Learning to Express Empathy

When someone is going through a difficult time, it is sometimes hard for any of us to know how to express our sympathy. However, most neuro-typical people are able to find some way to approach this subject. We know that sad events need to be acknowledged even though we ourselves may not have experienced them. Children with autism, however, may not know how to handle such situations and may not even realize the impact of the sad event on those affected by it. For these reasons, they may need some guidance in how to respond to others grief. Perhaps a friend has a family member who died or a pet has gotten lost.

A few years ago Marisa asked me a question for a very surprising reason. "Mom, when will you die?" I asked, "Why?" She simply answered, "I want daddy to marry PJ's mom! Then he can be my brother!" I was so dumbfounded by what she said and by her way of thinking. She wasn't considering any of the consequences of what she asked. All she was thinking was what she thought would be nice for her. She wasn't concerned with who would be hurt, or even if it could be possible for things to turn out the way she would want. Just because she had a crush on this boy was not a good reason to turn the world upside down. What was most disturbing to me, however, was that Marisa didn't seem to realize the impact of what she asked or how much she hurt my feelings. In order for her to understand, I had to turn it around and ask her the same blatant question, "How would you feel if I suggested that you die in order for something to be different for me?" She obviously didn't like that very much and finally was able to realize how wrong it was. "I'm so sorry mom!" she said after thinking about how much she had hurt me. "I didn't mean it that way."

More recently, Marisa was responding to a friend on IM, who wrote that her grandmother had died. Marisa wrote back about her activities of the day without even acknowledging the friend's grief. "How rude of you not to even say something. I just lost my grandmother," the friend wrote. I was standing behind Marisa and happened to see this, and I was so glad I did. "Marisa, how can you go on writing about your day's activities without even responding to this sad note? How would you feel if it was your grandmother who died?" I asked. "I'm sorry," Marisa said. I suggested she tell her friend that she was not thinking, and tell her how sorry she was to hear the news. The friend accepted that and was feeling better about what happened. I was lucky that I happened to be there at the right moment to correct Marisa's thoughtless mistake.

If a friend is sad and you know it, then ask what is wrong and how you can help.

Unfortunately, this is easier said than done. It is difficult for children on the autism spectrum to recognize and respond to the grief of others. Facial expression charts and mirrors are wonderful for helping young children recognize different feelings and emotions. When Marisa was very young I purchased a feelings chart to help her recognize facial expressions, and when she was crying she would run to the mirror to look at her face. Although she was able to recognize her own sadness and that of others, she still did not know how to respond appropriately when someone else was sad. I believe empathy toward others can be learned probably best by having the child think of them self in the situation that creates sadness. Marisa was able to understand her friends feelings and my feelings when she thought of her self in our place. Only then was she able to feel the sorrow and come up with her very own appropriate response. Just today, I realized how far Marisa has come.

Over the weekend I developed an awful allergy to pollen in the air. Usually I have hay fever in the fall but this past Saturday I spent almost a whole day outdoors with Marisa's activities. By Saturday afternoon I couldn't stop sneezing, and oddly Marisa had the same problem. "We both seem to have an allergy," I said, "and it's awful," I remarked as we sneezed in unison. Now two days later, we're both much better. When Marisa came home from school today she commented, "Are you feeling better mom?" I was pleasantly surprised as I responded, "Yes, I'm much better, and how are you?" "I'm better too!" she said. I realized then that Marisa was able to empathize with me, because she had been feeling the same miserable symptoms that I had.

Food Safety In Food Preparation

Marisa has always watched me prepare a meal since she was just a toddler standing on a stool. I always figured she would learn by osmosis. Of course most kids will pick up some knowledge about food preparation this way, but is it really enough? About a year ago, I found out that it definitely is not.

Last year, Marisa wanted to make her own English muffin pizza from a recipe in one of her magazines. When she asked me if we could buy the ingredients she needed, I was more than happy to do it. It's always better to learn by experience, so I was happy Marisa was eager to prepare her own pizza. She even learned how to set the oven and turn it off when done. She had been doing this successfully each day, on her own, during the winter recess from school.

