When ABA Gets It Right: Collaborating with a Client
There’s one ABA team I work with who are, on the whole, pretty awesome. I’d like to give a few examples of things that make me happy about them:
– They acknowledge, in front of the client, that they know she understands a lot more than she is capable of expressing to us. They say things like “she’s having a hard time answering these questions” instead of “she doesn’t know the answer.” They are courteous.
– When she gets frustrated with a task, they don’t push or insist. When the client first says “all done,” they encourage “try again,” but if the client then says “no” or “you do it,” they respect her choice. As a result, she’s much more willing to actually try something again if she feels it is difficult but possible for her (or she wants to learn it).
– They not only allow the client to make activity choices, they also do a certain amount of power balancing, letting her direct them around and instruct them to do things. They also do a lot of the activities along with her. If she’s doing sit-ups, for example, her technician (or I) will do them as well. It’s not just an adult giving orders and a child being expected to follow them.
Here’s a story from last week that made me smile. It was an exciting day for the client– she had me, her ABA supervisor, and a new ABA tech all working with her. This is a very social pre-teen with multiple disabilities. She prefers communicating verbally, but has a fairly severe speech impediment. At best, her family understands maybe half of what she says– and less just recently, because she’s started using a lot more words and full sentences, which is very awesome but harder for us listeners to decipher.
We’re trying a relatively new activity– playing a matching game with cards, taking turns around the table. The client is obviously unenthusiastic at the sight of the cards. She gets the idea of putting them together in pairs, but doesn’t quite seem to understand the matching criteria. We each take two turns, and she has on her frustrated expression by the second one.
“I’m not sure this activity is going to work for her,” the therapist admits. We briefly talk about what might be wrong– perhaps the symbols on the card are too similar for her to distinguish easily, or too close together for her to count (she has some difficulty with visual tracking). Maybe “Go Fish” would be worth trying instead. In the meantime, we ease back to simply taking turns placing the cards on top of one another, which the client might find a little boring but at least not frustrating.
Near the end of the pile, the client says what sounds like “EEEnud.” “Did you say peanut?” we ask, baffled (there’s a lot of guessing involved when she speaks, and she’s generally very patient with us about it. Even better, she’s learning to sometimes rephrase or give other clues when we can’t figure out what she’s saying).
She tries again, and it sounds more like “eedhub.” “Eat up?” I guess, wondering if she’s hungry.
This time, she starts carefully chanting “Eenub, eenub, ebbuh-buvy…” at which point we all catch on at once and start singing with her “Clean up! Clean up! Everybody, everywhere…” (a short song that many therapists use at the end of an activity when it’s time to put away all the pieces). She’s prompting us to call it quits on this activity, so we do. And we’re all smiles, including the client.
That, my friends, is how you work WITH a child. Listen, respect feedback (verbal or behavioral), be flexible, take turns.