Flexible Thinking in How We Help Spectrum Students

Last year, I blogged a bit about a "Harvester" with autism who enjoys gardening. (Harvest is a Charlotte Mason style school where Pamela and I hang out.) We have several spectrum students in our school, and they are all so different. As the saying goes, if you've met one person with autism, then you've met only one person with autism. We have one boy who "missed" a lot of classroom time last year because he was on a very difficult journey from learning to co-regulate (master his reactions with the help of someone) to self-regulate (know when to excuse himself or ask a teacher to help him deal with a stressful situation). This year, he's learned the lesson so well that he's never out of class. Point One: Sometimes, taking a huge step back fosters a huge leap forward!

Another spectrum Harvester came to us last year from a self-contained classroom, labeled as nonverbal. His real issue is slow processing. When we gave him time to process, he talked. Once he realized that we would wait for him, he began to talk more and more and more, a little bit faster, a little bit faster, and a little bit faster. After the morning meeting, he needs time to eat a snack and burn off energy. Then, he is ready to join his peers for class. He works all day in class at his own level. He goes through an occasional giddy spell and has to leave class until he gets a grip. Point Two: Sometimes, labels are not accurate.

Here is the update on Eman, who could only handle an hour at school just over a year ago and who now stays all day and after school to play with friends. Last year, our goal was for him to work up to a full day at school. While he made it through most days, he left at lunch whenever he had a tough morning. Some mornings were tough, and I believe one issue was that he knew he had an out. His mother assisted the primary class teacher in the morning and went home for lunch. In the back of his mind, he knew he could go home if he acted up enough. Point Three: Some behaviors are deliberate, and they are the trickiest to figure out.

The good news is that we have figured it out. Over the summer, his mother chatted with him from time to time about having to stay all day. Why? This talented lady has joined us as the primary class teacher! The first term he stayed all day, but some days were very tough. Eman is wonderful and, when fully regulated, he is a delight. He gets excited about a story; he stays very engaged; he begs to help. The day we planted seeds in the winter garden he had a hard time taking turns because he wanted to do everything. When he notebooked the garden, he drew his dream garden which included a fountain and a hot tub. He has a big heart and a big imagination. Point Four: Every child, however challenging, has good qualities!

What was the trick? Eman is easily bored, but he needs some structure. Spending all day, in the same class, with the same kids, with the same teacher was a little too much sameness for him. His mother and our headmaster brainstormed a new schedule that gives him variety within a routine. He joins the morning meeting for the devotion, pledge, song, habit talk, and Spanish and then he has a snack. Low blood sugar can ruin a day for him. Then, he goes to the headmaster for independent work: listening to an audio book, notebooking it, and map work. Then, he joins Pamela and I for literature: we practice the fighter verse of the week, read a poem, read from two different literature books, and prepare for Shakespeare on Thursday. Then, he goes to his mom's room for math and heads to lunch. After lunch, he goes to recess and comes back in for copywork. Then, he and Pamela join the junior high in the big room for history and science in the afternoon. I am teaching that class so the junior high teacher can continue to build a solid relationship with him because he will spend several years in her class. Point Five: In spite of what many believe, rigid routine does not help autistic children.

How have things been going for Eman? Surprisingly well. He's only had two tough days all term. On one day, he tested us and realized that he prefers choosing to do the right thing even though he does not always feel like it. The other day was a combination of a cold and a death in the extended family.

The Tale of the Sleeping Fish: A Parable of Mental Habits

Attention, the power of turning the whole force of the mind upon the subject brought before it.

Concentration, which differs from attention in that the mind is actively engaged on some given problem rather than passively receptive.

Intellectual Volition, the power, that is, of making ourselves think of a given subject at a given time;––most of us know how trying our refractory minds are in this matter, but, if the child is accustomed to take pleasure in the effort as effort, the man will find it easy to make himself think of what he will. ~ Charlotte Mason

Once upon a time, there were fourteen fish — thirteen swam around while one slept behind a plant. As they were new to this tank, they weren't quite familiar with how things were done. They didn't realize when they were to be fed, much less in what direction their banquet would appear.

One morning, the fish were quite hungry, but they didn't realize it was time for a feeding. They heard a strange creaking sound but hadn't yet connected it to the arrival of food. After the tank lid was opened, a boy and his friend sprinkled fish flakes on top of the water. The two watched the fish and waited and waited and waited for something to happen. None of the fish noticed the food floating above them. The boy and his friend giggled about the fish that were oblivious to their meal.



After several very long minutes, one fish flake slowly drifted down. The boy and his friend began to wonder which fish would spot it first. None of the fish paid attention to the flake until it fell halfway down the tank. Suddenly, the white fish with red blotches spotted the food and gobbled it up. The other thirteen fish didn't even know they had missed something. The boy and his friend began to giggle some more.



That fish remembered where the food came from and swam to the surface of the water. It gobbled up flake after flake. Then, another fish noticed its friend eating food at the surface and joined the feast. Before another minute passed, five fish had gobbled up most of the fish flakes. The boy and his friend tossed in more flakes and, by then, all the fish were at the surface gobbling food — all but one fish — the one sleeping behind the plant.



The boy and his friend watched and watched and waited and waited for that sleepy fish to wake up. It looked awake for its eyes were open. Clearly, it had no idea what it was missing. The boy and his friend waited for several minutes and then the jaws of the sleepy one began to move as if it were chewing. Perhaps, it heard the sound of its friends eating.



Its mouth grew wider and it chewed almost like a cow. It slowly drifted up from behind the plant. Then, the fish realized it has almost slept through breakfast. It zoomed to the surface of the water! Since the food was nearly gone, the boy and his friend sprinkled a few more flakes for the sleepy head.



Morals of the Story

Attention - Children are born with natural curiosity unless something hinders it. Sometimes, physical or brain issues get in the way. Sometimes, the education system encourages them to pay attention to earn cheap rewards (grades, test scores, awards, candy). When offered nourishing food (ideas found in living books and real things) and allowed to explore them with an active mind, they eventually learn to pay attention. Some take longer than others to join the feast.

Concentration - Children who have stayed too long in a stultifying atmosphere take awhile to wake up. My friend who fed the fish in this true fish tale, came to our school, highly resistant. He associated school with people who said "GREAT JOB" and "CALM DOWN". He associated school with long, tedious tasks and nothing that interested him in the least. He associated school with being asked to do things that were outside of his zone of proximal development.

As a result, he had developed the habit of balking when asked to do most things. It took some time and patience but we focused on developing a relationship with him. We kept lessons short and offered interesting things for him to do with free time. We consistently expected him to do little things within his reach and letting him do things he finds interesting — things like poring over animal books and magazines, feeding the fish, replenishing the bird feeders, cleaning the pond, working in the compost bin and garden, etc.

There was a time when a drawing in a nature notebook was "too hard" or "too boring." Now, he draws something and writes a sentence. He even drew a comic of the fish tale because he found the fish tale hilarious. Below is the nature notebook entry he made the day the school got the fish. He has gone from concentrating on how to get out of work to doing it so he can concentrate on what interests him.



