Kids Master Skills by Lisa Marnell - Neuroaffirming Autism Support

Summer can be a perfect time to notice what helps an Autistic child feel curious and capable.

Sometimes this happens in very ordinary moments. A child draws the same chalk road again and again, and we begin to see how much they enjoy designing pathways. They spray water on the fence and discover how their hands feel when they squeeze the bottle. They watch bubbles move through the air before deciding whether to pop them. They arrange leaves and rocks into a pattern that makes sense to them.

These activities may look simple, but they can help children learn about themselves.

For Autistic children, this self-awareness matters. When children have opportunities to explore meaningful activities without pressure, they begin to understand what supports their regulation, confidence, and participation.

Over time, that self-understanding can lead to self-advocacy.

Type “SUMMER” for my free guide with 36 exploratory summer activities for Autistic children.

Autistic students are often described as “rigid." But that word can make us miss what is actually happening.

A child may be sitting in a loud classroom while trying to keep up with fast verbal directions, sensory input, motor demands, and the pace of the group. They may also be asked to move from one activity to another before their nervous system has had time to catch up.

When they hold tightly to what they expected, resist the next demand, or cannot shift as quickly as the adults want them to, we may be seeing overwhelm rather than "rigidity".

The child may be trying to find something predictable in an environment that feels unpredictable. This is where agency matters.

Agency does not mean that the child controls the whole classroom, and it does not mean that we let the child do whatever they want. It means we give the child a way to understand what is happening and have some meaningful access to how they move through it.

One simple accommodation is to build a bridge before transitions.

Instead of saying, “Put that away. It’s time for writing,” we can slow it down and say, “We’re going to finish math in one minute. Then we’re moving to writing." Then we stop talking for a bit. We follow up with, "Do you want to bring your notebook to the table, or do you want two quiet minutes before we start?”

That small change can matter so much because the child knows what is ending, they know what is coming next, and they have a real way to participate in the transition instead of being pushed through it.

That is not giving in. It is reducing overwhelm so the child can access the next part of the day.

Sometimes what looks like rigidity is really a nervous system asking for predictability, time, and a way forward that still protects the child’s sense of safety.

Type "SUPPORT" to download Dr. Lisa Marnell's 50 FREE Sensory Accommodations!

Autistic distress should never be accepted as just part of the school day.

When we ask what is making participation hard, we can begin to change the environment and adapt the way we teach.

That may mean reducing sensory overwhelm by lowering noise, avoiding sudden loud sounds, dimming harsh lighting, offering quieter work areas, reducing visual clutter, and allowing headphones, movement, or breaks before a child reaches distress.

It may mean increasing predictability by showing what is happening now, what is coming next, how long a task will last, and what the student can do when they need help or a pause.

It may mean adapting teaching by giving visual or written directions, modeling without pressure, allowing extra processing time, breaking tasks into smaller steps, reducing handwriting or speaking demands, and offering more than one way for the student to show what they know.

When we adapt the environment and the teaching, we stop asking Autistic students to carry a burden of tolerance.

And we create more access to learning, safety, and meaningful participation.

When an Autistic student shows little interest in pre-writing or handwriting, it is easy for adults to assume the student is avoiding, refusing, or only wants to engage in “preferred” activities.

But what if we paused and looked through a nervous system lens?

Handwriting is not just a fine motor task. It involves motor skill, motor planning, sensory processing, regulation, meaning, interest, predictability, and the student’s relationship with school-based demands.

A student who loves paint, colors, dogs, and puppies is already showing us important information.

Instead of pushing more pencil-and-paper tasks, we can ask:

What does this student enjoy?
What feels meaningful?
What motor experiences feel safe and inviting?
How can we model written output without making handwriting the only path?

This is where we consider lack of fit.

The issue is not that the student “won’t” write.

The issue may be that the task, tools, expectations, and teaching approach do not yet fit the student.

Comment “PENCIL” and I’ll send you my free video with alternative ideas for supporting handwriting without starting with a pencil.

At the end of the school year everything changes. And this can be challenging for our Autistic students.

Here you see some of the most common changes that may affect students. And I have shared some ideas for you to try to help support them.

Share in the comments if you see your Autistic students struggling at this time of year and what you do to help them get through these unstructured days.

I walked into a classroom near the end of the school year, and the whole room felt different.

Do you know the feeling that I mean? The classroom seemed partly packed up with boxes. And I know the schedule had been different that day since there had been a musical assembly for the whole school. And the teacher, who I really connected with well, looked up and saw me and looked away. I suspect she didn't want another demand on her plate!

At the end of the year, adults are TIRED and SPENT. Kids seem excited, though some may also be overwhelmed. There are class parties, extra outdoor time, special activities, and that countdown-to-summer feeling in the building.

Much of this is meant to be fun.

But “fun” school days can be some of the hardest days for Autistic students.

The student in that class I came to see was named Mark, a fourth grader.

Mark was so intelligent and loved trains, the Boston MBTA in particular, and was deeply interested in how systems worked. Looking back, I think part of what he loved about the MBTA was the structure. It had specific routes, specific stops, and even announcements about which train was coming next and when.

I only saw Mark once a week for OT, but his school team had done many things well. There were routines, visual supports, and predictable expectations. He knew where to put his backpack, when to check the schedule, and what usually happened next. His teacher made sure he could see the schedule at the front of the class and also had a personal schedule on his desk. That structure helped him access the school day.

Then the last couple weeks of school arrived, and the feeling in the building changed. None of this was meant to be hard. Much of it was meant to be fun.

But Mark struggled.

This is where school teams can get stuck. They may see more “behavior” and focus on getting the student through the activity. A better starting point would have been to notice what changed around Mark: the routine, the room, the noise level, the expectations, the social demands, and even the consistency of supports that had helped all year.

For Mark, the answer was not to push harder or assume he should be fine because the activities were supposed to be enjoyable. They were not enjoyable to him. The answer was to bring predictability back.

That shift never happened for Mark, to be honest. I think he ended the school year on a sour note, which saddens me as I look back.

But if I could be there again, I would suggest a few things.

Give him a clear preview of the day, even though the year is almost over. Tell him each day what would stay the same, what would change, and how. Allow him to participate in parts of special activities instead of expecting him to manage the whole thing.

This is my main point and hopefully a helpful takeaway: Autistic students do not stop needing supports and accommodations because the activity is supposed to be enjoyable.

They do not stop needing support because the calendar says May.