Sensory Stories for Children and Teens with Special Educational Needs

A Practical Guide

Joanna Grace

• Publisher: Jessica Kingsley Publishers
• Year: 2014
• Print ISBN: 9781849054843
• eBook ISBN: 9780857008749
• Topic: Education
• Subtopic: Inclusive Education

Sensory Stories are short stories of a few lines which are brought to life through a selection of meaningful sensory experiences. They are particularly beneficial for students with Sensory Processing Disorder (SPD), profound and multiple learning difficulties (PMLD), autism spectrum disorders (ASD) and other special educational needs (SEN).

For children with PMLD, Sensory Stories can open up new avenues for communication and inclusive learning. For students with SPD and ASD, they offer a fun way of encountering sensory experiences and triggers in a safe, repetitive way, which over time can help to reduce associated anxieties. This accessible guide offers teachers, other professionals working with students with SEN and parents with a complete step-by-step guide to creating and using Sensory Stories effectively. Aiming to make Sensory Stories affordable and accessible to schools and parents alike by using everyday items found in the classroom and home, Joanna Grace provides original, ready-to-use Sensory Stories with accompanying lesson plans, games and activities and adaptations for different abilities and diagnoses.

Written by an experienced SEN consultant and sensory learning specialist, this is unique and essential reading for teachers, other professionals and parents wishing to introduce the many benefits of multi-sensory storytelling to children in their care.

PART I

Background

1

THE IMPORTANCE OF SENSORY STIMULATION

Sensory stimulation is central to our cognitive development (Ayer 1998). It is not just useful or an added extra; it is necessary. When a child is born, it is the information received through its senses that wires its brain (Bruner 1959; Gabbard and Rodrigues 2007; Piaget 1952).

One easy way to think about early cognitive development is to consider the brain as a densely overgrown forest. When we have a sensory experience it sends an electronic pulse through our mind, creating a neural trace. If this experience is repeated, the trace becomes a pathway. Think of the experience as a person walking through it, they wouldn’t make much of an impact, but as they walk more, the pathway would become well worn.

Experiences from different senses form different pathways through the forest. At a point where two pathways intersect, coordination develops between our senses. When sight coordinates with touch (or proprioception) we develop hand-eye coordination. The development of hand-eye coordination is not possible without first experiencing a wide range of sensory stimuli. Many important developmental milestones follow from the development of hand-eye coordination.

Sensory stimulation is not only necessary for brain development, it is also necessary for the maintenance of our faculties (Bruner 1959). In the forest of the mind, if a well-trodden path were no longer walked it would grow over and become lost. Most of us lead lives in which we will never experience the sort of sensory deprivation that could cause the loss of our abilities. However, some people may have to live in environments that are low in sensory stimulation; other people may purposefully avoid sensory stimulation (Chapter 5 on sensory processing disorder will explain more about why they may do this); other people’s access to sensory stimulation may be limited by their physical abilities.

Early on in my career I attended a Richard Hirstwood training session. Training aimed specifically at people who worked in special schools was very hard to come by, particularly in rural Cornwall, so I was very excited to find such a relevant course. Richard told a story that serves as a very stark illustration of the ‘use it or lose it’ aspect to our sensory abilities. At the time I did not see it as a story so much as a test, here is what happened:

It was the start of the day. I was in a room full of people who did similar work to me. Many had been in their roles for 20–30 years; I had been in my job for just two years. I was very nervous. Richard welcomed us and explained that the first thing he wanted to do was tell us about a man he had worked with and we were then to diagnose this gentleman. I was alarmed; I thought that Richard was testing us to see how knowledgeable we were before he continued with the day. I knew I didn’t stand a chance at guessing the condition of someone I hadn’t met.

The man Richard described had a hunched-over body position and limited movement of his limbs. He could walk but not very far. He did not respond to visual or auditory stimuli and did not speak. His eyes, ears and vocal cords had been tested, and as far as the medical profession knew there was nothing physically wrong with them. I had no idea what condition was being described, however, a few more-senior members of the group put their hands up and guessed at rare conditions that I had never heard of. They were wrong. That the experts got it wrong gave other people the courage to venture answers. The guesses got progressively more vague, ‘Was it some type of this, or a sort of that?’ people wondered aloud. Richard kept up a steady stream of ‘noes’ in response.