Intellectual Volition - Some take a long time to find intrinsic motivation, especially if the education system hasn't been a good fit. Eventually, the sleepiest of minds or resistant minds or unfocused minds will find enough living ideas to find pleasure in the effort.

Anxiety the Note of a Transition Stage––Every new power, whether mechanical or spiritual, requires adjustment before it can be used to the full.... But to perceive that there is much which we ought to do and not to know exactly what it is, nor how to do it, does not add to the pleasure of life or to ease in living. We become worried, restless, anxious; and in the transition stage between the development of this new power and the adjustment which comes with time and experience, the fuller life, which is certainly ours, fails to make us either happier or more useful. ~ Charlotte Mason

Mirror Neurons and Habit Training

Before sharing thoughts on physical habit training, I thought share some news I alluded to last month. I've started a math blog focused on helping parents and teachers to see the beauty and joy of math. Math lovers and haters alike are invited to read about captain ideas that inspire me. Many of the downloads or ideas shared are great props for doing RDI. Yesterday, Pamela and I made picture frames through paper sloyd. I curve stitched mine. If you want to learn more, head over to my new blog!

Today's contribution to the Charlotte Mason Blog Carnival how mirror neurons (MN) play a role in physical habit training. Mirror neurons in the brain fire not only when we perform an action but also when we watch someone perform it. The activity in the brain is the same whether we do something or we see it modeled for us. Some believe mirror neurons are important to imitation, empathy, social, and language development, which are all affected in autism.

RDI consultant Simona Onnis outlined the role mirror neurons have in learning as follows:

• Child visually observes (sensory).
• Child observes a motor action (motor planning).
• Child applies meaning to the action (activation of MN), by understanding the intention of the one who acts and by anticipating the possible goal of action.
• The child retains the experience in his memory (retention).

Yesterday, Pamela and I made picture frames using paper sloyd. This model is the third one elaborating upon a 6" by 6" square. Pamela learned how to construct the square using a ruler and pencil. We made a paper envelope for our first model. I took a small step, briefly explained it, pause, and waited expectantly. Drew a point at the top, described, and waited for her to do the same. Drew a point in the middle, described, and waited. Drew a point at the bottom, described, and waited. We followed the same process for drawing a line, rotating the paper, drawing more points and lines, etc.

Last week, we made a wall pocket out of the square and, yesterday, the picture frame. Because each model begins with the same square, Pamela learns to tap into her episodic memory. Next week, we will make a pinwheel beginning with the 6" square. The article about mirror neurons explains how to make sure we give our children the opportunity for their mirror neurons to fire in sharing an experience. Paper sloyd done right fits the bill. First, we are making little keepsakes with our hands. Each model involves following a pattern which is elaborated upon from one model to the next. Varying the pattern makes the process dynamic. I work slowly, involve nonverbal communication, and speak descriptively rather than rely on commands. I pause and wait for Pamela to engage. At certain points, I say or do something to increase anticipation or invite curiosity.

I take these same steps with children in the spectrum at our school. Eman recently shifted from half to full days, so he didn't know that students have chores after lunch. Before heading out to recess, they do a chore and sit down to wait for recess. After he finished eating lunch, I said to him, "Guess what?"

"What?" he said.

"Do you know what kids do before recess?"

"No, what?"

I pointed to Tman, a friend that Eman admires. Tman was wiping the book shelves with a duster. Eman said, "What's that?"

"A duster! The kids have chores after recess."

He saw a duster on the table and asked, "Can I help?"

"Sure!" So, I called Tman over and told him that Eman would like to help. I just sat and watched while mirror neurons and partnering with a peer took care of teaching Eman what he needed to learn. When they were finished, Eman was wandering around, so I said to him, "Poor Jman!"

"What's wrong?"

"Jman's chore partner isn't here today. He has to wipe four tables all by himself." I pointed to Jman who was busy with a Clorox wipe.

"Really? Can I help?"

"Yes! I know he'd appreciate that!" So, I called Jman over and Jman came up with roles. "Hey, Mrs. Tammy, I could pick up things while Eman wipes under them." I told him that was a great idea. The two of them wiped the last table together.

Again, I spotted Eman wondering, so I let his mirror neurons figure out something else. "Do you know what the kids do while they wait for recess?"

"No, what do they do?"

I encouraged him to look around and he said, "Some are sitting quietly." Then, I pointed to one of the teachers and explained, "Mrs. Jenn is watching to see who is ready for recess. The way you tell her is by sitting quietly. She calls the quietest kids first." His eyes widened and he sat down, lips sealed. He didn't say a single word and, to his delight, she called him first to recess.

In this case, learning to do chores was to prop to a more important lesson: watching what others do and copying their good choices. Eman loves helping people: he's eager to help me push in the chairs, take care of the pond, sweep the outdoor patio, and walk to pick up lunch. Watching people do good deeds helps him develop a habit of service and builds positive memories of making the world a better place.

Alertness – Many a good man and woman thinks regretfully of the opportunities in life they have let slip through a certain physical inertness. They missed the chance of doing some little service, or some piece of courtesy, because they did not see in time. It is well to bring up children to think it is rather a sad failure if they miss a chance of going a message, opening a door, carrying a parcel, any small act of service that presents itself. (Page 108)

Seizing Opportunities

This year, the bimonthly Charlotte Mason Blog Carnival is spending an entire month on one suggested theme from Mason's third volume: School Education. January's topic is physical training, and, as a graduate of the United States Naval Academy, I have had my fair share of that! Since this blog focuses on autism, homeschooling, and now private schooling, I'll turn to one aspect of physical training that is vital for all of us, but especially people in the autism spectrum.

Mason believed that an alert child will have more opportunities to see. Opportunities to do what? To serve others, to gain knowledge, to do something. Imagine for a moment what a daunting thing that can be to teach a child in the autism spectrum. First, let's read what my favorite educator wrote,

Alertness.––Many a good man and woman thinks regretfully of the opportunities in life they have let slip through a certain physical inertness. They missed the chance of doing some little service, or some piece of courtesy, because they did not see in time. It is well to bring up children to think it is rather a sad failure if they miss a chance of going a message, opening a door, carrying a parcel, any small act of service that presents itself. They should be taught to be equally alert to seize opportunities of getting knowledge; it is the nature of children to regard each grown-up person they meet as a fount of knowledge on some particular subject; let their training keep up the habit of eager inquiry. Success in life depends largely upon the cultivation of alertness to seize opportunities, and this is largely a physical habit. We all know how opportunity is imaged––a figure flying past so rapidly that there is no means of catching him but, in advance, by the forelock which overhangs his brow (Page 109).

I believe the number one thing parents and teachers do to discourage autism spectrum children from thinking is to issue commands. I know we're often in a hurry. Our kids process more slowly. But, if we consistently give them directives, they only have to be alert to us. They don't have to pay attention to their environment, much less persons in their environment.

