the little group - the hard goodbye

I was never big on school. In the early years I was that kid who always wee'd in the wendy house. Later, it was just a case of counting the minutes until home-time before mastering the art of the duvet day and the recurring wrist injury that always flared up on P.E. and exam days. I wasn't an enthusiastic pupil and, not surprisingly, the highest position of responsibility I ever held was milk monitor at primary school. I always got satisfactorily middle-class grades but after twice dropping, bored-rigid, out of different universities, I finally decided that, although I would have made a great, wafty art student: enough was enough. Education just wasn't "me".

Of course, I certainly don't want transfer my sketchy educational attitude to my boys, but the stroppy rebel without a clue in me has always been lurking whenever I've crossed the threshold of any school and I'd always thought that I'd rather boil my head than be a member of a PTA.

It therefore came as quite a shock to the system to be driving J home from his last ever session at his nursery, "the little group", in uncontrollable tears, after saying goodbye to his amazing teachers. 

This is a preschool in Epsom that caters for kids with complex communication difficulties and autistic spectrum disorders. I heard about it almost by chance but after the first conversation with the lovely, lovely deputy head, Nicky, my (sizeable) gut feeling was that no other place would do for J at this vital time of "early intervention". On meeting Nicky and Judy (the head), my mind was made up. The world of special needs is a funny old place and prior to meeting these 2 lovely people, I'd (wrongly) assumed that we'd always have to endure the slightly embarrassing but extremely well-meant renditions of "Hello J la la la" with a bucketful of sign language thrown in, sung loudly and faux-jollily into J's face. 

the little group's mission is as follows:

"The little group aspires to leading the field in the provision of early intervention for children with autistic spectrum disorders and their families and to inspire the practice of others

We aim to provide - 

An irresistible invitation to participate

High levels of consistency

A high autism knowledge base within the team

A calm and clear environment 

Clearly communicated boundaries

Low numbers in each teaching group

Highly visual teaching methods 

Highly predictable routines "

This all sounds promising but in practice, what they do with these kids is spectacular. All the above is delivered and then some. It starts with the people - no happy-clappy stuff, just totally respectful and enthusiastic and "normal". No silly voices  and no falseness - just lovely, calm and fun people who really know their stuff about autism. These people enjoy working with kids with autism and they recognise the fact that a lot of us parents are struggling with finding our feet in this alien land and are often sleep deprived or up the creek without a paddle. They willingly (thank you, Kylie!) spend the time with each parent, although they've spent all day working miracles with our children, discussing and suggesting solutions for any concerns and conundrums.

For J and his classmates, even staying on their stools right up close to other kids and paying attention to what the teacher is saying, is a battle. But when faced with something as cool as a lemonade fountain/exploding glittery film canister/or various other very messy but totally fascinating activities, they soon learn that it's more interesting to take your hands out of your pants/nose/neighbour's face and check out what's going on. That safe little bubble that people with autism crave isn't so vital when you're being lured into a more interesting and colourful and sociable world so confidently and invitingly.

I could wax lyrical about all the brilliant things they do with the children but the punchline for me is that J went in there as a frightened little knot of anxiety with few communication skills and fewer social skills but has come out the other end as a little bloke with autism who is sometimes open to learning and accepting other people's agendas. He's learnt that trusting people other than just his closest family is ok and he seems ready for the next step. Of course he still needs people who understand him and he'll never be squashed into a mould. But they've put him on the right track for learning to be a person in the big wide world and not just in the soft, protected confines of family life. The large battle we fought with our LEA to fund his place out-of-borough and the 3 hour's a day of taxiing him to and fro have been worth every second.

I'm so sad to say goodbye but both me and J have learnt so much from them. I've also learnt that there are some super-special people out there who are rooting for kids like J. And that is a good lesson. 

So, here's a huge double thank you to the team at the little group - not only have you done amazing work with J and our whole family, but you've also dispelled my rotten attitude to education once and for all - if there'd been a little group PTA, I would have been right there waving flags, ringing bells and baking fancies. Whoa - I never saw that one coming!