Summer Kinard's Blog, page 2

The Best Welcome

Accessbility means best practices for everyone.

If I got to talk with you at the 47th Clergy-Laity Congress, I’m so glad you stopped by my site! This post has the slides and handouts from my part of the Fully Human Ministry panel. Please continue the conversation in the comments!

The grace of God that enters the soul when we go to the Divine Liturgy will always be sufficient no matter our disability, because we cannot have only a little bit of God.

Summer kinard, Of such is the kingdom: A Practical theology of disability

The Church is an iconic community because we look like God when we love one another and humbly make room for all members of the Body in our worship, learning, service, and fellowship.

Summer Kinard, Of Such is the kingdom: A practical theology of disability

Accessibility-in-Liturgy-1Download

You can find a free printable version of the visual schedule HERE, or check out the Park End Books shop for prepared copies.

Like our churches, our classrooms and teaching patterns can reflect the pattern of God as a place where God’s mercy makes us at home.

Summer Kinard, Of Such is the kingdom: A practical theology of disability

Accessible-Church-School-Best-PracticesDownload

Need the link to a classpack of Model Magic? Use this one from my Amazon Affiliate account, and support my work at no cost to you.

Thank you for stopping by! If you need to reach me, my email address is summerkinard at gmail dot com, or use the comment form on the About Me page, which will reach me at that address.

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Communicating with Autistic Teens

Teenagers are wonderful humans, and getting to know our children while they’re undergoing such gigantic expansions of consciousness is beautiful, joyous work. That doesn’t mean that it is always easy. Though each [autistic] person is different, I have found the following methods to be helpful in communicating with autistic teens. Read, and please add to the list in the comments so that we parents can learn together!