One child with autism rarely looked at anyone at the beginning of the school year. I suspect that a steady diet of "look at me" prompts was the issue. He didn't realize the benefits of looking at people because others were looking for him. The adults at our school use a different style of communication as described in my friend Di's poster. While we may help students observe, we encourage them to think for themselves.



Slowly, over time, things began to change for him. Because he wasn't paying attention to his classmates, he appeared to cut in line. For a couple of weeks, in our half hour of individualized work, we played follow the leader. The leader took all sorts of unexpected and circuitous routes. He had to be alert to changes in direction even though he knew the expedient way to put lunch bags in the refrigerator. After that, he had no problems in line.

Because we rely more on facial expressions and gestures and not on commands, he has learned to be alert to what we say with our bodies as well as with our words. He has learned to look in the direction of the speaker during group time as well as share joint attention when it's just two people. He is even trying to play with his friends at recess. He is growing in awareness of how his actions affect his friends.

Pamela has come a long way in cultivating the habit of alertness. She enjoys doing little things for me like retrieve the mail every day, bring groceries in the house, and carry our lunch bags into the school. She shops for things and helps us remember all sorts of details. Occasionally, I've completely forgotten about meals on wheels until she reminded me! She still has some lessons to learn. She doesn't always remember to hold the door when I'm behind her.

And, what do I do? Do I prompt her to hold the door? No!

Sometimes, I wait until she realizes she has left me behind.

Sometimes, I cry out, "Hey! What about me?"

Sometimes, I catch her before the door slams and say, "My hands are full."

Sometimes, I knock on the door.

By avoiding the direct command, "Hold the door," I'm requiring her to be alert to my needs and to think for herself what opportunity she can seize. Mason knew that direct commands lessens the ability of a child to remember. In training Johnny to shut the door, she didn't give him a direct command when he forgot. She calls his name pleasantly. She makes a declarative comment, "I said I should try to remind you." The mother of the girl lacing her boots uses eye contact and facial expression to remind her to work more quickly.

Finally, alertness is a two-way street. For us to cultivate alertness in our children, we must cultivate it in ourselves. Once we settle on a new habit to form, we must be watchful of those situations in which the habit can be trained naturally. We must be alert and spring into action with wide and varied responses of indirectly reminding our children of what is not to be forgotten. We are wise if we mind Mason's words about our own habits: "Tact, watchfulness, and persistence are the qualities she must cultivate in herself; and, with these, she will be astonished at the readiness with which the child picks up the new habit" (Page 122).

Experiencing the Fuller Life

Pamela and I have just finished our third week at Harvest Community School. We found this week quite hectic because the elementary class teacher enjoyed a week of vacation. That meant the headmaster and I took turns teaching. While I did not engage much with Pamela one-on-one, she still experienced a fuller life. She fascinates children because of her savant skill in calendars, her artistic abilities, her princess lunchbox, and her boldness in telling a teacher—me—, "Director! Director! Cut!" and "You're fired." When I am not working with her, she keeps herself busy, building puzzles and triazzles, swinging on the porch swing, playing with her calculator, and using a laptop. She has far more opportunities to interact with people in an environment similar to the kind of learning environment she has enjoyed for over a decade. Thursday, she helped the elementary class build a water filter for the school pond!







I have thoroughly enjoyed applying Relationship Development Intervention ideas as we help our auties (two full-time students in the spectrum and another part-time in addition to Pamela) adapt to this new way of learning. I glean so much from them in one-on-one moments when they take a break from the classroom. Thursday, I taught one boy who has a mechanical mind and nibble fingers to sew a needle case. On Friday, he hardly needed help in sewing a running stitch in the first line on his tic-tac-toe game. The other boy and I have been sharing many perspective-taking conversations to help him see that what he thinks is not always what another person thinks. Their parents are delighted to have a school where students are doing more than the three R's—where they are engaged with the kind of hands-on, meaningful tasks that Temple Grandin recommends for students in the spectrum: drawing, handwork (right now, sewing), cleaning the pond and surrounding area, building a water filter, etc.

Friday the 13th was delightful! While chatting with a parent dropping off her child, we spotted two hummingbirds seeking nectar from a can of bug spray with a bright orange cap. (Note to self, we need a hummingbird feeder!)



Friday is The Feast, a day in which homeschoolers join us for the whole day if they choose to do so. Pamela joins the elementary class in reading two science books that they only read once a week. She is familiar with one book (Project UltraSwan) but has never read the other book (The Wright Brothers). In this photo taken last week, you can see by the expression on Pamela's face how much she enjoys the class.

Yesterday, after the morning meeting (prayer, pledge, hymn, and Spanish), the elementary students headed to the reading room. Angie walked in and saw Pamela—all smiles—sitting in the teacher's chair. Having observed Pamela and I co-read books, Angie suspected that Pamela wanted to see the text. So, she sat in the chair next to Pamela. Angie was thrilled to see how Pamela felt like she belonged. First, every time, Pamela was asked if she wanted to narrate, Pamela said, "Yes," and then narrated. Sometimes, when other students were narrating, Pamela shifted her attention to the speaker! She smiled and stayed engaged the whole time (about a half hour). Finally, when Angie started reading the unfamiliar book, Pamela leaned in to see the book. Angie and I were so excited for Pamela to take so much delight in learning, side by side, with her academic peers!

Then, the whole school headed out for our weekly nature walk at Santee National Wildlife Refuge. After a little chaos the first week, we learned to assign a group of children to one or two adults and teens. We space out the departure of the groups, some walking the loop trail in one direction and some in the other direction. Last week, one of the school co-founders, who wrote a lovely blog post about nature walks the other day, showed her group how to "fish" for "chicken chokers" (tiger beetle larvae). This week, the children from her group, all assigned to different groups, showed their friends how to lure them out of their holes! None of the adults made this happen: the students figured it out all on their own!

We returned to the school for lunch, and the afternoon was so hectic that I neglected Pamela. The homeschoolers joined us at this point for readings about Egypt (Seeker of Knowledge, Voices of Egypt, and Tutankhamun), a van Gogh picture study, wool felt sewing, living science (projects about flight), and Shakespeare. In time, I hope to fold Pamela in once we figure out our rhythm and everything flows well.

A couple of lovely moments happened yesterday afternoon.

I watched one of our auties marvel over van Gogh's Village Street and Steps in Auvers. He kept staring at it, running his fingers over the brushstrokes, narrating the vivid colors and objects in the painting. The eyes of this boy, who has the same kind of word retrieval issues as Pamela, sparkled with delight as he gazed at the masterpiece.

Before I began reading aloud to the elementary class, one of the students recalled a discussion we had had about how to remember what they read more clearly. He said, "Remember we need to narrate from the beginning of the passage to the end, and not just jump around." In the past three weeks, we have seen greater mindfulness and improved attention.

Shakespeare's Henry V was a blast. Since Act I, Scene I, has only two actors, I broke up the reading into five pages, two students per page. I gave more experienced readers the role of the Archbishop of Canterbury. To help the viewers tell them apart, I made a tall archbishop hat with double horizontal bars on the cross while the bishop wore a shorter hat and a single bar on the cross.

