• Once, a student refused to drink from the water fountain. He took the teacher’s water bottle and Gordon had him put it back. Instead, Gordon gave him a bottle of water and later refilled it at the fountain.
• Another child liked riding in carts. Gordon brought in a bike with training wheels and taught him to ride.
• For a boy who hated PE, Gordon found a buddy who accompanied him to gym class every day. They became fast friends.

Gordon, who works in grades K-5 at a special ed school in River Ridge, La., says the secrets of his success over the years are persistence and caring.

What is autism?

Children with autism have a brain disorder that affects their communication and socialization. They don’t understand the give-and-take of social interactions, like holding conversations. The majority have mental retardation, but people with autism can be highly intelligent. Some have special abilities.

They’re visual learners, responding well to pictures of what’s going to happen next. But they may not be motivated to please you, so don’t take it personally when a student doesn’t “give back” socially.

Autism is treatable and students can make lots of progress, says Patricia Wright, national director of autism services for Easter Seals, who talked with AFT members about autism at this summer’s QuEST (Quality Educational Standards in Teaching) conference. She advises educating yourself about the disorder and reaching out to parents.

Bus para finds what works

In Brooklyn, N.Y., Reggie Colvin, too, finds his work challenging. A school bus paraprofessional in addition to his classroom job at a school for students with autism, Colvin is constantly figuring out how to keep his charges “mellow,” to intercede when they fly off the handle, and ultimately, to build their trust.

That’s especially true when students aren’t diagnosed until age 15 or 16 and “we have to start out of nowhere.” And it’s especially true on a bus. The long-term goal is to teach students how to ride independently, but that’s hard in the tight confines of a school bus—even tighter on a mini-bus.

Some students will bang their heads on the window, yank seat belts and vent their frustration, “all in a two-seat area,” says the United Federation of Teachers member. If they’re prone to outbursts, which can happen every day during a 30- to 60-minute ride, he may have to ask the driver to pull over. At times, “you have to try to protect yourself.” Bitten and scratched, he’s had to avail himself of procedures the UFT negotiated to protect against blood-borne pathogens (see related story, below).

The first rule is to remain calm. “Sometimes we take a lot of licks,” he says, laughing. “A whole lot of licks.”

But the physical nature of the work is just the obvious part. “You become wise,” Colvin says. “You learn that you can’t fight fire with fire.” Instead, he works up a plan with the classroom teacher, the school psychologist, the parents, the therapist, the whole team.

“You find out things that work,” he says, “a magazine or book, conversation. I have students who like to listen to music—it’s very soothing, so I carry a Walkman.” When his students behave, they’re treated to R&B, gospel or jazz.

Life in the real world

Colvin’s situation is growing more common. In the decade between 1994 and 2004, the number of children identified as having autism has leapt more than 500 percent, along with a roughly equivalent decline in the rates of mental retardation and learning disabilities. Researchers attribute the change to three things: a broader definition of autism, a wider recognition of the disorder in society, and more child psychiatrists who diagnose it.

Scientists are checking to see whether the growth in autism reflects damage done by mercury and aluminum in childhood vaccines—that is, whether the growing population is due to increased identification or to vaccines.

While school employees may not be scientific experts, they know why they’re needed and what they can accomplish. As the population with autism grows, so has the number of AFT members working with these children.

For Sherry Dietsch, inclusion is the name of the game. The Jefferson Federation of Teachers paraprofessional points to real-world training that’s part of the curriculum at Grace King High School in Metairie, La., where she helps with high-functioning students.

Because people with autism typically have weak motor skills, her students use computers, especially when their handwriting is not up to par. They also visit stores and job sites, and help make the school’s morning announcements—all of which improves their communication and vocational skills.

Dietsch works carefully at varying her students’ routes and routines. “We try different things to get them more accepting of change,” she says.

It’s the same story everywhere.

“We help them with what’s happening now and what’s happening next,” explains AFT member Tina Hosford, a preschool group leader at North Elementary School in Brighton, Colo., near Denver. She has watched in recent years as tots with autism have come to occupy one or two seats in every regular classroom.

Hosford agrees with her AFT colleagues that repetition and consistency are the keys to reassuring such kids. If you know a day will be different, or the class is going on a field trip, you send home a picture book of the upcoming event a few days beforehand and review it every day leading up to the big event.

Classroom professionals need to prod students to do as much as they can by themselves, and push parents toward the mainstream environment, says Hosford, a former chapter leader in the Colorado Classified School Employees Association, an
AFT affiliate.

Sherry Sedlack, another Colorado paraeducator, works with K-5 students with autism at Niwot Elementary School near Boulder. The CCSEA member thinks better identification is what’s behind their growing ranks.

Sedlack values the varied characteristics of her students. Some are “whizzes on computers, we’re seeing that,” she says. “Their minds are so fast.” She also likes the intense interests that students with certain types of autism develop, whether it’s trains, NASCAR or dinosaurs. One student can tell you “anything you want to know about any type of dinosaur … and spell it!”

She also notices how their powers of observation can be overwhelming. “If you go into a regular classroom, what do you see?” Sedlack asks. “If you’re observant, five or 10 things. But they will have in their minds the entire classroom, down to the minutest detail. That’s a lot of information to process. It can be kind of frightening. We help them build filters to categorize that information.”

Her Colorado district offers trouble-shooting through a resource teacher, meetings to exchange ideas, and formal classes to learn the theoretical underpinnings of autism. But mostly, Sedlack advises taking an intuitive approach to these children. “Just enjoy,” she says. “Enjoy what they have to offer and keep an open heart.”