Walk alongside them when you want to connect. This can be through hiking (mild walks along greenways count!) or while swimming in a lake or going to the grocery store together. They might not talk a lot, but the relaxation and focus of a common task can make it easier to feel emotional clarity and coordination of mental faculties. I think it’s especially helpful to be outside under trees, but my family members all love trees a great deal, so I can’t be sure that this is universal. Generally speaking, a quiet walk by a river under trees will make us feel connected, whether words are spoken or not.Play music together, or listen when they play. Sometimes this will mean going to the guitar store with a teen or two so they can try instruments. Sometimes it’s singing harmonies around the table or sharing hymns at evening prayer. Music is profoundly regulating. Make sure your teens have a way to listen to it and to make music.Accept and acknowledge echolalia and non-speech sounds as communication. You can learn more about Gestalt Language Processing at Meaningful Speech. Lots and lots of autistic people go through phases where they don’t use spoken language in a typical manner. It’s still communication. Knowing that it IS communication will help you to feel calmer and to search out the tools you need to become a good communication partner for your child.My experience is that growth spurts will almost always lead to a communication challenge, either due to sudden extreme sensory needs (moodiness, reclusiveness, going silent(er), being unable to express or recognize hunger and thirst, needing time outdoors but not knowing how to say, requiring stong sensory input but having trouble asking, etc.) or exhaustion or the sudden expansion of consciousness that is way more disorienting for autistic kids since they don’t shed synapses. Remember that our kids are just getting everything piled on, complexity on complexity, and be patient with them. I find it helpful to support their growth spurts by serving them food and drink and outdoor time at the same level that I would have done when they were toddlers. I mean, when I see that they are having a growth spurt, I will literally put a meal on a tray and take it to them or load everyone in the car to go to a natural area so they can regulate even when their executive function/self regulation/interoception is temporarily overloaded. Make numbered lists through text messages or on whiteboards or in notebooks, and write each other back in numbered lists. For instance, if a teen writes, “1. I was wondering when we could go to the shoe store. 2. I have a spot on my arm that keeps itching but I don’t know how to describe it.” you might write back, “1. Let’s go on Wednesday at 4pm. 2. The eczema lotion is by the kitchen sink.” When our 9 senses (touch, taste, smell, sight, hearing, vestibular, proprioceptive, kinesthetic, and interoceptive) are regulated, we can communicate more easily. Give your teens the tools they need to fill their sensory needs, like in-room yoga swings on frames, mini or large trampolines, swimming times, hiking with backpacks, a crash pad, weighted blankets, indirect warm lighting (not overhead that points down), twinkle lights, reading nooks, noise reducing earmuffs, access to musical instruments, library time, calisthenics, foods with a variety of textures that they like (crunchy, chewy, etc.). The cookbook Color Taste Texture by Matthew Broberg-Moffitt might help (amazon affiliate link). If your teen can’t put what they’re thinking or feeling into words, encourage them to communicate what they CAN put into words, either with lists, spoken words, speech output devices or apps, or a paper communication board like this one (link opens PDF). If they can sing a song or hum a tune about their feelings, that works, too. All communication is good. Don’t pressure them to speak. Give them access to other options for communicating.We like to use the ProLoQuo2Go (with visual language) or Proloquo4Text apps as speech output options, because we can use them from my phone and from the children’s ipads. Teens can choose their own voices from a among a long list to represent them (or just because they find one more pleasant to hear). If your teen is not able to read and needs a higher level of language/communication supports, I recommend consulting a speech therapist skilled with AAC (Augmentative and Alternative Communication) techniques that they can scale to your teen’s motor abilities. Full language systems that use LAMP (Language Acquisition through Motor Planning) are highly effective at building communication for just about everyone, especially if you stick with it for two years so the alternative language modeling has a chance to set in. In my experience, even autistic young adults who were introduced to AAC as teens have been able to communicate well with AAC within a couple of years. If you don’t have access to specialists and are low on funds, don’t despair! Parent led intervention is one of the proven Evidence Based Practices for helping autistic people function! Check out the free Core Vocabulary resources at PROJECT CORE , and read the instructions there. If you can find a local autism parent who has used AAC (through a Facebook group, for instance) or watch some YouTube videos, or IG reels or TikToks showing you how to use them, you will be able with consistent modeling (pointing at the language board as you speak slowly and clearly, starting with one or two words) to build communication with your teen. Non-speaking teens still need affection and expressions of love. Don’t let your own feelings of confusion or doubt about the parenting that you did not expect block you from having fun with your teen. Find what makes them smile, relax, or laugh, and do that for 15 minutes twice a day (or more, but this goal has data behind it that says it makes a big difference at that level). Try to go for walks with them, swing on swings, rock in rocking chairs, play tongue drums together at the table (maybe with noise blocking headphones), swim, sing, cook, draw, watch something funny, read their favorite book aloud to them, or whatever else builds your connection. Take care of yourself by getting the sensory regulation you need, the mental healthcare you need, and the adult connections you need. Keep up your spiritual care for yourself, as well as soul-building and restorative habits. If you need walks or writing or reading time, give them to yourself. If you don’t take care of yourself, you might resent your family or start to despair because of self-abandonment. Don’t abandon yourself. You love your child, and you deserve love, too. Autistic teens probably have a deep interest or two that they will want to talk about a lot. Enjoy this. Let them tell you the thing they love. You can pause it by being very direct, as in, “I love seeing how much joy you have in this. I also need to pause to have a mental break to regulate myself. You can keep talking/playing/writing, but I need to use my attention for something else for an hour.” Look, they aren’t going to stop loving guitars or Lord of the Rings or trees or archery or baseball or horses or whatever they love, just because you have to go scroll IG on the toilet or listen to classical music while you make dinner. It’s cool. Just make the deep interest a normal, welcome part of life, and set limits that you need. Speaking of deep interests, do some fun stuff with your teens around their deep interest. Go with them to that Taylor Swift concert or to visit the tree species they love, or give them archery lessons or let them cosplay. You don’t have to embrace the deep interest to the same degree, but enjoying them enjoying life by playing alongside them can mean a lot. For Christian education needs, try the methods I lay out alongside photos and floorplans in my book Accessible Church School (amazon affiliate link). Communicating the faith is much more effective when you teach through space. Last one, though it might seem weird: teach them cursive. This will make the list-making feel more private, and it’s easier for dyslexics to read. Cursive connects letters and somehow also synapses. If you and your teen are able to write by hand, try a handwriting book like the ones from Handwriting Without Tears (amazon affiliate link) to teach them this life skill.

What would you add? How do you communicate best with your autistic teen?

