THE SACRED ART OF HEALING CHILDREN
LESSONS LEARNED
AT
BEACHBROOK

by

Joan Prideaux


copyrighted

Chapter Two

Creating Sacred Space for Everyday Living;
A Place To Be in School


Beachbrook consists of four classrooms, known as the Red, Blue, Yellow and Green Rooms. Nobody knows exactly when the rooms received these names. The rooms are not painted red, blue, yellow and green, - but their doors are. There are three teachers and nine children in each room.

Our classrooms are set up for intimate family-like living. Within these areas we want to enable children to develop feelings of belonging, meaningful, intimate loving relationships with their teachers and peers.

Each room is divided into areas where a teacher and her three children live together usually for two and a half years– the maximum length of time a child can be enrolled at school. Children may enter Beachbrook at 2.6 years of age and must graduate the year they turn five. The emphasis in our work is on the quality of life that is lived moment to moment as children learn about themselves and their world.

Young children need structure which supports inner security, safety, and sameness of context within a loving family-like environment. Such structure facilitates the highest, most integrated forms of learning – psychological, emotional, cognitive and social. Toward this end the following structure is implemented:

A Certified Head Teacher (in Special Education) and two Assistant Teachers comprise the Teaching Team. Each is equally responsible for work with three children. Each is recognized as the primary source of healing/learning in the life of a child at Beachbrook. As much as possible, children are grouped to facilitate interactive growth, (a verbal child, a non-verbal child, withdrawn, a verbal acting-out child, etc.). Teachers are assigned to children they are likely to work best with. This process always includes the teacher’s input. The Head Teacher is responsible for the overall work in the classroom and for holding her own weekly Teacher Team meetings with regard to work with individual children, team functioning, and running of the classroom. The director supervises the entire process.

Individual children, who require continuous 1:1 care are often assigned an aide, as additional support for a teacher’s work with a child.

Each child will remain in the same classroom for the length of time a child is at Beachbrook.

This continuity of teacher, sameness of room and primary area fosters rooting, feelings of belonging, trust and love, which children crave and thrive on. These ingredients, in time, generate a sense of well being in every child.

Occasionally, we are unable to maintain the sameness and continuity of structure. It becomes necessary to transfer a child to a new teacher and classroom. We arrange for a smooth transition by having the new teacher visit with the child in his classroom. The child will also be invited to visit the teacher and children in the new classroom until a readiness for change has been established. Most of our children recognize and know each other throughout our school.

When it becomes apparent that a child is missing his original teacher, the child’s experience of loss becomes an important aspect of our work with the child. The new teacher’s sensitivity, awareness and understanding of the child’s feelings are an important ingredient in developing a loving and developmentally useful relationship with her new child.

We view children’s living/learning space as sacred, attracting healing, stimulating wholeness and inspiring the fulfillment of individual possibility. In this context, the highest form of service to children’s needs occurs – loving attentiveness and watchfulness in the unfolding present centered moment. Space, known and valued, is where both teacher and child fulfill innate possibilities and actualize human potentials.

Sacred space is spiritual, but it is also soulful and down to earth. Like the lotus rising from mud, it contains and sustains life in all its varying expressions, including a child’s broken hearted rage or peaks of laughter and delight. It is where the child’s and teacher’s hearts reside. Spirit and Soul reflect the heights and depths of Being.

Within sacred space, festering emotional wounds surface. They are received empathically, expressed in deeper layers, assimilated and, in the course of time, transformed. How a child has come to view self, family, and world reveals itself through the child’s behavior, play, and expectations. Within sacred space, teachers learn from children. As living in the moment unfolds, teachers discover how best to respond to each child’s needs.

Whether engaged in art projects, or imaginative constructions with manipulatives or blocks, whether drawing, painting, printing letters, playing store, discovering new cognitive concepts or working to put puzzle pieces together, children are simultaneously expressing their relationship to these events. Though nursery classroom materials and activities have their own potential intrinsic value, they expand and deepen in value when they also serve as a bridge to a child’s whole experiencing self.

Awareness is needed, the capacity to see is needed, an open heart is needed, in order for a teacher to respond beneficially in moments of interaction – with materials, with peers, with a teacher. These responsive, affirming ingredients help inner fragmentation to heal and promote and nurture integrated wholeness. When a teacher lovingly affirms the child’s being, the child ingests her offering as energizing, spirit-enhancing, soul-food.

Sacred space envelops, holds and contains the seeds of life within it. It provides a safe boundary and anchor for unfolding experience, moves children to live expressions, where previously they lacked vital inner connectedness, lacked core self-centeredness and meaningful connections with others.

What begins as estrangement of self from self and self from others in meaningless space, before long becomes infused with intimate, valued, human presence. The very space which in the beginning is resisted, becomes valued and cherished. Even the chairs, which contain and hold the child’s being, come to matter.

Children often want their chairs labeled with their names, claiming the object most closely associated with their bodies, and will object strongly (you’re sitting on MY chair!), if by innocent error another should chance to sit on one – even if that other is Me!(Any wonder they learn to read each others’ names fairly quickly?)

