The Mighty Pen

 

Like me, Alex is an avid list maker. While I typically write lists of things I need to do or buy, Alex makes lists of dates, facts, and numbers he wants to remember. Over the years, his lists have taken varied forms: individual pieces of paper scattered throughout the house with his notes, legal pads filled with jotted assorted information, and his current preference, classic marble cover composition books filled with his mostly illegible scrawl. Certainly, the composition books are a neater way to store his various lists, and I prefer them to some of the other alternatives he’s chosen at times, including using his bedroom walls to record dates or his leg as a young boy to record pi digits because he couldn’t find paper, as he told me. Through it all, he has relied upon his trusty Bic ballpoint pens that will write on nearly any surface, as we have discovered.

Although Alex has his own iPad and Chromebook, he still makes his lists the old-fashioned way, writing them by hand. Even though he can type quite rapidly and accurately, he chooses the more labor-intensive pen and paper method. Because of his poor fine motor skills and hand tremors caused by medication to ease anxiety, Alex’s handwriting is barely legible. A casual reader could make out some numbers and a few letters, but overall, Alex’s writing looks more like an earthquake seismograph than anything else. Apparently, he can read most of what he writes, though, and perhaps he likes that only he can decipher what he’s recorded in his notebooks.

As a student who learned to take notes by hand because computers were not available, I figure that my preference for writing lists by hand shows my age––someone who grew up before the technology revolution of this century. Although I’ve tried taking notes on my iPad or Chromebook or laptop, I still prefer to write my notes by hand, often edited with crossed out words or arrows not needed in computer-generated text. Besides the familiarity of doing this task in the way I was taught to do it, I’ve also suspected that I remember things better that I have written by hand.

As I always told my students, writing notes sends various inputs to the brain: hearing what was said, seeing what was written, and the feeling of the hand motion in writing. As students began using Chromebooks to take notes, I noticed that they seemed to be disconnected from what they were typing, and I questioned whether they were remembering information as well as they did when they wrote notes by hand. Recent research confirms my suspicions that writing notes by hand is more effective than typing them on a keyboard.

In an online article in Scientific American published on June 3, 2014, psychology professor Cindi May describes research regarding the impact of writing notes by hand upon memory and depth of understanding. This article, “A Learning Secret: Don’t Take Notes with a Laptop,” explains research at UCLA and Princeton University by Pam Mueller and Daniel Oppenheimer. [To read this article, please click here.] In their studies, they compared how students performed on tests, depending on whether they took notes by hand or on a computer.

Because the students could type faster than write by hand, those who used computers took more notes, often copying verbatim what was said. While this process may seem advantageous, the researchers found that this method resulted in less retention of the material because it was a mindless task. Even though writing notes by hand is slower, the students had to “listen, digest, and summarize” the material presented, leading to better retention and comprehension of the material. As Professor May notes, “While technology allows us to do more in less time, it does not always foster learning.” She goes on to state that learning is more than simply taking in and giving out data. Emphasizing the value of taking notes by hand, she concludes, “If we want students to synthesize material, draw inferences, see new connections, evaluate evidence, and apply concepts in novel situations, we need to encourage the deep, effortful cognitive processes that underlie these abilities.” In other words, to develop higher levels of thinking, the slower and lower technology of writing by hand appears to be the best way.

As I watch Alex sitting with one of his many composition notebooks, pen poised to write down things that interest him, I realize that he knows the best way to learn and remember. Perhaps his amazing ability to remember statistics, dates, and facts is related to his insistence upon jotting them in his own handwriting, making meaning of seemingly random details and building connections in his mind. Moreover, he rarely consults these notebooks as reference materials, so I suspect that just the act of writing what he wants to remember achieves precisely that purpose for him because he does have a phenomenal memory of those things he has seen and heard and written down.

Although I want to help him develop his actual handwriting skills to make them more legible not only to others but also to Alex, I don’t want to mess with success. Apparently, his hieroglyphics have meaning to him, as evidenced by his ability to remember what he has written. In his intuitive way, he has discovered that the best way to make sense of a world that overwhelms him at times is to grab a notebook and a Bic pen and jot down data that he wants to remember. Moreover, he maintains his love of learning and has discovered the best way to develop the amazing mind God has given him. As Alex’s mom and teacher, I’m quite proud of my prized pupil.

