“Struggles with non-preferred tasks.”

How many of us have read this sentence about our child?  How many have written this sentence about a child we work with, or had it written about you?

I heard this sentence in my son’s annual IEP (Individualized Education Plan) review meeting and am still kicking myself for not addressing how problematic, misinformed, and frankly ableist it is.

My most clever and informative responses are usually in my car after a meeting.  I have been plagued by how I should have addressed this statement for months.  

Sharing how this sentence does the child and entire team a disservice here will help me put it to bed, or at the very least, be ready with a response the next time I inevitably hear it in a meeting. 

What’s so wrong with saying an activity is “non-preferred?”  It stops the conversation.  

Saying that a child struggles with an activity simply because they don’t prefer or like it sounds like a character flaw.  The blame is placed on the child for their lack of interest or effort.  

It stops self-reflection from the educator.  Could it be that the activity doesn’t feel meaningful for the child?  What can be done to make it more engaging?  Does the child need more autonomy and choice in their day?

The curiosity and conversations these questions inspire stop when it is assumed that the child isn’t trying hard enough because it’s not an activity they “prefer.”  The focus turns to, “How do we get this kid to do this thing they don’t want to do?”  We are back at centering on compliance.  

In our case, this assumption completely overlooked that the child (my son) didn’t “prefer” the activity (writing) because of the complexities of his disabilities. 

In the United States, getting diagnosed as Autistic is a privilege.  When we were seeking testing, waitlists averaged eighteen months.   A huge children’s hospital in our area had a waiting list of over two years and eventually stopped taking more names.  They could not keep up with the families looking for help. 

Getting tested and diagnosed should not be a privilege.   

I really thought that piece of paper confirming what I already knew was going to help my child.  I thought that it was the key to getting him the services he needed.  I thought it would help others understand and support him.

What I discovered, instead, was that his diagnosis would give most of the people who read it a predetermined notion that pathologized my son.  It was confirmation for them that there was something wrong with him and that it was their job to “fix” him. 

His plans did not feel “Individualized.”  They felt like they could have been for anyone with the same diagnosis.  

“Non-preferred tasks” is a fitting example of this.

It didn’t feel like the entire picture of my son’s disabilities and challenges were being considered in regard to writing not being a “preferred activity” for him.  

Dr. Ross Greene’s quote, “Kids do well when they can,” comes to mind.  Following his model, we would instead lead with curiosity about what is “getting in the way” of his ability to write.  Are there any skills that need to be taught or unmet needs?  And more importantly, in my son’s case, “Is this a part of his disabilities that requires accommodations rather than cajoling and rewarding?” 

I could sense the amount of effort they had put into getting him to write rather than considering what was underneath the surface of why he didn’t like writing.  

My son has never been motivated by extrinsic rewards.  He made this clear when we were working on potty training.  I enthusiastically revealed our prize box, only to watch him peek in the box and return with an unimpressed look on his face as he said, “No thanks.”  

No amount of stickers or rewards will make writing easier for him, especially to the point that he “prefers it.”

When you look at his writing, you can see that it does not resemble that of his peers.  He noticed that as well.  This alone indicates that writing is a challenging skill for him.  It’s not that he doesn’t like writing, so he’s not trying hard enough; he is physically unable to write as small and fast as his peers.  

I began connecting the dots with other challenges like apraxia of speech.  This is a motor-planning difference wherein the messages his brain fires to the fine-motor muscles needed for the task are getting disrupted.  I had read that those with apraxia of speech could have difficulties with other fine-motor skills, like writing.  This made so much sense! 

That would mean that writing is a “non-preferred” activity for him because the messages from his brain to the muscles he needs to write are getting disrupted!  It’s not that he isn’t trying. It is much more difficult for him than for his peers. 

Or maybe there is another underlying challenge, like dysgraphia.

Do you see how getting curious about why writing was challenging for him inspired other possibilities and understanding?      

It is time to do away with the term “non-preferred task,” and instead, when a child is showing frustration with a task or avoiding it, get curious about the reasons behind that frustration.  Ask the child and include the entire IEP team in that conversation (which includes the parents and caregivers who know them the best).   Let’s be more curious and have less judgment when supporting children. 

Thank you to Amy Kriewaldt, Comma Queen, and Guy Stephens for their helpful editing!