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Stomp the Snake: The Prayer of St. Ephraim for Sunday School

Teaching the Prayer of St. Ephraim this Lent

It’s almost Lent, that time of year when we are called to slow down and focus on growing closer to Christ. That means we Orthodox Christians will be praying the Prayer of St. Ephraim rather a lot. The prayer itself models repentance from the kinds of bad habits that cause a lot of problems, but it can be difficult to help children figure out where those big, general ideas manifest in their own lives. My favorite way to teach this prayer is to write the sins on a bubble wrap snake and have the students stomp on it after each prayer. This routine gives students a chance to experience what it’s like to imitate our Holy Mother of God in stepping on the serpent. By showing the group how we work together to overcome our tendencies to sin, with the help of God and His Mother, we get a greater depth of understanding.

Students look forward to this accessible prayer routine each Lent. Watch the video below for the full demonstration.

O Lord and Master of my life!

Take from me the spirit of sloth,
faint-heartedness, lust of power, and idle talk.

But give rather the spirit of chastity,
humility, patience, and love to Thy servant.

Yea, Lord and King! Grant me to see my own errors
and not to judge my brother,
for Thou art blessed unto ages of ages. Amen.

The Lenten Prayer of St. Ephraim the Syrian (GOARCH)

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We Give Each Other Crowns

Last summer and early autumn, I traveled to give several workshops and talks. I was teaching people about Accessible Church School (aff. link to the book), the model of teaching the faith that sticks best for everyone and has the benefit of including people with disabilities, too. One of my favorite parts of in-person presentations is that I can demonstrate the patterns and ideas that I teach in my books and writings. You might read right past my recommendation to use enhanced dress up props for all ages of Sunday school, or you might even dismiss it because you think it sounds too fun or childish for serious teens to learn. You might not trust me when I say that all long-term memory is based on gross motor neuron coupling and music and fun. But when you SEE it happen in front of you, you will get it. Oh! You’ll think. I never thought teaching and learning could be like this.

One of my favorite teaching moments last year was at a workshop with an amazing group of teachers near Chicago. One of the women present was a venerable mother and grandmother of the church who spoke little English but whose patron and name saint was our Panagia (the Holy Virgin Mary, Mother of God). When we got to the part about adding beautiful props for teaching saints’ lives so that girls as well as boys could look like the icons we venerate, I revealed a beautiful queen crown to show what I meant. I asked if anyone was named after Mother Mary, and everyone nodded towards the venerable lady. She consented to try on the crown. At that exact moment, sunlight flooded the room and lighted her. With her silver hair and the God-honoring crown, she WAS an icon. We were all struck speechless by the beauty for a moment. I could have said a million ways that we are living icons, but when that venerable grandmother consented at her daughter’s urging to try on the crown to help teach us, and God lit her with sunlight, everyone understood perfectly. To imitate the saints is all of our goal. When we teach, we honor them by showing the students that they, too, are living icons.

Add This Pattern to Your Church School

If you would like to add a beautiful sensory anchor to help your students remember the saints this winter and early spring, here are some good options (Amazon Affiliate Links provided for your convenience):

Queen Crowns to honor Our Lady (at the Annunciation), which you can reuse when you teach about St. Katherine, St. Barbara, St. Nino, and other holy women saints who wear crowns in their icons. King Crowns work great for Emperor and King Saints, too!

Blue cloak for St. Brigid, which you can reuse for many other female saints, who are often honored with blue garments.

Shepherd staff and toy sheep for acting out the life of St. Patrick (I like to hide a sheep or two up high to surprise the students; sometimes I have even used masking tape to place them high on a wall to show that sometimes sheep REALLY go astray.) You can also use these to act out Jesus’ Parables and the Old Testament story of Jacob and Laban.

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Raised by dogs?

When I was a little forest child wandering through the countryside for as long as physically possible every day, my faithful companion was my part chow, part collie dog, Bear. He was such a big part of my life that for a while I joked that I was raised by wolves. No matter how far I wandered, Bear would always come when I called him. He shaped my heart, and because of that, he shaped my faith.

In a couple of weeks, we at Park End Books are going to be receiving two big pallets of board books that share that faith. Others who love dogs and love God will love this book, too. Come, Stay, Fetch: The Gospel According to Dogs (written by yours truly, Illustrated by Kathryn Tussing) tells the Gospel story through simple dog commands illustrated in a color spectrum that dogs can see. But what’s most beautiful about it is how it invites you into the story. Take a look at this Origin story from the Park End Books YouTube channel:

If you love dogs and Jesus, this book should be on your holiday wish list!