“Write down what you have seen––both the things that are now happening and the things that will happen.” Revelation 1:19

Learning Continues

 

When Alex was little, the theory regarding developmental windows of opportunity caused needless anxiety for me, fearing that we only had a short time for him to learn needed skills. Promoting early childhood learning and early intervention for children with developmental delays, this windows concept stresses that optimal learning takes place between birth and the age of four. As I tried to teach preschooler Alex everything I thought he needed to know, I kept picturing that dreaded window slamming shut as I was running out of time.

Later research discovered the concept of brain plasticity in which the brain can modify its structure and function after bodily or environmental changes, such as brain trauma or disease. In fact, the brain can be remarkably adaptable, allowing further learning and modified behavior at any age, even after that learning window has supposedly long closed. As a teacher of adolescents, I know learning opportunities exist after age four because I see growth and development every school year in the students I teach. Moreover, I see Alex continue to develop his skills over time, even though he lags behind his peers due to autism.

A few days ago, a fascinating article regarding the continued ability to learn appeared in an online article in UCR Today. [To read this article, please click here.]  In “You’re Never Too Old to Learn That,” Mojgan Sherkat describes the research of University of California Riverside psychology professor Rachel Wu, whose paper “A Novel Theoretical Life Course Framework for Triggering Cognitive Development Across the Life Span” was recently published in the journal Human Development.

Professor Wu asserts that people develop habits and learning strategies throughout their lives that either encourage or discourage cognitive development. While infants and children learn many skills through broad learning experiences, adults learn to specialize their learning for their careers, becoming expert at certain skills. This specialized learning leads to cognitive decline, first in unfamiliar settings and later in both unfamiliar and familiar areas. To prevent the cognitive decline with age, people should engage in “broad learning experiences,” continuing to learn new skills.

Moreover, she contrasts the differences between broad learning, usually seen in children, and specialized learning, usually seen in adults, in six ways. For example, broad learning focuses upon learning new patterns and skills outside the comfort zone, whereas specialized learning shows preference for familiar routines. In addition, in broad learning, teachers and mentors guide the learners; in specialized learning, learners do not have access to experts who can help them. Also, while broad learning holds the belief that abilities develop with effort, specialized learning holds the belief that inborn talent is more important than effort. In another contrast, during broad learning, mistakes and failure are allowed as part of the learning process, but these same mistakes can have serious consequences in specialized learning, such as being fired from a job for incompetence. Yet another difference between the two types of learning is the serious commitment to learning found in broad learning versus little commitment to learning found in specialized learning, often due to time constraints or giving up when the task becomes difficult. Finally, broad learning, as its name suggest, involves learning multiple skills at the same time; specialized learning involves learning one––if any––skill at a time.

Consequently, to keep the mind sharp, adults must return to the learning styles they engaged in as children. As Professor Wu explains, “What I want adults to take away from this study is that we CAN learn many new skills at any age. It just takes time and dedication.” Thus, the proverbial “old dog” apparently can be taught “new tricks” with the proper amount of effort and willingness to learn.

Often, people will ask me what Alex is doing these days, now that he is a twenty-five-year-old young man living with autism. Because he cannot yet function in a job setting and because we have not found a day program appropriate for his needs, he is at home with us. However, he is not just sitting around; home schooling continues for Alex as we give him as many opportunities to learn as possible. Knowing that the window of opportunity to learn has not closed, we provide him with guidance, encouragement, and the tools he needs to learn. He spends his days reading, researching online, engaged in conversation with us, and getting out in the community by going to restaurants, concerts, sporting events, and other activities he enjoys. As career teachers and parents, Ed and I hope to continue to develop this broad learning so critical to Alex’s continued progress.

Last week, we were able to see how Alex learns through a series of unusual events. Apparently, he had some virus (as I later discovered his music therapist and one of my colleagues also had experienced last week) that caused him to have no appetite. Since Alex has always been a good eater, this caught us totally by surprise, especially when he wouldn’t even eat his favorite foods, such as shrimp, white chili, and meatloaf. Ever the researcher, Alex delved into his various huge medical books and Internet medical websites, trying to diagnose his ailment, just as many of us do when we have odd symptoms.