Then, about the fourth day of making pizza for lunch, I happened to notice an opened jar of sauce in the cabinet among other unopened jars and cans of food. Not just concerned but horrified at what I knew this was, I asked, "Marisa, what is this jar of sauce in the kitchen cabinet? Is this the jar you've been making pizza with this week?" She proudly announced, "I only needed a few spoons each day so I'm saving it."

"Oh no, you always must refrigerate an opened jar of sauce," I replied as I opened the jar to sniff the contents. It can grow bacteria, and make you sick if it's not refrigerated once it's opened," I said as I threw the sauce in the garbage. I could not believe that I had taken such an important step in food preparation for granted. In all the years of having Marisa observe me while cooking, I assumed she would know that an opened jar needed to be refrigerated. Well, I was wrong to assume.

Then one day, Marisa expressed an interest in making a tuna sandwich with celery on whole wheat bread. "That sounds really nice! Where did you get the recipe?" I asked. "It's in Seventeen Magazine," she replied. "Okay, we'll do it" I said. This time I was determined to break down every step in the making of this sandwich, so she would be able to do it on her own the next time. The difference was that nothing would be taken for granted. The steps were broken down but would also have food safety in mind.

A few weeks later, after a heavy snow storm, I was outside shoveling way past lunchtime. When I went into the house, I asked Marisa what she had for lunch. "I made a tuna sandwich with celery on rye toast," she announced. I thought of one of the food safety tips I had taught Marisa, and wondered if she remembered. "How did you take the mayonnaise out of the jar?" I asked. "I used a clean spoon," she answered. "That's right!," I replied, so happy that she remembered. "You don't want to get tuna into the mayonnaise, because the tuna will grow bacteria. We want to make sure the mayonnaise stays clean." "Yes, I know," she answered with a definite ring of confidence in her voice.

One step at a time. One moment to learn from. Like savings in a bank, all these small moments to learn from will surely pay off in time. So what if it takes longer or requires repeated reminders? We all learn at different rates. In the end, what really counts is helping our children feel confident with their ability and knowledge to do the right thing. We as parents have the power to make that happen and our reward is watching their job well done!

Using Coupons Wisely

"I need to go to Aeropostale!" Marisa declared bright and early on a Sunday morning.

"What for?" I asked, even though I knew the answer had to be because of some coupon she had found. Marisa is constantly searching the Internet and her magazines for freebies and coupons.

She had just received the latest issue of Seventeen Magazine in the mail on Friday, so I knew something was up.

"I can get a free tee shirt!" she replied. I asked her to show me where she had seen that. She quickly ran down to her bedroom to retrieve the latest issue of Seventeen Magazine. As she flipped through the pages, I waited to see what enticing advertisement she had seen. When I glanced at the ad it was clear to see that free tee shirts were being given away with no gimmicks or need to purchase anything. It seemed too good to be true.

We arrived at the mall and headed for Aeropostale. Marisa walked around the store looking for the free tee shirt table. Then a salesperson realized what we were there for and quickly directed us. Marisa picked out a pink tee shirt. "Is that all?" I asked. Then Marisa informed me that she had a $10 off coupon if she made a purchase. "Okay," I replied wearily as I followed her down the aisle. Marisa, the quickest shopper I've ever seen, knew what she wanted. She approached a 50% off table of tee shirts and picked out a pretty purple shirt with peace signs and Aeropostale adorned in silver glitter.

We headed for the checkout counter and Marisa quickly pulled her $10 off coupon from her wallet. "Oh, you need to spend $50 to use the coupon," the sales clerk said. I should have realized this was coming. "Okay, we'll look around some more," I said, not wanting to disappoint Marisa. We browsed the tee shirt table again and Marisa selected another shirt. "It won't add up to $50," I said, "so why not look at something else." Marisa did not take long to find a pair of Bermuda length jean shorts. I thought we were done by now, with two tee shirts and a third one free plus a pair of jean shorts, but when the items were totaled at the checkout counter they only came to $48. "On the counter here, we have some underwear on sale for $2," the sales clerk said, but Marisa headed for the regular underwear, because that's what she preferred. She returned holding her selection. The sales clerk quickly informed me that the price was $7.50, much more than we needed to spend to reach the $50 required to use the $10 off coupon. "Who cares," I announced. "I just want to get out of here!" With a grand total of $58 and $10 off we ended up spending $48. Marisa left the store happy!