Let me know in the comments if you have a favorite dog story that reminds you of faith, hope, and love!

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On sacred writing

The slyest shift in perspective is to move from participating in life to talking about it from a remove. That kind of dissociation is easy when our conversations stretch over long distances and through media other than direct presence. Dissociation gets into our God talk, too, if we forget that God is always with us. What else is always with us?

            Our loves, our memories, the breath in our bodies, the patterns of who I am when I am with you or in a place. I am changed by the places I have walked. I have the forest in my mind long after its dust is washed from my feet and its sweet leaf mold scent from my hair. To address the truth, I have to participate in it. I have to be the person who stands in incense in church, the one who weeps before the presence of God, the one who sets up the paints in her classroom, the one who refills the soap dispensers by all the sinks and who folds the clothes to tuck into closets and drawers. Writing is a recollection. It’s gathering all of me together to talk with every person and place I have encountered, to tell the truth together with you and them. Most of all writing is a conversation with God who is with us.

            I get angry sometimes for stupid, selfish reasons, like wanting to go too fast on the highway while someone is driving more slowly. But lately I have had that other kind of anger, the one that’s warning rather than selfishness. The warning anger alerts me to the malign patterns in how we talk about God online. Where is the recollection and ingathering and sanctifying of one another? Where is the glory of God?

            I don’t see it in perfectionist posts that seek to control others through shame or exclusion. There is a trend in American religious discourse towards belittling women as though that could go any way at all towards mending the world (it doesn’t). Shining up the images of subservience doesn’t make them iconic. The march of holy abbesses, martyrs, queens, virgins, deaconesses, prophetesses, apostles along the walls of the cathedral of my mind and heart keep me from falling into the lies about women that authoritarians try to pass off as holy. Authoritarianism has no place for the Mother of God; she is not honored by belittling women or trying to reduce womanhood to roles instead of the sacred dignity that God endued us with when He made us to be women in His image.

            In theology we have a way of talking about how people become like God. We hold the truth that God became human so that humans can become God. This happens through participation in God through prayers, sacraments, and imitation of Christ and His Saints in practicing virtues. The reason why is called communicatio idiomatum, or the communication, the sharing, of characteristics. We take on God’s character when we participate in God, the way iron takes on the heat of the fire, until every part of the iron is glowing hot. While still iron, it is also filled with heat. While still human, we are filled with God, with the love of God. So, we become like God.

            But someone once was so close to God, so fully participating in God and loving totally God and her neighbors as herself, that God became like her. She is more honored than the cherubim and more glorious beyond compare than the seraphim. (Cherubim and seraphim are glorious ranks of angels that are in God’s presence, aflame with the love of God by their closeness.) From this woman who was totally filled with God’s love, God took flesh and became incarnate. She is our most holy Theotokos, the Mother of God, the Virgin Mary.

            I cannot write about faith as a woman without telling you that she is the highest theologian, the one who truly knows God. Moses climbed the mountain to see a glimpse of God, but she held God in her womb. She was the burning bush that Moses saw.

            What’s missing from influencer culture and every discourse that falls into the distance between our embodying conversation with God, is this honoring of God’s Mother. If you want to learn to be a good man or a good woman, you don’t need a high control celebrity fundamentalism. You need to seek the one who can actually show you the way to salvation, because her participation in God opened the way of salvation for all of us.

            Here is a challenge: Every time you find yourself feeling inadequate because of an influencer post or feeling angry because of a polemic post, pause and read the first two chapters of the Gospel of Luke. There you will see the highest born man besides Christ, John the Forerunner and Baptist, and the most blessed among women, Mary the Holy Mother of God. If you don’t have time to read, look at their holy icons. Ask them to show you how to be in this world, with everything you are, so that with them you can bring all your heart, soul, mind, and strength to God in love, and with yourself, to love your neighbors. They love you so much: there for you in your real world as you lean on the counter with its few spilled grains of sugar or salt, in the ache and stink of your tired feet in their workboots, in the exhaustion that attends early parenting, in the satisfaction at the end of a good story.

            We can learn to tell stories that are true and free, that shine with the character of God, with the light of God lighting our little iron lives. Listen to yourself. Listen for God. Listen for the Mother of God. Ask St. John the Forerunner to help you prepare the way to recollection in your life. Then, writing can be a kind of prayer, a conversation around a table to which everyone is called.  