Although we tried to reassure him that he had nothing serious and encouraged him to eat a few things that appealed to him, such as applesauce and Jello, he decided to begin a new search on mortality. Since Alex has never had to deal with the death of anyone close to him, this may have been his first time exploring the concept of death. Along with recently having discussed the meaning of Easter and Jesus’ death and resurrection, Alex decided to study the abstract concepts of life, death, and immortality. However, we, along with his therapist, had to reassure him that he was not going to die from a brief loss of appetite. Nonetheless, our conversations with him revealed that he continues to develop a depth of understanding about the world around him, even those difficult to comprehend issues of life, death, and eternal life promised by the sacrifice of Christ. Clearly, Alex continues to develop his cognitive skills, and we eagerly anticipate all that he will learn and share with us in that amazing mind God has given him.

“That is what the Scriptures mean when they say, ‘No eye has seen, no ear has heard, and no mind has imagined what God has prepared for those who love Him.’” I Corinthians 2:9

Explore and Explain

 

Ever since he was a little boy, Alex has always loved learning, to the point we nicknamed him “Mr. Curious.” His precocious reading skills allowed him to do his own research from the time he was a preschooler, and he continues to show an interest in seeking knowledge by reading books and doing Google searches online about topics of interest. If he doesn’t know something, he will “check it out,” as he often says, not satisfied until he finds the data he needs. Like Alex, I love doing research and reading about topics I find interesting. After he was diagnosed with autism, most of my reading and research focused upon autism, not only because I found it interesting, but also because I wanted to understand how Alex thinks and behaves and to find ways to help him.

An article published online this week entitled “Autism And The Drive To Explain And Explore” caught my attention as it deals with how children with autism are motivated to learn. In this commentary, psychology professor Tania Lombrozo summarizes research published by M.D. Rutherford and Francys Subiaul last year in the journal Autism. [To read this article, please click here.] This research focused upon how children with autism differ in how they learn as compared to typical children. While all of the children they tested had the same mental age, the children with autism ranged in chronological age from 3-10, whereas the children who did not have autism were four years old.

One experiment involved a physical task in which children had to turn wooden blocks with pictures of dogs on them so that the dogs were standing up. One of the blocks was weighted and would not stand properly. Researchers observed the children’s reaction to this problem to see if they would try to figure out what was wrong with the block by studying the block or touching the table or by asking the adult for help or an explanation of why the block wouldn’t balance. The children with autism were much more likely to engage in “exploratory and explanatory” behaviors than the typical children, touching the table, asking “why” questions, and providing explanations regarding the problem block.

In another experiment, children were given a social task in which they asked an adult for a sticker by holding out their hands. After a while, the adult ignored their requests to see what the children would do. While the typical children repeated the hand gesture, looked at the sticker or the adult’s face, or tried to get the adult’s attention, the children with autism were less likely to engage in these behaviors. The researchers concluded that in this social task, children with autism did not have an increased “drive to explore or explain.” The researchers suggested that children with autism may have increased drive to explore and explain in some realms but not in the social domain.

The author of the article wisely notes that this research regarding the ways children with autism try to find explanations is new; therefore, drawing conclusions may be premature. Specifically, were the children with autism less interested in the social task, or did they possess the same motivation as the typical children but lacked the skills needed to engage in the social task? However, this research describing children’s “explanatory drive,” or the motivation to explain confusing circumstances, concludes that “children with autism have an exceptional explanatory drive” in physical context but not in social context.

As a teacher and the parent of a child with autism, I question the conclusions the researchers of this study made. Living with “Mr. Curious,” I have seen that “exceptional explanatory drive,” where Alex scientifically studies physical phenomena, trying to make sense of them. If he cannot figure out something by observation, he will ask us questions and/or find a book or an online source to satisfy his need to know. Had he been presented the block puzzle in the research project, I can picture him studying that block, comparing it to the others, and trying to find out why it was different.

However, I can also picture him not engaged in the social sticker-begging activity. First of all, I wonder if a different motivator had been offered if the children with autism might have been more engaged in the task. Perhaps if they had been seeking food or a toy that could do something, they might have been more persistent than just looking to get a silly sticker. (We have never found sticker charts to be useful to motivating Alex. However, the reward of cash or the promise of a fun activity works wonders.)