I gave the younger students important actions to perform: posting signs to set up the scene and representing "the church" (by holding a picture of a church), "the angel" (whipping the Adam out of Henry V), "the king" (Henry V) and "the dauphin" (future king of France). Their "acting" was perfect, even though they had not rehearsed. I gave a purse of pennies to "the church" and, when I asked "the king" to try to take it, "the church" tried to take it back from "the king" and said, "It's mine!" That is exactly what the archbishop and bishop were discussing. I gave the "Gordian knot" to the autie with nibble fingers and, while the clergy discussed the studious nature of Henry V, "the king" worked hard to undo the knot. "The angel" giggled at whipping "the king." Our youngest student wore the crown of the dauphin and his lip quivered when "the king" snatched his crown (and I had warned him that is what "the king" was supposed to do).



The past three weeks brings to mind this quote from Charlotte Mason. You can read some thoughtful ideas about one mom's take on this passage here.

Every new power, whether mechanical or spiritual, requires adjustment before it can be used to the full... to perceive that there is much which we ought to do and not to know exactly what it is, nor how to do it, does not add to the pleasure of life or to ease in living. We become worried, restless, anxious; and in the transition stage between the development of this new power and the adjustment which comes with time and experience, the fuller life, which is certainly ours, fails to make us either happier or more useful.

Gleaning Habits from Picture Study

People confuse classical education with Charlotte Mason's method for our materials are similar. What we do with books and things is quite different. The first four years of a classical education is the pouring in and spitting out of specific facts (the Grammar Stage). Connecting ideas is not expected until the next stage. Students in a Mason paradigm form relations early and remember what stirs the mind. Since I plan to blog art, I searched briefly for how a classical folks teach art, and most sites link to "Charlotte Mason style" lessons. Curious.

Mason educators aim for good habits. Mason wrote,

No intellectual habit is so valuable as that of attention; it is a mere habit but it is also the hall-mark of an educated person.... The habits of fitting and ready expression, of obedience, of good-will, and of an impersonal outlook are spontaneous bye-products of education in this sort. So, too, are the habits of right thinking and right judging; while physical habits of neatness and order attend upon the self-respect which follows an education which respects the personality of children.

The following video depicts order which Pamela learned from watching me. As discussed in my last post, she has taken order to a new level. For years, she saw me transition us from one task to another. When she seemed ready to take on these duties, I let her. Pamela is a bit slow in how she puts away a highlighter, retrieves the pencil, checks for lead, adds more lead to the pencil, grabs the highlighter, highlights the schedule to mark off a task, puts the highlighter back, grabs her language arts composition book, and turns to the right page. People with autism process more slowly. Some struggle with the level of executive function Pamela shows here.



The habit of order eases one's life. Mason wrote, "Consider how laborious life would be were its wheels not greased by habits of cleanliness, neatness, order, courtesy; had we to make the effort of decision about every detail of dressing and eating, coming and going, life would not be worth living." Where static thinking helps us most is in the execution of routine tasks. It frees up our working memory for higher-level thinking.

What is higher-level thinking? Dynamic thinking—which people in the spectrum find challenging. While picture study seems so simple—and it is—chances arise to think dynamically. My last picture study post recapped how we practice theory of mind, "fitting and ready expression," and attention, retrieve memory, and make historical connections. Picture study is how I scaffold Pamela in writing paragraphs, too.

Pamela knows what is expected of her. I have slightly altered how we do picture study to work on dynamic thinking. She picked one of the twenty-four Winslow Homer picture cards and studied carefully. She does the work of imprinting details from the picture into her memory and of describing it so clearly from her memory that I can pick it out of the stack. This is the "act of knowing" for a picture study. In the following video, you can see how fluently she narrates the picture which I have hidden from view. Although she has left gaps in her description, I do not interrupt her.

After she finished, I reflect upon her narration and ask her meaningful questions that help me construct an image in my mind. Rather than ask direct questions, I paraphrase her words. I tell her what I don't know. She spoke of something blue outside, and I told her I didn't know what was blue. Making a declarative statement about gaps in my understanding gives her a chance to listen more carefully and think. I do ask open-ended questions.

You can see how she enjoys our exchange of information. As you watch her listen, think, and respond, you can see how quickly she processes now. The pace of our conversation is much faster! Pamela illustrates what Mason said about listening with full attention, "We can all imagine how our work would be eased if our subordinates listened to instructions with the full attention which implies recollection."



Now, we come to the moment of truth! Can Pamela's efforts guide me to the correct picture? This process illustrates how differently we do things. When a teacher creates a worksheet, the teacher robs the opportunity to think from students. Some teachers explained to me not long ago that open-ended questions create anxiety in students of today. They are afraid of saying the wrong thing. They don't know what details teachers want. They fear low grades. While they are adept at static thinking (direct questions with only one right answer), they have difficulty with dynamic thinking. When we do picture study, Pamela does most of the work for she has to know how much information is good enough. I am more of a guide in our journey to a shared understanding.

In the next video, I go through each card and explain my decision to accept or reject it. You can see Pamela's anticipation until I find the right one. Then, interest wanes because the element of surprise is gone. I persist through the entire stack since two or more pictures might fit her description. In this case, I narrowed it down to two: Snap the Whip and School Time.



Below are the two pictures. They have so much in common that they almost look the same.



I use this opportunity to explain why I choose the top picture. Upon further reflection, I think I could have spotlighted "same but different" thinking instead. Then, I would have given Pamela another chance to think dynamically. Next time we have a close call, I will do that! I also spotlighted errors to help her refine her observation before doing a written narration. I asked her what season she thought it was to give her a chance to infer. At around minute 1:20, Pamela shifts her gaze and studies her schedule. I kept talking to see if she would turn to me on her own. She did not, so I cleared my throat. She inferred that I had noticed her lack of attention. (Note to self: slow down and talk less!)



When I ask Pamela to write the title of the painting, I see an opportunity to work on gray thinking. Winslow Homer named it Snap the Whip, and yet no whips are in sight. I am thrilled when Pamela immediately realizes the boys were the whip! To encourage her to lengthen her descriptions, I first ask her how many sentences she can write. After she said, "Six," I apply "Edge Plus One" (an RDI term) and suggest seven. Pamela balks vociferously, so I back off and leave the matter unresolved.



Pamela has written three narrations for picture study so far: Girl with Laurel, Fog Warning, and, of course, Snap the Whip. While she writes, I say absolutely nothing. I don't even peek over her shoulder. I try to find something else to do. She has to do the work.



Originally, Snap the Whip had six sentences. I scaffold her into writing a seventh by suggesting she had forgotten to mention the season. She comes up with "It's fall" and I prompt "because" to encourage her to write a longer sentence. And, she does!

Delight in the Lord

Last October, I recapped my efforts at helping children find awe and wonder in the Bible in our church's afterschool program. Our goal was to read the Book of Daniel together. We will start chapter nine next week and are on track to finish the entire book by the end of the school. Over the past couple of months, our group has grown from last year's nine students to this year's twelve, sometimes fourteen. New pupils have folded into the group seamlessly, which amazes me since a Charlotte Mason style of learning is so different. I continue to follow the method described in this post on Bible study.

