Autism for me as a teacher

Although this may not seem to make sense from a chronological point of view, a little voice in my inner sanctum is urging me to start here with the more recent experiences as both a teacher and an adult. Perhaps this in turn will help jog my memory of my struggles and experiences from yesteryear, we shall see…

When I first became a teacher back in Australia in late 2016, I don’t think I had any idea how important and relevant my own experiences with autism, learning difficulties and grasping basic things would ever come to be. At the time, it was an important career change, make no mistake, and it was a mixture of excitement and worry, just like any other who takes a leap of faith, be it in their late 20s, late 30s, or even later. Before becoming a teacher, I had worked in hospitality and public relations for about 12 years; I left school at 16, flunked out of college at 17 because I was sick of education (the irony isn’t lost on me!): I just wanted to work and earn my own money. I had had some insight to children with learning difficulties during my years in hospitality, although I was nowhere near as self aware in my late teens and early 20s as I was even 5-10 years later, never mind now! It was only really in becoming a teacher that my self awareness grew; you see, when one is teaching, when one is at the centre of a group of 6-7 adults, 6-7 professional people waiting on your every word, that tends to have a knock-on effect. I personally thrived in that arena, the aspect of public speaking is something that has always come naturally to me (something which isn’t inherently autistic, but more about that later!). Where I myself thrived, others at times withered under the pressure of the public eye - it’s not an easy thing. I can think of many people I know who simply couldn’t do that job, and that’s not to blow my own horn per se, I mean that we are all made in the eyes of the Creator with different skills, abilities and ways that might serve each other in different ways. Anyway, being a teacher and thus being under constant scrutiny from students and bosses alike tends to create a kind of sink-or-swim scenario for any fledgling teachers, often brutal but effective for sieving out the diamonds from the grit, so to speak. I am lucky that I have very good communication skills (which I say with humility) which in turn I get from my mother: she is a qualified psychotherapist for cardiac arrest victims, so clearly something runs in the blood there! It wasn’t until mid-2017 that I truly tested my teaching mettle when I moved to Modena, Italy, to become a teacher at a private school there; it was more like an institute for specialised learning than a regular school. There weren’t any desks, no teacher at the front with a cane, pointing and getting kids to monotonously repeat until the target grammar became imprinted in their little minds. No, it was a school that had mostly adult learners, I would say that the average age was about 30, you could teach anyone from 18 to 65, and this in itself was refreshing as well as challenging. So, for the first year or so, my work mainly consisted of working with adults and teaching them the basics of grammar, pronunciation and other things needed for a basic grasp of any language. However, after the first year, I started to branch out more and work in local places, including schools and institutes (the Italian education system is very complicated compared to the English one, so I mainly worked in ‘institutes’ which were essentially places of learning like a normal school). This is where my work with younger people truly began in earnest: firstly, I started working in a private Catholic institute, mainly working with children between the ages of, let’s say, 10-13; then, I worked in a scientific institute teaching teens aged 16-19 (more about that in another blog). These were both wonderful experiences for me, truly! Why so? Well, I have always had a natural affinity with children in particular simply because I am a big kid inside! I say that with some unreserved, unashamed pride since I believe that we as adults are constantly brainwashed into suppressing and burying our inner children in order to ‘be serious’, ‘grow up’, and ‘focus on the real world’. Yet I can’t help but feel that in neglecting the inner child, we have lost touch with our true nature, our true essence. Besides, I’ve never tried to lose touch with my inner child, and as a result, I’ve always managed to ‘win over’ most children I meet with my daft, jocular and often playful nature. I love kids around the ages of 10-13 because they’re still at a stage where they’re keen to please and impress (most kids, not all) and so it meant that I had a natural segue to maintaining a good, competitive and, most importantly, fun classroom environment for learning. Kids, however, are not all as sweet and rosy as perhaps I’ve suggested so far; they have this innate, instinctive ability to pick up on energies and atmosphere, and will quickly push all the buttons they can to see how far they can stretch the boundaries with adults! Small things like shouting out aloud, playing around, chatting with their mates whilst the teacher is talking, and a whole array of other things I won’t name now. What’s my point? Well, I had to quickly lay my boundaries down - the rules of the classroom, as it were. I’ll admit, I’m quite a disciplinarian with my younger students; this comes from my own strict upbringing which inevitably left its indelible marks upon me as a boy and then later a man. I like order (classic autism trait, sticklers for routine!), I like respect, I like manners, but I’m fair; I also think it’s important for the students to have their own say and speak their own minds. This is something I never really had as a kid from either my teachers or my parents at home; the 90s were different, kids were seen and not heard for the most part - sometimes neither seen or heard and told to go upstairs and ‘play nicely’. Times have changed, of course, all things change in the end, and this is no different. I have tried to approach my teaching with a modern approach even if we’re learning about the past. There’s a mantra I picked up from a video I saw online about the Finnish education system: respect for yourself, respect for others, respect for the classroom. It struck a chord with me and I’ve never forgotten it; in fact, I’ve adopted it as a philosophy of my own. Right, so all of this necessary backstory can finally lead me to talk about my experiences with autistic children!