Moreover, maybe children with autism have superior social skills that were misinterpreted in this research experiment. Instead of pestering the adult who was ignoring them, they gave up asking for a sticker. Maybe they assumed that the person was busy and politely left the adult alone, rather than selfishly pushing their own agenda. Having lived with Alex for more than a quarter century, I have found that he doesn’t bother with people who don’t engage with him, and he doesn’t seem to give slights, whether intentional or not, any thought. His feelings aren’t hurt, and he instead seeks those who do interact with him. To me, this shows a superior sense of social interaction: recognizing those who are worthy of our social efforts and ignoring those who ignore us.

While this research on what motivates children to explore and explain is fascinating, we must be careful not to misinterpret the behaviors observed in the experiments. In real-life settings, children with autism seem to have a strong motivation to learn about the world around them. Their responses to social experiments may not be a lack of motivation, but rather a more reasoned reaction to rewards or people who don’t engage them. Jumping to conclusions that they are not motivated in social contexts shows a lack of understanding about how children with autism perceive other people and fails to recognize that they do, indeed, possess social skills that may even be superior to those of most.

“Intelligent people are always ready to learn. Their ears are open for knowledge.” Proverbs 18:15

Windows

This summer I have read two memoirs written by mothers of children with autism, which I always find interesting as I compare notes. Both of these books discussed the concept of “windows of opportunity,” the critical stages of brain development, and the race to have their children master skills by certain ages. This windows theory from the 1970’s has haunted parents of children with developmental delays who are frantically trying to help their children reach milestones before those windows close. I’m reminded of the scene from the movie Titanic where the workers in the bowels of the sinking ship must hurry before the doors to the watertight compartments closed tightly, trapping them from ever escaping. Like the workers helping each other as they scramble through the doors that seal their fate, parents push their children toward those developmental windows, not wanting them to be left behind their peers. Of course, this windows theory drives the need for early intervention, making certain that children with developmental delays, such as autism, get the help they need as soon as they are diagnosed.

Despite our best efforts and concerns, Alex wasn’t officially diagnosed with autism until shortly after he turned four years old. At that time, the prevailing thought was that the main window of child development closed at age five, giving us only about a year to push Alex as far as he could go. As if dealing with a child with autism weren’t stressful enough, the thought of having a rather brief time limit to “fix” him only added to the worries. His special education preschool teacher (the same one who made him hold a sign that said, “IGNORE ME!”) apparently bought into this windows theory because she would repeatedly express concerns about Alex’s thumb sucking and trouble with toilet training. Basically, she seemed to believe that if he didn’t master toileting and stop sucking his thumb by his fifth birthday, he would never break his thumb sucking habit, nor would he ever toilet independently. Since I had sucked my thumb until I was nearly six years old, I knew her beliefs were wrong. Nonetheless, my own reading and research about child development indicated that many people believed the windows theory to be true, and I felt pressure to help Alex develop as many skills as possible before that dreaded window was supposed to close at age five.

As a middle school teacher, I was taught in education classes that students cannot learn much during adolescence because hormonal changes affect their brains and distract them from learning new skills. Like the windows concept, this adolescent learning plateau hypothesis may be true in theory, but I have found both ideas to be false in practice. I know that my seventh graders learn new skills in the year that they spend with me, and I have the data to prove it. Similarly, children continue learning after that alleged window closes at age five; I have observed that Alex has gained a great deal of knowledge and skills after he turned five. Despite his preschool teacher’s dire predictions, he did stop sucking his thumb and started using the toilet on his own—in his own good time, when he was ready to master these tasks. Ironically, once Alex turned five and we got past that dreaded window that nagged me, even if I didn’t totally buy into the theory, I felt a rush of fresh air come into our lives. No longer racing against an arbitrary clock, we continued working with Alex and celebrated each milestone, knowing that learning is not something to be rushed, but rather to be enjoyed as a lifelong pursuit with each person mastering skills on his or her own timetable. Thankfully, we have found this to be true with Alex, who continues to learn and develop, long after his fifth birthday has past.

“So she helped him climb out through a window, and he fled and escaped.” I Samuel 19:12