Very rarely do we have an "off" day. These children are high-energy, and some have labels which means nothing to me because they are all persons first! We do everything we can to let them burn off steam through free play and snack time before lessons begin. Our rhythm of song time and prayers usually settles them down for the Bible lesson. Last week, two new pupils came and the rest, even those who have been coming for years, had a bad case of spring fever. A couple of students were talking, a few looked half asleep, and the others struggled to focus on the text. Instead of slogging through the reading and encouraging more inattentiveness, I cut it short and we shifted to the craft.

I brooded and pondered about what I should do. While I assumed it was a one-time incident, I did not want to let one "off" day lead to more "off" days and eventually the habit of inattention. I also wanted to avoid relying on lectures, artificial rewards, or token systems to encourage better behavior. As pointed out in the New York Times article "Train a Parent, Spare a Child", "offering short-term incentives to elicit behavior is unreliable, ineffective and causes 'considerable long-term damage.'" Why? Once the reward is removed, the desired behavior disappears. I agree with Charlotte Mason's belief that such measures turn children into pawns in a game. She wrote, "Our crying need today is less for a better method of education than for an adequate conception of children,––children, merely as human beings, whether brilliant or dull, precocious or backward" (Page 80).

Not only did she avoid direct manipulation of behavior, Mason had concerns about indirect ways of trampling upon the dignity of a child. Clearly, we all agree upon the dangers of influencing children through fear. What about love and approval from a teacher? Surely, a positive emotion cannot be harmful? The admiration of a teacher often leads to lessons learned, proper behavior, good will, and the development of virtues. But, what happens when the teacher is no longer in the life of the student? Because these positive reactions depend upon an outside influence, ground gained may be lost. What determines lifelong character is ideas that live inside children and inspire them. If nothing has been done to sow ideas that make acts worthwhile, then we undermine their ability to act independently.

The article on parent training offers lame advice: make sure children understand why what you're asking them to do is important, show interest in their point of view, and admit that it is really not but give them a reason why they should do it anyway. Oh, yeah, if you can reward them after the fact, sparingly, preferably something that the child picks (money, treats, or quality time). Blah, blah, blah!

Mason discounted suggestion, persistent influence, emulation, etc. What is left? Letting children fall into slipshod habits may be the greater of two evils. The answer lies within the student. "The work of education is greatly simplified when we realize that children, apparently all children, want to know all human knowledge; they have an appetite for what is put before them, and, knowing this, our teaching becomes buoyant with the courage of our convictions" (Pages 89-90).

I began to realize that spreading a feast of awe and wonder every week had sharpened their appetite for knowledge of Daniel. They desired to know; they had proved to me their habit of attention. However, they needed to take responsibility for managing it.

Then, I began to think about the reason why I study the Bible and how the brain stores memory. Those two big ideas lead to my plan, which worked like a charm!

Before the Bible lesson, I explained to them that Daniel had lived six hundred years before Jesus was born as a man. Since Jesus was born two thousand years ago, the book of Daniel was written about twenty-six hundred years ago. Their eyes grew wide. I added, "That means God kept the book of Daniel safe for hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of years—just so we could read it." I asked them, "Why do you think God protected this book all of these years?"—which lead to a wonderful conversation. Some of the kids enjoy writing notes on the dry-erase board after we do our craft. I just love this reflection:



Once they realized how precious this book was, I explained to them how memory works. When I asked if anyone had ever made paper chains for Christmas trees, hands flew up. I explained that the mind links together memories just like we make paper chains. "The reason why we talk about what we learned last week is so that our brain know where to put the next link. Every time we read the next part of Daniel, our chain of memory grows longer." We talked about what happens if we miss a week or if we are not paying attention. Our chain will have a broken link. Eying the strips of paper lying on the table, one of the boys asked, "Mrs. Tammy, can we make some chains about Daniel?" Before the reading, the kids drew what they remembered about the sheep and the goat. After the reading, all but two drew more links for their chain. One added links for the previous dreams. Another asked if we could do this every week.

I love how Leslie Laurio paraphrased Mason's conclusion to this chapter.

Knowledge for its own sake is pleasing because it's so fulfilling. When you see evidence that a student in your class shares your delight in knowing, and shares your pleasure in expressing what he knows, and shares your affinity for some wise philosopher or brave hero, you both connect and share a kind of bond. A student who has that kind of satisfaction from learning is less likely to have a compulsive need to be better than everyone else.

When Life Hands You Lemons, Make Lemon Batteries!

Right now, I am trying to develop the habit of writing for the Charlotte Mason Blog Carnival, led by mi amiga Amy Tuttle who is a missionary mom in Peru. My first submission for the year focused on topic of awe, an important ingredient in developing a love of learning in our children and ourselves. A quote from the chapter on personhood in Mason's last book inspired that post to the February 5 carnival. In this round, we consider the tension between authority and docility.

The overemphasis of compliance in teaching autistic children spotlights the challenge of putting authority and docility in its proper place. This post should resonate with any person raising or teaching children because an exuberant effort to teach the habit of obedience diminishes the habit of thinking. Mi amiga Di Maitland, a mindful mom who lives in South Africa, recently blogged an enlightening test of how well a child consciously reflects during the day. This clip from a webinar by Dr. Stephen Gutstein defines operating on a conscious level as stopping to analyze a situation when something unexpected happens. What are the parts and how do they fit together into a whole? What is the same and what is different? How does the situation relate, or not relate, to other situations?

For two days, Di decided to hang out and observe her son. She deliberately avoided making any demands upon her preverbal autistic teen. She watched him carefully to see if he was operating on a conscious level. She found that most of the time he followed through his typical routines and rituals with very little variation. Another mindful professional, Dr. James MacDonald , author of Communicating Partners, calls this a "lazy mode of operating" as mi amiga Penny in Tennessee blogged. MacDonald observed,

Out of rational fear, many of us tell the child (usually non-verbally) I WILL TAKE CARE OF YOU NO MATTER WHAT. And it can be just that unnecessary "taking care" that keeps the child in a learned helplessness, or as I prefer, a LAZY mode of operating.

Think of your job now as catching yourself when you are about to do for your child when he needs to do for himself...

So, how does conscious reflecting look? A few weeks ago Steve was getting ready to leave Kansas and come to Carolina for a visit. That morning I slept in because I was able to make it through the night without waking from a coughing fit. Kansas got socked with snowy weather, so Steve skyped the following message to me: "There is a blizzard out there this morning." After I woke up and before I got on the computer, Pamela said to me, "Dad's not coming. There's too much snow."

This is operating on a conscious level for several reasons: (1) Pamela inferred something and did not simple repeat exactly what Steve wrote, (2) she knew I had not seen his message yet, and (3) she decided to tell me because she knew I did not know.

Awareness is the beginning of consciously reflecting. Acting as a result of that awareness is another.