"Marisa, we spent $48 on things you didn't need. Do you even have room in your drawers? I think we did enough shopping for at least the next month," I said. As I drove home I started to lecture Marisa about how important it is to save money for the things we really need, like paying for housing and food. "When you're living on your own you will have to consider the things you need to pay for before spending on the things you want," I said. As I lectured, I could see Marisa getting angry in the back seat. She started to grit her teeth and look upset. I knew I was not being fair. "Okay," I said, "we'll just have to come up with a plan for how we will use coupons in the future."

You must be wondering why I agreed to spend money on things she didn't need. When Marisa has a coupon, she gets very upset if she goes to the store and doesn't get to use it, so rather than create a situation that would lead to disappointment, frustration and an outburst, I was better off letting it go this time. In retrospect it would have been wiser if I had asked Marisa if she had any coupons before leaving the house.

Two ideas came to mind from this experience. First, it would have been wise to go over all of Marisa's coupons before the trip to the mall. By doing so, I would have had a chance in the privacy of our home, to come up with a plan for what was needed. Perhaps the coupon could have been saved for a future trip if there was no immediate need. Even if it couldn't be saved, it surely wouldn't be the last coupon she'd ever see.

The second thought that came to mind is to make Marisa more aware of how her funds are being used each month. Rather than recording all the things she spends her money on, it might be better to start with the total each month and have her deduct the necessary expenses like her rent, food purchases, school and recreation expenses. Then she would be able to use the remaining money for the things she would like to spend on like new clothing, jewelry, makeup and book and magazine purchases. It's a new plan that I will put in place for next month, as I've already explained to Marisa. At least going over this plan didn't make her angry like my lecture in the car did.

This morning Marisa entered the kitchen ready for a new day and a new school week. She was wearing her new purple Aeropostale tee shirt all decked out in silver and tucked neatly into her new denim Bermuda length shorts. "You look so pretty today Marisa!" I said as I thought about how annoying I must have been the day before while lecturing her on our way home from the mall. "She really didn't do so badly," my husband announced. "After all, she did get a free tee shirt and all the clothes half off along with the $10 off coupon." "We just need to help her learn to budget better and with a little help she will," I replied. I then thought, For a girl who is so fashion conscious it definitely shows, but what's really nice is that Marisa is self-assured and happy with the way she looks. To me, that's half the battle! It doesn't get much better than that!

How Does Trust Grow?

It grows a teeny, tiny bit at a time.

I never thought the day would come when I would actually be able to allow Marisa to be out alone unsupervised. There were many reasons for that. Marisa would approach strangers for no other reason than that they were good looking. She would wander on to other people's property just because it was inviting enough. She would go with anyone who asked her to just because they happened to ask. In other words, Marisa had no concept of what was right, acceptable or safe.

Over the years we have worked through all these difficulties with the use of goal charting. Walking out of the house and wandering off was on the forbidden list for obvious reasons related to safety of a young child unaware of dangers. Losing points on her goal chart each time she would wander out of the house, or onto other neighbor's property without an invitation to do so, was traumatic enough for her to stop herself from repeating such behaviors.

Approaching strangers was another challenging behavior we needed to put a stop to. Marisa would frequently approach people that she felt were attractive and then attempt to exchange phone numbers. Not only would she approach strangers out in public, but she would search for peers on Facebook who were living and attending school in our community. This was not a wise thing to do, because she placed herself in the vulnerable position of being made fun of without even realizing it. She needed to understand that people she was connecting with were not her friends in any sense of the word. Due to her autism and naivety, this was a bit of a challenge. We needed to have many serious discussion about the meaning of friendship and who our real friends are.

It was just this past week that I had to give serious thought to how much I could really trust Marisa. Schools were closed for Easter and Passover break. Marisa was home and unable to arrange plans with friends, because she had a cold. Having attended two birthday parties, two shopping trips to the mall, lots of time connecting with her friends through e-mail and instant messaging, it still was not enough activity to keep Marisa happy. Something new was brewing under the surface. It was a growing desire to assert her independence ... if just a little more.

