PookyH

𝗠𝗼𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗿𝗼𝗽𝗶𝘀𝗺 𝗺𝗲𝗮𝗻𝘀 𝗽𝗼𝘂𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗻𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗹𝘆 𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗮𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗼 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗮𝘁 𝗮 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲.

It's a theory of autism developed by autistic researchers and it's the best explanation I've come across for why we are the way we are, though plenty of ADHDers recognise themselves in it too. Anybody can get absorbed now and again. The difference is that for monotropic people this is how attention works all the time, rather than something that happens occasionally.

Most brains spread attention thinly across a few things at once. A monotropic brain sends almost all of it down a single tunnel instead, and that tunnel runs remarkably deep. Whilst somebody is inside it, whatever sits outside gets much harder to reach, so your voice isn't being ignored, it's arriving somewhere that's already full.

Coming out of one tunnel and getting into another costs something every time, which is why somebody can be fine at nine and completely done by eleven, having done nothing anyone would call difficult.

𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗵𝗲𝗹𝗽 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝘀𝗺𝗮𝗹𝗹𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂'𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗸:
• Warn before every change, so people can leave the tunnel on their own terms
• One instruction, then wait. Four at once means the last one survives, or none of them do
• Let people look away whilst they listen. The person staring at the carpet is often listening harder than the one giving you beautiful eye contact
• Leave long stretches alone. A day chopped into short bursts rarely lets anybody get far enough down the tunnel for the good stuff to happen

Getting lost in something for hours isn't a failure to pay attention. It's a monotropic brain doing exactly what it's built to do.
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Does this match your own experience, or that of someone you know or support? I'd love to hear about it in the comments.

If demand avoidance is making your summer holiday.... interesting... you might find my course helpful. It's a 45 minute pre-record full of practical ideas that's had lovely feedback.

Access it here - https://www.pookyknightsmith.com/demand-avoidance-at-home/

Free to paid patreons - info here: https://www.patreon.com/pookyh/posts/on-demand-cpd-at-165136784

Please share with anyone who might find it helpful

ON-DEMAND CPD: Demand avoidance at home (free for paid patreons) | Pooky Knightsmith It's the summer holidays here in England now, and with the structure of term gone the demands that trip a child up don't disappear, they jus

A beautiful book by my beautiful friend Sarah Sarah Siggs. It helps children with negative self talk and low self-esteem and introduces them to the five ways to wellbeing. I think you might just love it.

I listened to the first draft of Sarah’s first book whilst anxiously awaiting an appointment with a new psychiatrist many years ago when I was very poorly. Her beautiful words (and lovely reading voice!) reached me first then when I was in a deep dark place. I hope they’ll reach you now too, wherever you are.

𝗪𝗲 𝗱𝗼𝗻'𝘁 𝘀𝗮𝘆 '𝘆𝗼𝘂'𝗿𝗲 𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗲' 𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗿𝗲𝗹𝘆 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝗵𝗶𝗹𝗱'𝘀 𝘀𝗮𝗸𝗲.
We say it because a distressed child is hard to be near, and something in us wants that distress to stop, quickly, for both of us. The words come out sounding like encouragement, but underneath them is a request: please feel better, because I don't quite know what to do with you like this.

Every adult who cares about children has done it, often at the end of a long day when there's nothing left in the tank. Naming it isn't about guilt, it's about noticing the reflex so you can pause before it runs.

𝗥𝗲𝘀𝗶𝗹𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝗶𝘀 𝗯𝘂𝗶𝗹𝘁 𝘁𝗼𝗴𝗲𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿, 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗼𝗻𝗲𝗱 𝗮𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗲.
Children don't get through hard things by being talked out of the feeling. They get through them with someone alongside who can hear how bad it is without flinching. They borrow their steadiness from us long before they can produce their own, and they can only borrow it if we're still standing there when things are ugly.

𝗪𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱𝘀 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗶𝗻 𝗽𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗰𝗲

𝗧𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝘀 𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗱.
Naming it tells a child their read on the situation is right, and that you're not frightened of it.

𝗟𝗲𝘁'𝘀 𝘀𝗶𝘁 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗮 𝗺𝗶𝗻𝘂𝘁𝗲, 𝗜'𝗺 𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲.
You don't need an answer, and most of the time there isn't one. Staying put whilst it's uncomfortable is the whole intervention.

𝗬𝗼𝘂'𝗿𝗲 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗮𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀.
A struggling child usually believes they're the only one falling apart whilst everyone else copes. Being told otherwise, by someone they trust, does a lot of work.

𝗪𝗲'𝗹𝗹 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝘁𝗼𝗴𝗲𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿.
Not 'you'll be fine', which asks them to trust an outcome they can't see, but a promise you'll still be there whilst it gets figured out.

𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗾𝘂𝗶𝗲𝘁 𝗽𝗮𝘆𝗼𝗳𝗳 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗲𝘀 𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗿.
A child who believes you'll sit with the hard stuff is a child who'll tell you about the hard stuff. The child who found you steady at seven is the teenager who tells you something difficult at fifteen, because they learnt that hard things can be said out loud in your company and nothing terrible happens...

Hands up if you fell ill the moment school was out.

Every year it’s the same. My body holds it together whilst the deadlines are stacked up, and the second the last one is done and the holidays hit, it gives out completely. Usually it’s a mega migraine. This year, just to keep things interesting, my body decided gastric would be more fun.

I’m in the recovery bit now, (I even washed my hair. A medal please…) which is its own peculiar joy. I’ve read several books, which made me realise, oh, this is what people do when they’re on holiday. Except ideally without the raging stomach ache, the dizziness and the inability to stay awake for more than an hour.

If you went down with a bout of end-of-term itis too, you’re in good company, and I hope you’re coming out the other side of it so we can get on with enjoying the break.

I’ve got plans once I’m properly back on my feet. Lots of cycling and kayaking, hopefully. And a slightly chaotic one, because it looks like our house sale is going through ahead of our purchase, so I’ll be a bit nomadic for a while. An adventure, I’m telling myself. 😬

What have you got planned this summer?

Our move’s been delayed, so we’re in that strange waiting place where you can’t settle into the old thing and you can’t start the new one.

We ran away to the woods instead. A day on the river, a night under the trees, and my whole nervous system going oh, THIS is what I needed.

Home is where the heart is, and last night that was a tent.

Any fellow wild camping fans out there?

I’m thinking about putting together some ready-to-run assembly packs that you can pick up and deliver well even if it’s not your specialist subject. Before I build them, I want to hear from the people who actually run (or attend) assemblies...

If you deliver assemblies, or sit through them, what makes one genuinely useful? A few things I’m turning over:

  • How long is realistic in practice
  • Whether you want a full script or looser notes to make your own
  • Interactive elements? What? How much?
  • What’s put you off ready-made ones before
  • Whether form-time follow-up gets used or ignored

Also what makes a GREAT assembly - do you have examples to share and if I did create some what topics should be top of the list.

Teachers, tutors, senior leaders, TAs, and anyone who’s been on the receiving end, your view is welcome. Comment below or message me please.

Love, Pooky x

P.S. If you think it’s a bad idea I want to hear that too. I don’t want to waste my time!

𝗗𝗼𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗹𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗳𝗲𝗲𝗹𝘀 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗱𝗼𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴.
So when a child won't do the thing, we reach for more. Say it again. Move closer. Add a reason, then a warning, then a sharper edge to the voice. It feels like the responsible thing, like we'd be giving up if we went quiet. With an anxious child, it's the more that tips them over.

𝗙𝗼𝗿 𝗮 𝗰𝗵𝗶𝗹𝗱 𝘄𝗵𝗼𝘀𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝘅𝗶𝗲𝘁𝘆 𝗿𝘂𝗻𝘀 𝗵𝗶𝗴𝗵, 𝗯𝗲𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗶𝗻 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗿𝗼𝗹 𝗶𝘀 𝗵𝗼𝘄 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘆 𝗳𝗲𝗲𝗹 𝘀𝗮𝗳𝗲. A demand takes that control away, and being watched while they wrestle with it adds threat on top. They're reading your state before they've heard your words, scanning below the level of conscious thought for whether you're safe to be near. A tight jaw and a waiting stare register as threat, whatever kind thing you're saying over the top.

𝗦𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸 𝗶𝘀 𝘀𝘂𝗯𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻, 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗮𝗱𝗱𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻.

A few things that help:
𝗦𝗮𝘆 𝗶𝘁 𝗼𝗻𝗰𝗲, 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝘄𝗮𝗹𝗸 𝗮𝘄𝗮𝘆.
Repeating it just resets the processing they'd started and stacks a second demand on the first. Standing there waiting is its own kind of pressure.

𝗟𝗼𝘄𝗲𝗿 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝘃𝗼𝗶𝗰𝗲.
Loud reads as threat, quiet reads as calm. Drop the volume, slow the pace, and your calm becomes the thing they borrow from.

𝗗𝗼𝗻'𝘁 𝗽𝗶𝗹𝗲 𝗼𝗻.
When they're already struggling isn't the moment for 'and while you're at it'. One thing at a time, and whatever isn't essential can wait.

𝗕𝘂𝘆 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲 𝗶𝗻𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗮𝗱 𝗼𝗳 𝗽𝘂𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴.
If it genuinely has to happen, ask whether it has to happen this second. A pause lets an overloaded nervous system come back down, and a settled child can do what a flooded one can't.

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None of this lowers the bar. It lowers the threat that comes with how you ask.

Going quiet isn't giving up. It's the version of help an overloaded child can take.

Please share this if it would help someone.