What in the beginning is resisted, in time becomes welcomed. In lived time, as distinct from passed time, a teacher’s responsive, nurturing presence awakens children’s latent energies, trust develops and profoundly empowers the child, and child-teacher relationships.

Within sacred space, children discover the meaning of acceptance and the ease of being themselves. What is in them naturally emerges, is received and valued.

Many of our children initially lack a sense of self, personal boundary, and feelings of belonging. This is especially true of our children with autism. Often, they move aimlessly, not to someone or something, but to escape meaninglessness.What is needed is encounter and increased experiential NOW moments.

Frequently children in continuous movement are labeled hyperactive by professionals and parents. Too often they are medicated. When will we learn that it is we who care for children, who must discover effective ways to alleviate anxiety, as well as high energy, instead of harming children by medicating them? A supportive tight containing environment, as well as structured ways to express whole body physical energy is usually very helpful. When we give a child medication, it implies that there is something wrong with the child. But often it is the circumstances of the child’s life that requires medication, not the child.

The family-like structure of teacher and peers within an enclosed area provides the necessary boundary for self and other exploration and discovery. Yet, in the beginning the teacher and the area have no meaning for the child, as there is little to no pre-existing history of the value of holding and containment. Meaning must be discovered and digested through vital, ongoing, living experience.

The Child's lack of self-centeredness and groundedness, of connection to self and others, the absence of feelings of belonging, makes the area's structure foreign to the child's internal experience, necessitating the need to escape - as well as to discover its valued existence.

A child’s continuous fleeing from teacher and area frequently becomes the first significant encounter between teacher and child. The child’s behavior provides the teacher with the opportunity to establish herself as a loving person in the child’s life, as one who has the strength – and sense of humor! – to maintain the containing boundary, while establishing the healing alliance with the child, regardless of the child’s behavior.

Anna
Let us consider Anna, who is autistic, and who was two years three months old, when she began to attend Beachbrook. Lost in inner space and alienated from her world, there was no reason for Anna to want to be with her teacher in their designated area. Neither the teacher nor the area had value or meaning to her, so she easily slipped out of it. Their value and meaning had to be awakened in her. This was the first challenge that confronted her teacher.

In the beginning Anna’s leaving the area was not purposeful. It was aimless wandering, lacking intention, but in time this changed to determined running and calculated escape. From the start, her teacher would playfully catch up with her, squat to eye level, take her hand and say versions of: “I see Anna running out of our area. This girl is running away from me. But I’m here to take you back. This is where I need Anna to be…” She was becoming a safe container for Anna.

This game-like behavior occurred over many days and weeks. But each time it was animated by fresh, attentive, living present centered energy. When Anna resisted her teacher’s physical containment, her teacher was inwardly pleased at Anna’s demonstration of will.

Something mattered to Anna, even if it was to escape her teacher.

These encounters (gentle, energy frictions) were helping Anna to begin to differentiate herself, as well as to discover her teacher. When Anna resisted, her teacher would say: “I feel Anna pulling away. Such a strong girl. I think you don’t want to come with me, but I need you to be with me in our area.” Anna would reluctantly be led back.

Many different words of this kind may be spoken. What is essential is that Anna came to internalize her experience of her teacher as unconditionally allied with her needs. Anna was beginning to discover her teacher’s ability to contain her, to create a safe holding environment, to make a difference, to penetrate her isolation. By resisting her teacher, Anna was discovering she had a teacher and a place to be with her.

Anna increasingly became aware of this person who was playfully coming after her. She became more aware of her surroundings too. When her teacher was a short distance from her, Anna would size-up her opportunity for escape – and escape she did - with her teacher coming after her. Pleasure and fun were visibly entering their relationship. Anna was beginning to smile when her teacher predictably came after her… Now, many months later, she cries tears (which she did not formerly do) when her teacher leaves to go on her thirty-minute break.(More regarding Anna in Chapter Three.)

Albert
Albert, a child in another classroom, is not autistic. But he was extremely oppositional when he came to Beachbrook. It was amazing to feel the intensity and physical strength of his resistance, in his two year, four month old body.

Albert seemed to believe that he was in charge of the universe and that no one was stronger than he, or strong enough to care for him. Caring for him wasn’t easy! At weekly parent groups, his mother shared that she was frequently at a loss as to how to control him. She could take charge only when she was driven to by circumstance.

To avoid escalating a situation once out of hand, she would often capitulate, thus inadvertently rewarding Albert’s tyrannical behavior. At such times, he did not know who was in the driver’s seat of their relationship, literally, he would escape from their car once his mother had parked it. He would run full speed down blocks, his ill mother threatening him and trailing behind him.

Albert arrived at school ready to do battle with his teacher as soon as he met her. Not only did he not accept his teacher and designated area, but he was very aggressive, physically and verbally.

