One Picture at a Time

The school day was ending as my students re-entered my classroom from specials. While my students made their way to their desks I noticed my autistic student entering the room visibly upset. As he made his way to his seat, he threw a piece of paper in the trash and went and put his head down on his desk. Knowing that this student could be easily triggered when out of the classroom, I went to check on him. Frustrated, he shared that he was terrible at drawing, as he pointed angrily at the recently discarded piece of paper. I retrieved the paper and saw a well-drawn stegosaurus on the page. I brought the paper back to his desk and asked him to tell me more about the picture. He grew angry as he shared that he had drawn it too small for the project and had to start all over. He clearly felt defeated. 

So I asked him if I could keep it. 

I asked if he would take the next few minutes to color it and finish it as he wished, and then I would hang it up. I could see the stress, anger and frustration ease away from him as he continued to finish his picture; as he finished sharing his perspective.  Once he was done adding details to the picture, I hung it up over my desk for everyone to see - but most importantly for him to see. 

It was during this experience that I realized the power of a picture, the power of a perspective. It wasn't about the stegosaurus, it was about showing this autistic student that the way he viewed the world was valued. 

This moment changed me as a person. I remember how powerful this simple gesture - hanging up a picture - was to a child, and I have carried it with me to this day. 

Years later, as I was navigating motherhood with my own child on the spectrum, I was once again reminded of the power of a picture.

I was in the middle of trying to keep my composure during the chaos of family pictures, while my oldest son Dawson continued to reach for the photographer's camera. Our photographer, Elizabeth, would gently redirect Dawson to smile and told him that he would get a chance to take a picture at the very end. And though he would continually ask, this promise kept him smiling and focused on the task at hand. As we completed our photo session, Elizabeth let Dawson decide what he would like to take a picture of. He requested a pine tree. She patiently taught him how to appropriately use her camera to take his picture. It was a beautiful moment that I knew Dawson had cherished. 

A couple days later when Elizabeth posted a few samples of the family pictures from our photo shoot, she included the Dawson Kugel Photography original! While editing the photos, she branded his work, his view. She had shown both myself and Dawson, and truly the world, the power of his point of view - the power of a picture. 

Today, that Dawson Kugel Photography original picture remains framed on top of our stove - a focal point in our house. As you enter our home you will see that Dawson's view of the world is celebrated. And just as my student experienced years before, Dawson sees every day that the way he views the world is valued.

Everyday we teach, coach and guide those on the spectrum to acclimate their perspectives and actions to fit into a neurotypical world. Perhaps we could instead teach those who are neurotypical to see the world through the eyes of autistic individuals... one picture at a time.