06-13-2006, 12:33 PM
School has colorful approach to teaching autistic children
BY ALLISON KENNEDY
Knight Ridder Newspapers
Color. It's the key to expanding the world of students at Bridges Learning Center. From area rugs to walls, to the fish tank to the lava lamp in a room where students go to relax, colorful surroundings are making the world bloom for 12 Columbus, Ga.-area children and teens who have autism. Some believe that bland surroundings keep autism's symptoms at bay, that stimulation of any kind can cause an emotional outburst.
But that's not the case at this new center that offers focused attention, and where all the senses are exercised. "We pile it on," said director Bardie Badie.
Touch. Sight. Sound. They hit you when you walk in the door and as you explore the classrooms. Bridges, which recently had an open house and received its non-profit status this spring, operates on the assumption that autism doesn't have to be a roadblock to learning and, eventually, to holding a job.
On a recent morning, 10-year-old Lawson Badie - Bardie's son - designed a city on a computer with a keyboard, while across the room Laura Garland went through a numbers drill with her autistic brother Chris, 15. She gave him a high-five when he answered correctly.
In another classroom, 4-year-old Kamryn Franklin, who has developed her own private language, gave the sound of the animal when her teacher pointed to its picture on a card. Kamryn also worked on her spelling.
Bridges is the only school of its kind in this area. At $160 per week, the cost is comparable to day-care. In addition to the regular school, there's an after-school program. The school's teachers, board and volunteers operate under the assumption their students will return to other schools; the students simply need individualized attention. Bridges is supported by donations.
Mainly because they have a son with autism, Bardie Badie and her husband Rem, who runs his own construction company, took the plunge into starting the school last August. Lawson was diagnosed five years ago with autism, a complex disorder believed to be related to the brain's wiring. Like many diseases and disorders, autistic sufferers cover a spectrum, from profound disability to milder forms such as Asperger's syndrome in which the intellectual capacity is there but not the social skills; nuance and facial skills are commonly missed.
One in 166 children has some form of autism, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. Autism strikes mostly males; only one out of every five of those diagnosed is female.
From the autistic person's perspective, the condition means focusing on details rather than the big picture, such as the movement of a person's mouth, rather than the words. Or reciting back every word spoken in a room. (Think Dustin Hoffman's character in "Rain Man.") Or hitting one's head against a wall to calm oneself down. Genetic and environmental factors both are considered causes. Though she has no functioning speech, college student Sue Rubin of California wrote the narration for the Oscar-winning film about her life, "Autism Is a World." Her world is filled with communication mainly through writing, which has opened up engagement with people she never had before.
California neuroscientist Michael Merzenich worked with a severely autistic child who is able to write poetry. Comparing this condition to someone trapped in a well, the doctor, in a recent Time magazine article, wondered how many others "are living in a well where no one can hear them?"
"He was having a hard time in Muscogee County (Ga.)," Badie said of her son Lawson. "He needed extra care, but the teacher had 12 other children to look after." She doesn't fault school systems, but knows the reality that autistic children need more attention and supervision. The closest school that could help Lawson is in Auburn. The Badies also located one in Arkansas, but it costs $160,000 a year.
Bardie Badie homeschooled Lawson for two years. "He can't read or write, but he can draw New York or the Titanic. They just learn differently."
Lawson also has a "service dog," named Cocoa, who senses when Lawson's getting agitated and comes to his aid. Cocoa, a former rescue animal, helps calm him down.
"We want to teach them that they are responsible for their actions," Badie said of the students. "If they get frustrated, they can calm themselves down." At Bridges, a place to relax is called the Sensory Room, which is a dark and cool space with soothing and colorful sights and sounds. It has black leather easy chairs where a child can relax and focus, if he or she becomes agitated.
Another tool used to calm an overly excited child: A scrub brush applied gently to the arm. Teacher Marianne Jordan demonstrated.
Tony Wise teaches the children who are 11 and older. Wise likes the challenge each student at Bridges brings.
"This is a whole population there's not much information about," Wise said. "It's not easy because they're all individuals. But it's fascinating to me."
Another teacher at the school is Beverly Garland, Chris and Laura's mom. Chris also has a twin brother, Richard Adam Garland, who is not autistic. "At some point, he has to wonder why it was Chris and not him," Beverly said.
Beverly taught 26 years in Muscogee County, Ga. She met Bardie Badie at a summer camp for autistic children and the two hit it off, then Badie told her she was opening Bridges. "These kids need a place where they're accepted, loved and taught," said Garland, who on a recent morning held a private teaching session with 3-year-old Aidan Miller.
Aidan isn't verbal but is very bright, Garland said. "We use a lot of repetition and trial and error," said Garland, as the red-headed Aidan sat patiently next to her for his lesson. "My goal is, I want this child to speak. I want words to come and be in a Kindergarten where he won't be ignored. I don't want them to stay here, so they can go be with their peers."
At Bridges, siblings can come to the school for free, as is the case with Laura who helps Chris. The building has a coded door so the children can't wander outside unsupervised.
Autism, these folks have found, is a family affair. "It's not just the child and the parents," Beverly Garland said. "It's grandparents and siblings. It's the whole family."
That has been true for a central Florida couple, Allan and Tricia Beeber, who visit Columbus regularly because Tricia's parents live here. One of their children, Daniel Beeber, is autistic. The Beebers now take him to Bridges when they're in town.
"Tricia and I know of no other place in all of central Florida comparable to the Bridges Learning Center in Columbus," Allan Beeber said by e-mail. "It is wonderful to have a place where we can bring our son for several hours where we know he is not only safe, but well taken care of and gently stretched to develop in several mental areas."
