Around Wednesday of last week, Curtis started telling me I had to bring him to school early on Friday so he could hang up the numbers. I didn't know what this meant and he had a hard time explaining it. He reminded me about 10 more times before Friday morning and got antsy when the day came that we wouldn't get to school early enough. He explained as we walked to school that each Friday, three sets of numbers were hung up and he wanted to be the one to do it. I believe he thought someone might beat him to it if we weren't at least 10 minutes early. When we got to the classroom, he showed me where the rest of the number lines were and how eventually they would wrap around the entire classroom. He then surrounded himself with the numbers before telling me there was 200 numbers total and he thought there should be more. He was especially excited about the negative numbers that started the border.
Curtis finds great comfort in numbers as do many on the autism spectrum. Before he began drawing roads, he used to regularly write strings of numbers with his sidewalk chalk. He does Sunshine Math in his free time or to calm down when he's feeling stressed, including multiplication. Since kindergarten he has been able to remember the birthdays of all his classmates and has long since had his family members birthdays committed to memory. He loves license plates and keeps an old one on his desk that he says he wants to put on his car when he is 16. He memorizes plate numbers as well. Curtis remembers a variety of phone numbers and can recite them even when he hasn't seen or dialed them in some time. He remembers street addresses with ease and seems destined for a fascination with social security numbers, bar codes, and any number of other numeral strings.
Curtis has shown similar aptitude with letters. He knew the alphabet and was reading by the time he showed up for kindergarten and aces his spelling tests now in second grade. But his relationship with numbers seems more intense than with the alphabet. He gets energized by numbers and as a parent who sucks at math, it's exciting to see where that interest could take him. Tomorrow is Wednesday so I'm sure the chatter will begin that there's two days until the next sets of numbers go up and how we'll have to be sure to be the first ones from his class to show up at school and hang them.


Greg, Dad

Curtis and I are on the brink of our third year together, tackling both the successes and the struggles that public school throws the way of children with autism. We have had our fair share of success and struggle, among them has been having my position get cut every spring due to myself being a "new" hire in the district. Because so much of his success at school comes from our solid relationship -  this news always throws us for a loop in the last week of school. However, it also gives me a very clear reality check on both the fragility of my position and my work with Curtis. Thankfully, over the past two summers I have been re-hired after a great deal of advocating from Greg and Laura, the school I work for, and the simple fact that the district can not do without an IEP position, especially one that has been so successful. I am humbled to say the least and always enter the following year with more fuel in my fire. What happens in the spring is, inevitably, very fresh in my mind the following fall.

I was taught in grad school that its the ultimate goal in working with my clients to "release" them some day - ultimately I want to work myself out of a job. This was told to me when I was in getting my MSW and training to be a counselor, however I take this advice to heart every day with Curtis. This may seem odd at first to hear but there is a beauty to letting go that is very powerful when working with kids. While I love Curtis inside and out, I also want him to not need me some day. I want him to have the tools inside himself to navigate the school hallways and classrooms with more independence and self-confidence. I want his friends and his peers to do my job and I want Curtis to feel as comfortable with his friends (or perhaps just one) as he does with me. I want Curtis to be proud of exactly who he is and I want him to shine with uninhibited happiness. We are almost there - little by little - and it is quite a sight to see and experience. Having my position cut every spring reminds me of this goal and makes me work that much harder to get him there the following fall.

However until that "letting go" moment arrives I will still be outside the school waiting for him as Greg drops him off in the morning. I will still be with him every minute of the school day either front-loading or pulling back when needed. I will challenge and support him, I will accept him as is and I will wish him a good night once Laura is there to pick him up at the end of the day. Curtis will have his daily targets that he needs to meet. He will have his rewards to earn, he will have his social groups, he will have his advanced math and reading groups and he will have moments in the day that throw him for loops and frustrate him.

A seven hour day with Curtis can be jammed packed. One day last year, I had him out in the hallway doing math that was a few years ahead of his class and a veteran teacher came up to me and said, "I think Curtis is the hardest working student in this school." I thanked her very much for the compliment but asked her if she would tell that to Curtis. Once she did - Curtis' eyes widened up,  he looked at me and smiled and then looked back at her with this look that could have said "Well, what else would I be doing here?" Curtis may think he comes to school to simply meet his targets and get his reward but there is something else going on underneath all of that that I am so lucky to witness every day. I truly can not wait to see him walk up the sidewalk on September 6th.

Caron, 1:1 School Support