We soon learned from Albert’s violent behavior (hurling objects, kicking, hitting and biting) that even his area was too much space for him. He was contained only in the smallest possible space – his chair, which he resisted with all his might.

He would deaden his body weight and slide onto the floor repeatedly while his teacher held him under his arms and lifted him back onto the chair. The teacher’s understanding of Albert’s resistant and challenging behavior contributed to her playful, yet determined care of him. She quietly and good naturedly said things like: “This boy doesn’t want to sit in his chair, but this is where I need Albert to be. I’m going to help you sit here.”

Variations of this behavior occurred for many weeks in lesser intensity and frequency. Through consistent boundary setting and teacher responsiveness, Albert discovered that he could trust his teacher to be strong enough to care for him unconditionally. I should add that Albert now enjoys sitting in his chair and easily remains within his area when necessary.

Joshua
Thus far I have offered examples of children who discover the value of their teacher by challenging the boundaries of relationship. I want also to comment on Joshua, a child in hiding. One could easily see his sweet physical presence; everything else was hidden.

Joshua (aged four) sat on his chair in his area and didn’t move. Though he could speak, he rarely did. When he spoke, he was barely audible. He seldom sustained eye contact. His play with objects seemed surface and uninvolved. Joshua was passing time, not living it.

We would have welcomed an active rejection of his teacher, his area, his chair, anything at all, some sign of life within him. For a long time, he remained utterly predictable and compliant. His little sister in another classroom appeared passive and lifeless like Joshua. We wondered if their behavior was inborn, or environmentally determined.

His teacher was very gentle with him. She encouraged him to name the objects he wanted to play with and whenever possible provided them. She was softly playful, sensing his insecurity and fearfulness. When he appeared sad and in hiding, his teacher wanted him to feel more visible. She offered him words that mirrored his feeling, “Joshua seems sad.” These words and others, helped to melt his isolation. When Joshua refrained from speaking to her, sometimes she would say, “I want to give this boy what he wants. Looks like Joshua doesn’t want to tell me…” Then she would provide an object for him to work with. Joshua was emotionally immobilized, but his teacher persevered, making her intentions clear.

In his silent, quiet way Joshua was taking in his teacher and his environment. He saw the caring way his teacher interacted with her other two boys – even when one of them became violent. He saw her hold Alan and contain him with her body when he had fiercely attacked her. But while she physically held Alan, her voice was quiet, firm and accepting of Alan’s angry feelings. Joshua heard her say, “I see you are feeling angry right now Alan. But I cannot let you hurt me. I won’t let anyone here hurt you.”

One day, to his teacher’s great surprise and even secret pleasure, Joshua reached across the table and took an object from Alan, one that he was playing with. Before his teacher (who was relatively new to our staff) had time to think, and before Alan could respond, his teacher firmly said to Joshua, “I see you want that toy, but Alan is playing with it. I’ll give it to you when he’s finished.” She returned the object to Alan. She was concerned about Alan’s feelings and being fair to him. And a moment which had arrived as a result of Joshua’s teacher’s sensitive nurturing was momentarily lost.

Joshua had dared to come alive by disrespecting rules of proper conduct. He was taking a risk by allowing some of his repressed energy to surface in the service of becoming a whole boy. He was testing the waters to see if they were safe enough to enter. Just then, they definitely were not.

His teacher felt disturbed. Intuitively knew that something had been missed, but could not say what it was. She brought the situation to me in our weekly half hour supervision meeting.

She had invested so much of herself to bring this little boy to life and he had responded. I wanted to help Joshua’s teacher understand the missed moment, but as important, I wanted her to know that through her effort many more would occur. Joshua would have to venture out again. His inner being would compel him to find the courage to misbehave again. The missed moment had become a valuable learning experience for Joshua and his teacher.

With her agreement we later that week discussed this situation at a staff meeting. Joshua’s teacher role-played him, another teacher played Alan, and staff members, one after the other worked with the situation. Joshua’s teacher expressed her growing awareness of what he must have experienced after each of the role-plays. Alan’s experience was explored as well. Each teacher commented on what she had discovered.

What became apparent was that it would have been better to let Alan respond to Joshua directly once he had taken his toy. He probably would have wanted the toy back. At that point the teacher might have emphatically turned to Joshua and said, “I see how much you want what Alan has, (not just the toy, but the inner freedom to fight for what he wants!) but he still needs it. As soon as he’s finished with it, I'll make sure you get it."

Such a response would help to protect the fragile emotional stirrings in this fearful child and encourage repressed feelings to emerge. In order for Joshua to be whole, to be present in his life, his feelings must emerge, be fully expressed, accepted and digested. This must happen before concerns for rules and proper conduct become a priority.

Joshua must be helped to discover that it is good to be himself in all his varying feelings in order to become integrated and whole. In our environment such an invitation is irresistible to children whether they are autistic, oppositional (attachment disorder) or severely, emotionally constricted.

<back>

Copyrighted Manuscript

BEACHBROOK THERAPEUTIC NURSERY
SCHOOL