often the learning has something to do with what works for kids or parents, what new technologies, scientific advances, behavioral strategies, teaching methods are proving helpful. Usually I'm learning something about the kids - but when I'm lucky I am learning about myself. Here's the latest thing I'm learning from this work:

A most wonderful possibility exists; instead of working so hard to change how or what a child learns, I could relax into and enjoy what they already know. While I'm offering new information, I could focus instead on changing how I react and what I expect. What about believing that it's perfectly okay to move differently, that toilet training will happen in due time (yes, it really will!) and that taking time to learn and grow is a natural and good way to be? What if I showed someone how to do something new, and then waited to see what they did with that information? What if I acted as if their perspective was just as important as mine?

The most amazing thing about this paradigm shift is that when I apply it to people with disabilities, I am able to apply it to myself. When I accept that another's way of being is fine for them, that they have room for improvement but are really great right now - well, then I can begin to view myself in the same way. What would happen if we turned away from fear and sadness as a motivation for working on ourselves and our children? We could certainly learn better, feel better about ourselves, make better changes, better friendships if we didn't feel the need to 'get fixed' first. What a gift we would give to ourselves and to our children if we accepted that we really are all fine right now!