BY ALLISON KENNEDY
Knight Ridder Newspapers
Color. It's the key to expanding the world of students at Bridges Learning Center. From area rugs to walls, to the fish tank to the lava lamp in a room where students go to relax, colorful surroundings are making the world bloom for 12 Columbus, Ga.-area children and teens who have autism. Some believe that bland surroundings keep autism's symptoms at bay, that stimulation of any kind can cause an emotional outburst.
But that's not the case at this new center that offers focused attention, and where all the senses are exercised. "We pile it on," said director Bardie Badie.
Touch. Sight. Sound. They hit you when you walk in the door and as you explore the classrooms. Bridges, which recently had an open house and received its non-profit status this spring, operates on the assumption that autism doesn't have to be a roadblock to learning and, eventually, to holding a job.
On a recent morning, 10-year-old Lawson Badie - Bardie's son - designed a city on a computer with a keyboard, while across the room Laura Garland went through a numbers drill with her autistic brother Chris, 15. She gave him a high-five when he answered correctly.
In another classroom, 4-year-old Kamryn Franklin, who has developed her own private language, gave the sound of the animal when her teacher pointed to its picture on a card. Kamryn also worked on her spelling.
Bridges is the only school of its kind in this area. At $160 per week, the cost is comparable to day-care. In addition to the regular school, there's an after-school program. The school's teachers, board and volunteers operate under the assumption their students will return to other schools; the students simply need individualized attention. Bridges is supported by donations.
Mainly because they have a son with autism, Bardie Badie and her husband Rem, who runs his own construction company, took the plunge into starting the school last August. Lawson was diagnosed five years ago with autism, a complex disorder believed to be related to the brain's wiring. Like many diseases and disorders, autistic sufferers cover a spectrum, from profound disability to milder forms such as Asperger's syndrome in which the intellectual capacity is there but not the social skills; nuance and facial skills are commonly missed.
One in 166 children has some form of autism, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. Autism strikes mostly males; only one out of every five of those diagnosed is female.
From the autistic person's perspective, the condition means focusing on details rather than the big picture, such as the movement of a person's mouth, rather than the words. Or reciting back every word spoken in a room. (Think Dustin Hoffman's character in "Rain Man.") Or hitting one's head against a wall to calm oneself down. Genetic and environmental factors both are considered causes. Though she has no functioning speech, college student Sue Rubin of California wrote the narration for the Oscar-winning film about her life, "Autism Is a World." Her world is filled with communication mainly through writing, which has opened up engagement with people she never had before.
California neuroscientist Michael Merzenich worked with a severely autistic child who is able to write poetry. Comparing this condition to someone trapped in a well, the doctor, in a recent Time magazine article, wondered how many others "are living in a well where no one can hear them?"
"He was having a hard time in Muscogee County (Ga.)," Badie said of her son Lawson. "He needed extra care, but the teacher had 12 other children to look after." She doesn't fault school systems, but knows the reality that autistic children need more attention and supervision. The closest school that could help Lawson is in Auburn. The Badies also located one in Arkansas, but it costs $160,000 a year.
Bardie Badie homeschooled Lawson for two years. "He can't read or write, but he can draw New York or the Titanic. They just learn differently."
Lawson also has a "service dog," named Cocoa, who senses when Lawson's getting agitated and comes to his aid. Cocoa, a former rescue animal, helps calm him down.
"We want to teach them that they are responsible for their actions," Badie said of the students. "If they get frustrated, they can calm themselves down." At Bridges, a place to relax is called the Sensory Room, which is a dark and cool space with soothing and colorful sights and sounds. It has black leather easy chairs where a child can relax and focus, if he or she becomes agitated.
Another tool used to calm an overly excited child: A scrub brush applied gently to the arm. Teacher Marianne Jordan demonstrated.
Tony Wise teaches the children who are 11 and older. Wise likes the challenge each student at Bridges brings.
"This is a whole population there's not much information about," Wise said. "It's not easy because they're all individuals. But it's fascinating to me."
Another teacher at the school is Beverly Garland, Chris and Laura's mom. Chris also has a twin brother, Richard Adam Garland, who is not autistic. "At some point, he has to wonder why it was Chris and not him," Beverly said.
Beverly taught 26 years in Muscogee County, Ga. She met Bardie Badie at a summer camp for autistic children and the two hit it off, then Badie told her she was opening Bridges. "These kids need a place where they're accepted, loved and taught," said Garland, who on a recent morning held a private teaching session with 3-year-old Aidan Miller.
Aidan isn't verbal but is very bright, Garland said. "We use a lot of repetition and trial and error," said Garland, as the red-headed Aidan sat patiently next to her for his lesson. "My goal is, I want this child to speak. I want words to come and be in a Kindergarten where he won't be ignored. I don't want them to stay here, so they can go be with their peers."
At Bridges, siblings can come to the school for free, as is the case with Laura who helps Chris. The building has a coded door so the children can't wander outside unsupervised.
Autism, these folks have found, is a family affair. "It's not just the child and the parents," Beverly Garland said. "It's grandparents and siblings. It's the whole family."
That has been true for a central Florida couple, Allan and Tricia Beeber, who visit Columbus regularly because Tricia's parents live here. One of their children, Daniel Beeber, is autistic. The Beebers now take him to Bridges when they're in town.
"Tricia and I know of no other place in all of central Florida comparable to the Bridges Learning Center in Columbus," Allan Beeber said by e-mail. "It is wonderful to have a place where we can bring our son for several hours where we know he is not only safe, but well taken care of and gently stretched to develop in several mental areas."