Ways to support neurodivergent kids building self-advocacy skills

Lessons in self-love and healthy attachment

I get triggered during meetings with school administrators. Emotionally hijacked by the imbalance of power, defensive posturing, student blaming and shaming, the list goes on and on. I know it doesn’t have to be this way and others’ experiences are varied, but in most of these settings where I have found myself repeatedly over the past decade-plus on behalf of my sons, I feel helpless and defeated by the end no matter how confident and calm I am when I show up.

My older son is a senior in high school, and neither of my kids has ever fit the mold of what it takes to be “successful” at school in the traditional sense. Neurodivergent is a great way to describe this because it means diverging from the “norm,” not in the box. Which I have come to understand as neither bad nor good. Of course there are lots of “good” ways of talking about neurodivergence, as kids with ADHD, autism, and other labels are often creative thinkers, gifted in unique ways, and great at problem solving.

Not what administrators are looking for in these meetings, I have found. But then.

Last year, we had one of these 504 or IEP or whatever meetings on the books. I wore my favorite blazer so I could invoke my Director persona. My intention was to command the meeting and advocate for my kiddo and finally get him the interventions he needed to feel successful at school. I had two people on our side dial into the meeting—a therapist and a state-level disability resource representing the school system. I felt so armed.

But the school brought in 7 people (teachers, counselors, assistant principals, special needs teachers; I don’t know how they found 7 people), and I felt outnumbered immediately. The tone was adversarial; their talking points were against my son: he gets his phone out during class, he doesn’t turn his work in, he gets distracted, has emotional breakdowns, etc. etc. etc.

Internally, I began to crumble pretty quickly. But then I looked over at my son, and he seemed attentive, a little smiley, and very calm. When someone finally addressed him, I think one of his teachers who had just made 20 excuses for why he couldn’t implement any of the accommodations in the IEP, asked him exasperatedly, how can I help you? My kid replied, I would like you to write the assignments up on the board, and I would like to sit closer to the front of the room so I can see what’s on the board and have an easier time paying attention.

Boom.

The tide turned. My kid was owning his power, advocating for himself, and I could not have been prouder. Only he knew what he needed, and in that moment he asked for exactly that.

Mind you, this person was a junior in high school, so on the cusp of “adulthood,” and years into dealing with this bullsh*t.

How exactly he got there is his story to tell, but I can tell you the work I had been doing as a parent to support him that might have contributed. Nothing turned my kids into self-advocates overnight. I think this is deep work that takes long-term commitment to new behaviors, not a step-by-step protocol. The payoff, of course, is multifold: self-love for parents, self-love for kids, healthy attachment, and the best launch possible when the time comes.

1. Most obvious: Put self-advocacy in the IEP. We got his teachers to agree that this was an important skill. Naming the skill was a good first step for me and the team. At some point in his high school career, I realized that speaking his needs was going to take him far and was way more important than traditional academic skills. Self-advocacy is how we get promoted at work, how we get what we need in our intimate relationships, and truly the first step to loving ourselves. Before that particular meeting, he and I talked through the meeting, imagining how it was going to go and thinking through what he might ask for.

2. Be a nonanxious presence. Way easier said than done, but this became a mantra for me after I read it in William Stixrud and Ned Johnson’s book The Self-Driven Child: The Science and Sense of Giving Your Kids More Control Over Their Lives. They give a lot of practical advice for how to become a nonanxious presence, but for me it boils down to enjoying my children for who they are. When I notice myself going into hyper controller mode or doing a lot of nagging, I try to intervene and ask myself, when was the last time you spent 1:1 time with your kid, enjoying what they enjoy? The 3:1 compliment: nag ratio goes a long way here as well.

3. Provide scaffolding. Do not be afraid to offer a lot of scaffolding at first, advocating for your kids on their behalf and even asking their teachers not to mention your communication to your child. Whatever it takes. Know that you will slowly remove the scaffolding, but it is so important that your child starts to have little wins. Riding that momentum will help you step away when you can. I remember when my kids first started going to sleep on their own, I would slowly remove myself from their bed as they dozed off. Same concept here.

4. Model self-advocacy. Managing my own stress is another key element in the nonanxious formula. Practicing asking for help in big and small ways every single day is how I move from martyr to healthy mom. Whether or not my children see me asking for help all the time, they feel the energy shift. And when they are the ones who get asked for help, everybody wins.

While these parenting guidelines are helpful for all moms and dads, I have found them to be skills that take a lot of honing as a mom to neurodivergents, like they really stand out as especially needed and especially hard. The main message is to be overt about self-advocacy for neurodivergent kids (or “squiggly brained” as

Michelle at SPACIES

calls it.) Emailing teachers, asking for help or exceptions or anything at all, does not come naturally to squiggly brained kids who may barely know what’s going on in the first place due to challenges with memory, cognition, and language receptivity. Spelling out for them what to say and when to say it can be something you start early.

As

Heidi Fiedler

writes, “My son is still quite young, but I have a mental list of scripts I'm modeling that I hope he will pick up on like ‘I need to take a break.’”

“Highly sensitive” is another phrase I hear in reference to these types. They are sensitive to our anxious behaviors, which means they can also be sensitive to our calmness. They are sensitive to our martyrdom and victim stances, which means they will learn from our integrated, healthy choices. And the better you can nurture the relationship between you and your kid, the easier it becomes to ride the challenging waves together when they are not fitting in the boxes that the world asks them to inhabit.

Thanks to

Kathryn Barbash, PsyD

for prompting this post! On a related topic check out a post by

Emily W. King, Ph.D.

:

Nurturing the Independence of Neurodivergent Teens