What do authority and docility have to do with consciously reflecting? Because of behaviorism and enlightenment thinking, we in authority have overstepped our bounds by telling children what to do and what to think far more often than we ought. Even though docility is willingness to be taught, we see unthinking obedience as the hallmark of docility. Mason put the habit of obedience and the habit of thinking in their proper spheres through an indirect method. She recommended governing children ("Do as you're bid") without them being aware of their governance ("Go as you please"). But, how does this look in real life?

It is easier than you think as pointed out by a recent blog post at Guiding Families in Hawaii! Spotlight the problem, not the solution! Every time we point out the solution, we steal an opportunity for our children to think. I can understand barking out commands when you are running late, inconveniencing innocent bystanders, or preventing extreme injury, pain, etc. But, whenever possible, I try to point out the problem, not the solution.

Today, Pamela and I were working on math problems at the car dealership. We sat at a table with Pamela on my right. When we transitioned to knitting, I needed to move to her right. I could have told her to stand up and switch chairs with me. Instead, I walked around the table and moved to her right. Without thinking, she scooted her chair to the left and made space for me. Had she thought for a moment, she would have stood up and sat in the chair to her left. I told her, "But, I want to sit down!" Then, she scooted her chair and the one on the left even further left. I added, "I have no chair!" After a few rounds of this, she finally realized that she could move over to the chair on her left.

I even try to spotlight the problem and not the solution in my role as her teacher. To provide background knowledge for the book about Michael Faraday, we explored batteries and built our own lemon battery. First, we tested various size batteries with a volt meter. Then, we made a lemon battery. We tried this the other day but blew a fuse on the volt meter, so Pamela was already familiar with the difference between positive and negative terminals. She recorded what she learned in her science notebook.

As her teacher, I did not tell her exactly what to do. Pamela remembered enough from the last time to set up the circuit with the volt meter independently. However, she made many mistakes and I did not prevent her from doing so. Each time I pointed out the problem. Because she is used to operating on a conscious level, she came up with the solution.

When Pamela tested the AA battery, she reversed the probes. It was the first time she had made this mistake. I spotlighted the problem: a negative reading, which did not seem to concern her. Then I pointed to the red probe and told her that it was supposed to be positive. Immediately, she said, "Turn it around." However, she turned it around twice and got another negative reading. As soon as I pointed out the problem, she turned around her a battery correctly and got a positive reading.



With the triple A battery, she saw her mistake immediately and corrected it without any spotlighting.




In this clip, Pamela gave the lemon two negative terminals. Even though I knew she was making a mistake, I did not stop her. I wanted her to think about what having two terminals might mean. I was even willing to let her test the double negative lemon. She realized right away that it would not work and pulled out the galvanized nail before we tested the lemon for the first time.



In this clip, Pamela reversed the probes of the volt meter. I now realize I should have used alligator clips because she had a hard time keeping them steady. However, you can see that, although the voltage flitted between -0.01 to -0.08, she had no problem reading it as -0.07—a sign of her level of comfort with uncertainty. She realized that she had reversed the probes and corrected it as soon as I reported a negative number.



In this clip, we intentionally tested a lemon without terminals. She was not at all surprised that the volt meter detected no current.

A Rare Review

I hardly ever review a product. A Charlotte Mason paradigm eliminates the need for tons of formal curricula. We cut out the middleman by focusing on living books (not abridged versions or snippets in a literature anthology); on whole, specific composition by a composer (not the best of); on grade-level poems of four persons a year (not a mish-mash of mediocre works to fit a theme or literature selection). People probably get tired of my oddball responses to questions about a Bible study curriculum for children: we read the Bible, study maps, historical artifacts, etc. and talk about what we learned. When asked about language arts programs, I give an outline of Mason's building blocks for language acquisition. Not exactly what most people want to hear. Since prepackaged curriculum are off my radar, reviews are rare on this blog.

Steve knows me well and bought two perfect gifts for me this year: a Nook tablet and Wii Fit Training Plus. Pamela and I have been using the fitness games for almost four months now: she is on her 109th day, and I'm on my 113th. At first, I required her to do 30 minutes of every homeschool day, reminding her. She enjoys the program so much she faithfully exercises every morning for at least a half hour of her own free will. She even exercises on weekends. I have not paid any attention to her workout charts until deciding to do this review. She has exercised every single day for the past 24 days (as far as the activity log goes). She has averaged 37 minutes a day, burning about 113 calories per day. Her MET (metabolic equivalent) is 3 because she is burning 93 calories per half hour. That means her intensity level qualifies as moderate-intensity exercise.

Pamela has been averaging 256 minutes a week of moderate-intensity exercise, all of her own free will. Here is a chart of her recent workout:

Comparing her activity to a chart of Sports and Leisure, Pamela is doing the equivalent of playing casual volleyball:

To put it into perspective, without any parental nagging, Pamela far exceeds the CDC guidelines for people her age (150 minutes a week). Every day, she works all major muscle groups because she selects non-game exercises (yoga and strength training).

I call that a win!

Other benefits include a change in Pamela's choice of beverages. She has taken Wii Fit's advice seriously, and now, when we hit McDonald's drive-thru for my McCoffee fix, she orders bottled water instead of soda. She has picked a bunch of new health-related vocabulary words like deep breathing, warm-up, yoga, strength training, obstacle course, aerobic training, boxing, Kung Fu, balance, advanced, etc. Not only did it develop a new interest (fireworks), Pamela has conversations with me about exercise: "You skipped boxing today," "I skipped the obstacle course today," "I got a little further," "Yippee! My personal best!" "Two humans did Perfect 10"—and Pamela is a supercalculator in that game.

I have benefited from the program as well. Every week, I aim for four to five one-hour workouts that burn at least 310 calories per session (my MET of 155 per half hour is equivalent to dancing with a partner). My muscle control, balance, and strength has improved greatly: my Wii Fit age scores are consistently below my chronological age, which wasn't the case during my first month. A typical session for me begins with twenty-five minutes of either yoga or strength training, followed by twenty minutes of aerobics and fifteen minutes of play. Moreover, the center of balance (COB) assessment helped me solve the problem of aching heels when I'm on my feet a lot. Feedback from Wii Fit trained me to move my COB forward and my heels rarely bother me now.

Conveniences include:

• I can workout at any time, regardless of weather or daylight changes. Pamela prefers early in the morning (7 a.m.) while I prefer evenings (9:00 p.m.—weird, but it works for me). We can work out according to our unique body clock.
• I don't have to waste gas money (21 miles to the nearest YMCA or 1 mile to our town's only fitness center).
• I can exercise on my schedule not the limited hours of the local fitness center: M-F 5:30 a.m. to 8:30 p.m., S 8:00 a.m. to 12 noon, closed Sunday.
• I am not bored out of my mind: I do not enjoy exercise of any form, except for swimming. I find the games entertaining. Being smacked in the head by imaginary sneakers or having a clay pot crash on my head are more amusing than some pretty, perky person encouraging me to feel the burn.
• I don't have to pay monthly fees or skip workouts when we are visiting Steve in Kansas. Our exercise equipment is quite portable.