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Look Up for Joy

One thing I hate about the internet is the flattening of affect. At home, I’m funny. Like so hilarious that my kids stay up later and later if I’m busy, just so I can joke with them. I do voices in all the books we read, and if there’s a passage that’s a bit too bland or too serious or if the child is anxious, I add a silly voice or mispronounce a word on purpose to make them laugh. I can and do engage in dance-offs and spontaneous sung odes on the regular. Part of my daily life is humor. Humor is mundane here.

            Laughing with people heals them. My kids need me for autism intervention not in some formal or boring way, but as a person who loves them and can make them laugh. If I laugh with them, they are going to be okay. They will learn everything in the joy that we share.

            One of my favorite things about preparing Christian ed materials and classrooms is that I get to set up moments of joy and connection. I love helping people connect, to set aside the bad habit of mistaking intentional dullness for reverence, and encouraging joyful and playful engagement with God in learning. Accessible Church School is a dull name for a fun pattern. Building a cave in the classroom is fun. Painting eyes is fun. And it’s only these hands-on, gross motor, whole body and alongside learning practices that teach us anything lasting. A cave we build to learn about a cave dweller or a cavern nativity or a burial cave is a cave of memory and truth. The eyes we paint with their irises and pupils touching the top lid reminds us of the universal humility and love of God and all His holy ones. The eyes are always looking up at us, the way we look up at little children when we teach them, from below, as servants. The God who made everything, the eyes that see everything, look up to us from below, and those hands that formed our clay reach up and touch our faces.

            At night after the stories and the laughter, I take a turn about the house to pray for each person and to make the sign of the cross over them (or outside their doors). It’s 1am, and I ask the saints to pray for them and pray for all of us to Christ our God that we may be saved. But I also beg them to help me reach them and love them better. This is how it’s answered: My mouth is filled with laughter, my playful heart pours out myrrh and gladness to lift them up with joy. It’s the joy of the Lord that’s our strength.

            My dog can sense this mood even when I don’t. Sometimes he leaps around in puppy play when all I’m doing is praying, like he knows that prayer is playing, too. I don’t think of myself playing at prayer, but maybe that’s how it seems to wiser creatures like my dog; to him maybe I’m a little kid wearing my mother’s shoes, her slip on my head, the prayer book too big for me. I think he sees, though, that prayer is a joy like playing. There’s healing in it that makes me not alone, that looks up to me and shows me who I am and in whose company.

            There’s a moment in playing when the ancient fear of being alone releases. We know ourselves to be a part of a group, to not be alone. St. Augustine called this our social nature. He said that all of our evils are due to a twisting and corruption and misdirection of our basically social nature into attempts to dominate each other and to make others serve us. But we aren’t supposed to have mastery over each other. We are supposed to enjoy each other because God made us for that kind of love. When we have love for God and each other, our real freedom starts to show up right here in the midst of broken social systems. There’s no mastery in kneeling and looking up to a child so they can hear you. But you will only see such an action in someone who has mastered herself, someone who has the lay of the land enough to know that love and joy are the real treasure and goals here.

            Maybe I will be brave enough to be myself everywhere, to generalize my humor in the whole world. But in the meantime, I’m going to keep making my children laugh. There’s nothing better for their hearts or mine.

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A Turn in the Forest

When I was a little girl, about 9 years old, I would make peace with stress by thinking of the worst case scenario. I loved to walk in the woods, woods that held dangerous snakes, steep banks, scorpions, venomous spiders, wolves, coyotes, wild boars, hunters. They also had quiet and peace, and to my eyes, the possibility of tracking deer to their beds, of counting the indentations of their warm bodies in pine straw. There were so many birds that I could fill an art supply store with their colors. When I would get sad or stressed, I would think of lying down under those tall pines and sycamores, right in the bed of pine straw where the deer slept, and I could sleep there forever, fading into the ground and resting in the forest until I was woken on the last day. I didn’t wish for death, but I didn’t fear it.

            It’s such an old habit for me that I didn’t question it. I know I had it by age nine, but I wasn’t afraid when I was five, either. Then the peace of it wasn’t wrapped in my own decay, but in my comfort with old places and old people. Some places and people could be restored, and some could be bidden farewell with grace.