I’ve taught in Australia, Italy, Poland and the UK, and I would say that I know Italy and its education system the best. Without a doubt, Italy is a long way behind other countries regarding autism, even simply in acknowledging that it exists. If I had a pound for every time I did my prep for a new class only to be told about a problematic student because he/she had ‘some problems at home’, I’d be well off! Certainly, one doesn’t teach to become rich!! I teach for the passion of helping people, be they old or young, ‘normal’ or ‘special’. The most common example I can give of personally recognising children that may or may not have had learning difficulties is this: a typical class would involve me presenting the target material for the lesson, then having the students give me their ideas on what it means, next to outline a clear plan, then finally to put it into practice. Sounds straightforward enough, doesn’t it? It should be for a grown-up mind, but kids work differently, kids think differently… I remember one particular time in which I did exactly as I have just said, I even had the students repeat back to me the clear instructions I’d given, I then put the students to work, and then saw how things would pan out… I remember this one boy in particular, his name is Giuseppe (naturally) and I did my usual of observing the room as the kids started on their work; I tend to look around to see if anyone is struggling, and I saw this young lad sitting there with his eyes darting left to right, trying to look at what his classmates were doing without being caught. What would you have seen here? A naughty little boy that was trying to cheat? Well, I saw myself in that little boy, the same confused, lost soul stuck in a sterile environment where one is taught not to learn but to constantly repeat until it sticks. So, I crouched down next to him, I met him on his level both literally and figuratively, and I asked him if he was ok. A slight shoulder shrug and an awkward half smile. Was this a naughty boy just ‘looking for attention’? My gut instinct told me it wasn’t. You see, I’m also an empath, meaning I can feel people’s energies, both good and bad, whether I like it or not at times… I’m like a sponge for energies. I could feel this little boy’s confusion and anxiety. I asked him again “Are you ok? Do you understand?”, but again I was met with a lack of eye contact and hesitancy. It was like a window into my childhood all over again. Lack of eye contact is a classic trait of broader autism (although I must state here that I’m no expert on this, I only talk from personal experience). So, I went over everything with the boy in detail, partly in English and partly in Italian, so that he could understand what he had to do. In the end, he did one of the best pieces of work that day, and I knew on my way home later that day that I would remember this little boy for the lesson that he had taught me, for the understanding that came to me of that situation. Of course, he would have no idea whatsoever of how I was feeling and maybe never will, but he played his part, nonetheless. I have no doubt this was just a small lesson, an important lesson given to me by God/the Universe/Fate or whatever name most resonates with you, if at all. It was an important moment because it contributed to my burgeoning philosophy towards teaching on the whole, it reminded me of another mantra that I love: ‘when one teaches, two learn’, or something to that effect. It’s an oriental philosophy, although I’m not sure exactly where from. It makes up part of my belief that a teacher should always be and stay humble as anyone can teach you anything, whether they are important CEOs of a big company, or wee Giuseppe in the corner of class 2C. No one ever knows it all, and if they do believe that, they’re heading for a fall, in my view. As I write these words, I am welling up a bit… Why? Because what if another teacher had approached young Giuseppe in a ‘traditional way’? What if he had been deemed to be playing up or attention seeking? How would he have reacted? Would he have gone into a little shell? Would his classmates have poked fun at him for having spoken up whenever he didn’t understand? It’s beyond doubt that this has happened to not only Giuseppe, but many other kids all over the world, for generations. So, to conclude things here, the moment gave me two overriding thoughts in the end: 1. as I said before, anyone can teach you anything, so keep an open mind and a humble heart; 2. there’s more than one way to skin a cat! For those who aren’t familiar with this expression, it means that there’s more than one way to do something, although I am keen to point out that I don’t condone the harm of any animals in the name of idioms and the like!

I sincerely hope that my account here has given you food for thought… it may be that you yourself have had dealings with someone on the spectrum, or you may be of the mindset that we mustn’t mollycoddle (overprotect) kids too much and that they’ve become soft. I used to think that way when I was younger and angrier with the world, unable to look at my own shortcomings and more inclined to see faults in others; regardless, I certainly don’t feel that way now. The way I see it, we as human beings are all unique in our own way, and we all express ourselves in different ways, be that through writing, singing, dancing, making something, or through a plethora of different ways. I truly believe that we the adults of today have a responsibility to at least be more aware of autism in the hope that there can be better understanding of tomorrow’s adults, tomorrow’s workers, bosses, decision makers, carers…tomorrow’s people! Through understanding, we can communicate better; through better communication, we can have more compassion for those who are different to us, and I believe this is our ultimate goal as a global race: to value and cherish variety and difference in one another, not to be all the same like robots without our own forms of expression and communication.

Thank you for having read this blog; this is part 1 of a 5-part series on my experiences with autism. The next few instalments will be about autism for me as both a child and as a brother

, so stay tuned for further updates! Blessings