Near the end of the vacation she approached me and said, "I want to take a walk outside alone." My older daughter had just come back from a run around our neighborhood, and I realized that Marisa lit up like a light bulb when the thought occurred to her that she should be able to do that too."No, it's not a good idea. We can walk together," I replied hoping she would let it go. Marisa wasn't giving up as she said, "But I want to walk alone without you!" "Not a good idea to go alone. Even I don't like walking alone," I said hoping she would accept that. It wasn't to be, though. "But I'm 19 and want to walk alone. I won't go off the path or talk to any strangers," she pleaded. I realized how important this was becoming to her and finally decided to give it a try. "OKAY! OKAY!" She rushed to her room to change into a comfortable walking outfit. When she returned, she was wearing a flimsy tank over shorts. "Go put on a tee shirt to walk out in public. It's not like you're on an indoor treadmill at home," I said. Marisa rushed back to her room to change. She was so excited to have this new found freedom. It was not just the freedom she was rejoicing but the idea that I believed enough in her ability to do what was right and safe ... her ability to be trusted finally to make the right choices on her own.

When she returned ready to venture out I said, "You have 15 minutes to walk. You should be back by then." "Okay, I will," she replied. I can't even tell you the thoughts and feeling that were going through my mind for those minutes that she was gone. I knew she could be trusted to do all the right things. I knew she would be safe out there on her own, and that was because of all the years of preparation leading up to this moment. And I thought, What good are all the goals and all the lessons on proper behavior if she's never going to have a chance to use what she has learned? Then she was back in 12 minutes. "I'M HOME!" she called out with a broad smile on her face! "How was your walk?" I asked. "It was good! I'm a MATURE 19 year old!" she replied with a proud, satisfied smile on her face.

Tantrum Over Losing a Password?

Marisa spends a good deal of time on her computer as other teens do when they come home from school. Usually, as she listens to her music on itunes, she catches up on e-mail, instant messaging and her favorite social groups, but this particular evening something was suddenly going very wrong for her.

As I was cleaning up the dishes, she started to yell and complain, "I lost it! I can't get it!"

I dropped what I was doing to check out the problem at hand. "What did you lose?" I asked.

"I forgot my password for the JCPenny on-line contest," she cried. There was a distinct tremor and panic in her voice along with the anger mixed with tears so distinct to her when she was feeling frustrated and helpless. "Hmm ... let me see," I said to try and help her regain her composure.

A few weeks ago Marisa had insisted on heading over to JCPenny to have me take a few pictures of her posing with the display of mannequins. She wanted to enter an on-line modeling contest sponsored by JCPenny. Why not!, I thought. It's a fun idea and will give Marisa a way to compare herself to others entering the contest. She always worked hard at putting her own unique look together and was proud of the way she looked. Feeling good about herself was something that she had come to achieve, not only by creating her own fashion sense, but by developing good eating habits and being determined to exercise daily. She so wanted to do this that it seemed well worth it.

After taking the pictures we headed home. Once at home, Marisa created her user name and password to upload her pictures to the website and enter the contest. Then she was able to return to it each day to see how she ranked with other contestants. What a fun idea! Well, it was fun until she forgot her password.

"Why did you forget your password?" I asked. "Haven't you been checking the contest daily?"

Well, she didn't seem to have an answer, and it did seem very odd to me that she would forget anything. Marisa has such a remarkable memory after all. I thought it was possible there was a problem with the website. "It's really very simple to fix," I said. I showed Marisa that under her username there is a spot to click on when you forget something. She clicked on it, filled out her e-mail address and then submitted it. "Okay! Now you will have to go check your e-mail and find the password to use. It's that simple!"

Marisa did just that, and all was well as she entered the contest site to check her latest rating.

"Crying doesn't solve problems, but using your head like a grown up person does," I reminded her. "I'm not a baby!" Marisa said. "No? Then why did you cry and tantrum the way you did?" I asked her. "Next time stay calm and ask for help. That's what grown-ups do," I said. "I'll remember ... I'm grown-up," she replied as she clicked through the list of contestants to find herself among them.