            When I became an Orthodox Christian nine and a half years ago, one of the familiar aspects was its comfort with death. There’s a mourning culture that holds people in love even while they’re asleep, and there’s a recognition that death has been conquered. There is a tree that we don’t sleep under but whose fruit revives us, slowly over ages of ages, until we breathe in fire and exhale healing and fill every pore with love, of the tiny birds, of the pine straw, of broken skin and hurt bones and faces whose eyes are beyond crying. My habit of remembering death since I was a little girl seemed to fit seamlessly into the rest of the faith. I was familiar with death as someone who has already died and been raised. I know it’s never far away and also that I have more to do if I am granted another breath. But my thoughts of lasting peace have changed.

            Where I used to daydream of sleeping under trees, now I am not afraid of any kind of death. I think about knowing my own ending. Would that I could swallow incense first if I were to be burned. Would that I could be filled with seeds if I were to buried. If I were to lie where I fell, I hope I would be colonized by bees, so that my skeleton could host a hive where my heart once beat, a nursery of bees behind my eyes. I would wish that my death were healing, because I want my life to be that way. I want to be a myrrh-bearer, tending not only the dead and dying but bringing what’s suitable for gratitude, generosity, teaching, prayers.

            I like to donate incense and candles to the church. When I smell them burning in the prayer services, I remember who I am along with who God is. We are wrapped up together in this world, a girl who knew God was there all along, and a God who doesn’t leave us. To not be abandoned, no matter what. What adamantium grace! My fierce little heart saw it before I could name it, the lovingkindness and mercy that endures forever.

            I am clinging to that Lovingkind God now as I face down my trauma and begin planning to move north towards a cool green forest where I and my husband and children can walk. We have a big move on the horizon. I miss the woods, and it’s too hot where we live. But in the meantime, I have been walking metaphorically through the forest of damage that I have kept like a hoard in my heart. I have an eating disorder, and I have been in treatment with a counsellor-nutritionist for a couple of months, undoing damage and learning to eat. If you know how fat I am in person, you might make an assumption about me. It’s probably wrong. I was starving myself for years. That’s what I’m undoing. After growing up in neglect, I internalized the idea that I didn’t deserve to eat. Ironically the only time I got close to adequate nutrition was when I was put on diets by people who assumed (falsely) that I was a glutton. I had a slow metabolism because I have a brave and fiery soul that wouldn’t let me die. My body is braver than hell, making space for me literally when I was told to disappear.

            I have had so many horrible things said to me about myself, and I have said horrific things to myself about myself. Like the disciples, I erred, not knowing the manner of Spirit I was of, for the Son of man is come not to destroy our lives but to save them. And now, walking again towards a forest, this one that I will have to strive for, I am casting off the lies and too-heavy burdens I accepted for myself.  I was told to diminish, diminish, when God was saying, Shine, Shine. My body was breaking under the strain. My mind was divided between a blazing grace and a cowering obsession with trying to please the people who hated me. All the while, there was a child mind in me that refused to back down or to let go of the hand that walked me through woods unafraid. Brave girl, faithful girl, you have won.

            Whether I die one day and turn to incense or dirt or bees, I am not going to die following the rules of tyrants who want to shrink me and starve me. There’s plenty to eat in a forest, plenty of food on the trees God tends.

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Church Bag Refresh: Older Kids and Teens Edition

My older autistic child needs to wiggle and gets overwhelmed in church! Do you have any advice? I’m glad you asked! Take a look at this video I made for you, and let’s continue the conversation in the comments! Tips for Helping Older Autistic Kids & Teens Stay in Church

You can find my book, Of Such is the Kingdom: A Practical Theology of Disability at the Ancient Faith Store or Amazon (affiliate link).

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A Song of Four Saints Who Were Friends

Remember when I shared the post about Saint Brigid last year? Well, the song is now finished! I”m gathering together skits, activities, an all-ages field day lesson, and a VCS pattern to go with the song. I hope to have that packet of resources out to y’all later this spring, but in the meantime, enjoy this song about four of our wonderful Celtic Christian saints who were friends! Sing this song to the tune of The Skye Boat Song. Don’t forget to follow so you see my other free resources!

WesternSaintsHymn_webDownload

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