Does Wii Fit help people who are already in good physical condition? It depends. Steve is in great shape: he runs and bicycles regularly in a hilly Kansas city along the banks of the Missouri River. In his youth, he lived at the tennis court (in fact, his father still plays tennis—he's in his eighties!). Steve can run a 10K without any special training. A couple of years ago, he even ran a few marathons and many half-marathons.

Unfortunately, he neglected core muscle groups not used in running and rarely stretched or worked on flexibility. On the day before Thanksgiving of 2011, he pulled a muscle in his back. Pain shot up his back, and his spasms were so severe he made an appointment with a chiropractor that day. Steve had never seen a chiropractor in his life. While manipulating Steve's back, the man exclaimed regularly, "Dude, you are so stiff!" And, he was right!

Steve spent about six weeks in treatment. The chiropractor recommended Steve spend more time cross-training to work his core muscles, so he and some buddies made a pact to take Zumba classes ("whatever happens in Zumba stays in Zumba"). He found the classes helpful but inconvenient, so the Wii Fit has filled that void. When he first tried the Hula Hoop game back in April, he failed within a few seconds. Now, he can last for five minutes in each direction for a total of ten minutes. His back feels great, and we are both relieved that he found natural treatments to address his injury, avoiding addictive pain medication and surgery.

Curing the Habit of Frustration

Sometimes, Pamela enjoys filling out the children’s bulletin during church. At other times, she makes lists of things that interest her: calendars, movies, history, etc. Today after the service, a friend commented on her “perfect” handwriting. Little did he know that, when she was six years old, Pamela seemed destined for dysgraphia. She cried when we gave a pencil and paper. She had no handedness, couldn’t cross the midline of her body, and could do little more than scribble.

In our well-intended efforts to catch her up to her peers, her teachers and I created a bad habit, the habit of frustration. Because Pamela lacked language, she couldn’t tell us that the bar we set was completely out of reach, unfair, and inappropriate. The only thing she could do was throw herself on the ground and have a fit. I learned through the school of hard knocks how to cure Pamela of this habit, and Charlotte Mason’s ideas outlined in her second book dovetail very well with what we did.

“Let us remember that this bad habit has made its record in the brain”—Pamela’s habit of frustration in writing was so strong that piercing screams began the moment she saw pencil and paper. It was an automatic reflex like Pavlov’s dog salivating at the sound of a bell.

“There is only one way of obliterating such record; the absolute cessation of the habit for a considerable space of time, say some six or eight weeks.”—We timed our first day of homeschooling around a move during the summer. Because we were too busy dejunking, packing, driving, visiting family, and unpacking, Pamela had about six weeks of freedom from worksheets.

“During this interval new growth, new cell connections, are somehow or other taking place, and the physical seat of the evil is undergoing a natural healing.”—While she still tantrumed about other things (changes in routine, elevators, uncertainty, eating the wrong food, etc.), Pamela had stopped fretting over pencil and paper because we no longer forced her to do the impossible. That particular trigger was starting to lose its power on her.

“But the only way to secure this pause is to introduce some new habit as attractive to the child as is the wrong habit you set yourself to cure.”—Some knowledgeable friends convinced me that the best way forward is to step backward. Clearly, Pamela wasn’t ready to write. She needed to develop pre-writing skills first: hand preference, bilateral coordination, crossing the midline, finger strength, and control. Instead of focusing on pencil and paper, we did many physical activities to work on her weaknesses, which I blogged awhile ago. The only paper task I gave her was something within reach: scribbling with crayon stubs.

“As the bad habit usually arises from the defect of some quality in the child it should not be difficult for the parent who knows his child’s character to introduce the contrary good habit.”—The issue in Pamela’s character was inability to trust adults. Who could blame her? We were clueless about autism, and so were most of the professionals we knew. Through the school of hard knocks, I learned to work where she was developmentally, not where the world thought she should be. That alone cured the habit of frustration! In time, I began to know when to encourage and when to back off by reading her body language and reading everything I could about autism.

“Take a moment of happy confidence between parent and child; introduce, by tale or example, the stimulating idea; get the child’s will with you.”—I was absolutely clueless about how to guide the thoughtlife of an autistic child because she couldn’t express what she was thinking. Fortunately, the year-long sabbatical was long enough that Pamela had stopped despising pencil and paper. I did many things to scaffold her physically in learning to write capital letters, which I blogged awhile ago. Even though, I hadn’t tapped into her imagination, we developed a happy confidence between us. She learned to trust me, and I learned to trust that she was doing her best when I stayed in her zone of proximal development (a tad beyond where she is).

“Do not tell him to do the new thing, but quietly and cheerfully see that he does it on all possible occasions, for weeks if need be, all the time stimulating the new idea, until it takes great hold of the child’s imagination.”—While I still didn’t understand the power of imagination, Steve Burns (of the television show Blues Clues) rescued me. Pamela fell in love with his show and, before long, she was filling pages and pages with clues. Honestly, I couldn’t have thought of a better way to drill her into better handwriting. Drawing clues fired her imagination, and, to her, she was playing, not improving her fine motor skills.

“Watch most carefully against any recurrence of the bad habit.”—We have nearly overcome the habit of frustration. Occasionally, Pamela throws a mild, half-hearted fuss when she doesn’t get her way. The falling-on-the-floor, kicking-and-screaming are a thing of the past. Curing this bad habit took years and years of removing triggers one by one, working with Pamela where she was, helping her learn to express herself, and respecting her as a person.

“Should the old fault recur, do not condone it. Let the punishment, chiefly the sense of your estrangement, be acutely felt.”—This step is quite tricky when guiding a person with autism. Six years ago, this advice would have utterly failed. Relationship Development Intervention helped us guide Pamela in her flexible thinking and ability to form relationships with people. She still has long way to go, but she can now read my body language and facial expression. She can process when I am upset and when I am distancing myself from her because she has crossed a line.

Even better, Pamela knows how to do things that make me laugh! Yesterday, she walked into the television room and announced, “It’s Saint Patrick’s Day. I’m drinking beer.” She had a glass of root beer.

Later in the day, I was rehearsing for something I have to sing on Monday. I usually record it on my computer, so I can polish up the rough spots. Pamela wanted to get my attention, and she did as you can see in the pictures below.

Pamela Makes Faces to Get My Attention


She Has My Full Attention


She Starts Cracking Up Too


Pamela Sits on the Couch and Laughs

Training Habits without Losing Your Mind!

If you are expecting charts, stickers, timeouts, schedules, programs, organizational tips-- (which seem to work best for the organized)--please find another blog. You will not see any of that here!

Back in February, a friend started a local Charlotte Mason study group. This is the first time I have ever gotten to read her books and swap stories with skin friends. Last week we covered habit training, which we can easily look like dog training with velvet gloves if we get all legalistic. When I applied the ideas our group shared to guide kids in our church's after-school program in relational ways, class went more smoothly. Another friend who teaches a college class on disabilities set up a video call with me, so her students could talk to a family living what they are learning. They asked my opinion of behaviorism and received the flip side of raising autistic children: through relationships, not rules! Last week, our church Bible study focused on living Christ's principles (by staying connected to Him Colossians 2:19-23) and to avoid becoming enslaved by worldly principles ("Do not handle! Do not taste! Do not touch!"). Then, a cyber friend asked about helping her teenager keep a cleaner room in a Mason way. God tossed all of these circumstance into my life in the past two days, so I got the hint and decided to blog it!

Relationship Development Intervention (RDI) (our favorite autism therapy) and Charlotte Mason (our favorite method of education) have similar ways of guiding children in their thinking. When our thoughts change, changed behavior will follow. Both begin with parents: the way we think affects the way we parent. We need to start with the head and heart for change to occur: the head and heart of the family changing first, which then flows into the head and heart of the child. Mason recommended parents cultivating three habits when training their children: tact, watchfulness, and persistence. These three habits dovetail very nicely with RDI.

Tact - Tact means saying, "Dave, can you come here for a minute?" instead of "DAVID JOSEPH GLASER!!" Tone of voice alone can mean the difference between a strong-willed child showing up with an open hand or closed fists. It means using a hopeful and expectant look rather than a frown and glaring eyes. It is giving a few brief words and having a conversation, not a dreary monologue, to help your child understand why a habit is important to you and will benefit them. Half the battle is won when you and your child agree about why a habit is needed. Tact means knowing your child well enough to find the right idea to inspire him to reform his ways.

Watchfulness - Watchfulness means observing your child and figuring out the best way to approach a new habit based on her nature. It means being aware of triggers for poor behavior and preventing them. It means knowing what contrary habit might work best in helping her succeed. Watchfulness means setting up a situation (timing, environment, control, brainstorming) conducive to forming the habit and keeping it in the long term. It means altering the plan if the outcome isn't quite what you envisioned. Watchfulness means never allowing friction creating an ever-widening gulf within your family.

Persistence - Persistence means being vigilant until the habit sticks and not relaxing, undoing weeks of effort. It means staying hopeful, not cranky, when progress is slow. It means realizing that building one habit at a time in the marathon of childhood gets you farther than short bursts of programs that rob you of your energy and joy. Persistence means knowing that habits are not going to change overnight and require patience and consistency. Persistence does not mean helicopter parenting.

Before describing habit training, keep in mind these points:

• Habit training is hard and requires vigilance. Focus on one habit at a time or you may lose your mind.
• Try indirect cues. Commands rob children of the chance to think for themselves. Use hopeful and expectant looks. Speak with a calm and friendly voice. Simply stating their name may be enough to check their behavior.
• Avoid a "running fire of Do and Don't" (page 134). Consistent habit training will prevent that in the long run.
• Allow natural consequences to dictate the reward: washing the dishes means Mom has time to bake brownies, controlling a nasty temper lets the whole family enjoy life, paying attention during lessons leaves more time for play!
• Let divine grace rule your interactions. "But the little fellow has really not much power to recollect, and the mother will have to adopt various little devices to remind him... she never lets the matter be a cause of friction between herself and the child, taking the line of his friendly ally to help him against that bad memory of his" (page 123).

If you are habit training all the live-long day, something needs to change. Mason's analogy provides a sense of proportion once you have gotten into the habit of habit training:

Let me say that the education of habit is successful in so far as it enables the mother to let her children alone, not teasing them with perpetual commands and directions... but letting them go their own way and grow, having first secured that they will go the right way, and grow to fruitful purpose. The gardener, it is true, 'digs about and dungs,' prunes and trains, his peach tree; but that occupies a small fraction of the tree's life: all the rest of the time the sweet airs and sunshine, the rains and dews, play about it and breathe upon it, get into its substance, and the result is––peaches. But let the gardener neglect his part, and the peaches will be no better than sloes (page 134).

So, how does it look in action? Mason provides several examples, the first of a little girl who wastes time lacing her boots (pages 120-121). Instead of going for the surface issue (lacing), she zeroes on the real problem: daydreaming. (In fact, if you have a dawdler on your hands, I suggest you read Inconstant Kitty while you're at it.) Mom gives her daughter a few words about how much more time she'll have to play if she can dress for outdoors in five minutes. She watches her without a word, with expectant, warm looks, and only a slight touch if the girl lapses into a reverie. The mother makes a point to join her for all those instances where the girl dawdles. As the child becomes reliable after a few weeks, mother fades out of the picture.

The next example is about shutting the door of a room (pages 122-123). Mother gives her son the request and explains why—for the comfort of others (living in a drafty, old house, I spent the winter training Pamela on this habit). She promises to remind him if he forgets, and she does with a pleasant voice for she knows crying out in exasperation will only encourage him to increase the distance between himself and the open door. She reminds him indirectly because he needs to think for himself: she glances at the door and says, "I said I should try to remind you." Each time, she varies her gentle cues to transfer responsibility for remembering to him.

How would I work on a messy room? First, I would plant the idea of why her room should be cleaner and then I would think of a contrary habit to replace the messy one. There are plenty of good reasons to clean a room: fire hazard, tripping over stuff, not being able to find stuff, relatives coming for a visit, etc. Whatever your reasoning, it needs to be brief and presented in a way that the teenager gets. Avoid the temptation to kill interest with a monologue. On the contrary habit, you might try brainstorming possibilities that have a relational twist to it that makes you an ally. Pick just one habit and work on that. When that becomes automatic, pick another habit. Here are some ideas:

• Every day, set the timer for ten minutes and the two of you clean up together. Have you ever seen the ten-second tidy on Big Comfy Couch? It can be silly, fun, fast, whatever. Turn on some upbeat music. Laugh at the disgusting things you find. Let the teenager pick the time of day: it needs to happen once a day before the deadline you set. Some kids are happier having some control.
• Let the teenager pick the tasks hated least. Let the kid who hates dusting vacuum the messy room and perhaps others while you dust. In real life, people bargain.
• Before watching TV, pour the stuff from one drawer into a clothes basket. Take it to the TV room and have a trash can nearby. In two weeks of watching television, the drawers will probably show improvement. Buy any organizer things and start consolidating the scattered stuff.
• Brainstorm something completely different than what I have here. With some kids, having an ally to bounce off ideas is half the battle. Having a say in the matter, bargaining, and feeling like everyone's opinion matters makes a difference. It needs to be a daily habit that is short and palatable. Over time, you'll see progress.

Sometimes, family dynamics make the situation worse. The parent who is frustrated about the mess needs to back off and assess progress in a month. It helps to reframe words that may be truthful but fan the flames. "Your room is complete disaster. WHY did YOU leave it that way?" will cause the strong-willed child to fire right back. Asking why for rhetorical reasons invites conflict. It may require experimentation until the least divisive words are found. Asking "Have you had a chance to do the ten-minute tidy?" with pleasant, relaxed nonverbals may be all that is necessary. If not, asking the parent with the stronger relationship to handle may be a better way.