Finally Richard told us what had happened to the man. When he was 17 he had broken up with his girlfriend and as a consequence had become very depressed, not getting out of bed in the morning and crying constantly. His parents were so distressed by his state that they had him committed to a local asylum. There he was put into bed by staff each evening and in the morning he was got up and sat in a chair beside the bed. Each day this was repeated: bed in the evening; chair in the morning. Bed-chair, bed-chair, bed-chair. This cycle was maintained for 15 years.

The man’s body was the shape of the chair he had sat in for those 15 years. It was not that he had become blind but that he had become personally disconnected from his sense of sight. He had no interest in seeing anymore: he’d seen the same view for 15 years. The same applied to his hearing. His needs had always been met. He’d had no reason to communicate. Without reason or cause to use his senses or his abilities he had gradually shut down and withdrawn entirely into an inward world.

We are all so accustomed to living sensorially rich lives that it is easy for us to overlook the need for sensory stimulation – to think of it as a fun activity and nothing more. Sensory stimulation is vital for our development and vital for a happy life.

Sensory stimulation and children with physical or sensory impairments

We instinctively know the importance of sensory stimulation to the developing child; we dangle bright objects above babies, make silly noises, give them tactile toys to grab and chew. All of these things are great for promoting their cognitive development, but we should not underestimate just how much sensory stimulation a developing child accesses independently.

Imagine a typically developing child lying in their cot: the child hears a noise and turns their head to see what made the sound; the child spots a splodge of colour and reaches out with a hand to investigate what it might be. A typically developing child engages pretty much constantly in this sort of activity. All of these small investigations help to develop neural pathways in their mind.

Now imagine a child with profound physical disabilities lying in a cot; the child hears a noise but cannot turn their head; the child sees a shape but cannot reach out to investigate further.

Researchers investigating different aspects of provision for individuals with disabilities all comment on the diagnostic overshadowing which can occur (e.g. Hayes et al. 2011). It is very easy for people to believe that the cognitive delay observed in children with profound and multiple learning disabilities is a direct result of their disability, and not question whether it is a consequence of their not having had as much stimulation as typically developing peers. Yet if we look to the research that talks about early cognitive development and the importance of sensory stimulation, we find a wealth of researchers talking about how important the environment and the stimulation within it is to development (e.g. Glenn 1987; Gray and Chasey 2006; Hayes et al. 2011; Lacey 2009; Longhorn 1988; Vlaskamp et al. 2007; Ware 2003, cited in Gray and Chasey 2006). Ayer (1998, p.89) stressed the importance of sensory stimulation to development by saying, with reference to the development of hand-eye coordination: ‘The child with profound and multiple learning disabilities, combined with sensory and physical impairments, requires a sensory curriculum in order to bring them to this important stage of intellectual and motor development’.

The child who is unable to access sensory stimulation on their own begins their development on the back foot. It is very important that carers seek to provide individuals with profound disabilities with a wide range of sensory experiences. Sensory stories are one way of offering such stimulation.

The inability to access sensory stimulation independently does not only affect a child’s neurological development; it also affects their attitude towards learning and engagement with life. Researchers found that some of the perceived passivity observed in individuals with profound and multiple learning disabilities was not solely down to their disabilities, as had previously been assumed, but was a form of learned helplessness. Hayes et al. (2011) report individuals with profound intellectual disabilities as suffering with low mood, making them less likely to engage in activities. They also found low mood could be the cause of negative behaviours displayed by individuals with conditions such as autism spectrum disorder, and speculated that antidepressants could be a more effective treatment than the currently prescribed tranquilisers.

Reflecting on the new-born child in their cot, it is easy to see how this could occur. The child lies in their cot, hears a sound and wants to turn their head to see what made the noise, but cannot. The child sees a shape and wants to reach out for it, but cannot. The child is interested in the world, curious about it, keen to engage with it, but learns over and over again that it is out of reach. It is natural that they would eventually give up trying to find out about it. Children unable to access the world around them can turn inwards for stimulation, and become disengaged with the world. This limits their ability to learn and their desire to communicate. In extreme cases individuals will self-harm in order to get the stimulation they desire.¹

Sensory stories are one way of providing individuals with a range of sensory experiences.

Our senses – the famous five, plus two

We have five famous senses and a few others that not everyone has heard about. The five famous ones are touch, taste, hearing, smell and sight. I have seen up to 18 additional senses added to this list, but for the purpose of this book I will be adding just two more: our vestibular sense and our proprioceptive sense. We use these senses to help us to understand where our body is and what is happening to us.

Your vestibular sense relates to balance and movement. Picture yourself in a completely closed-in, sound-insulated lift. You know when it starts to move. You have not used your sense of sight, because it is completely closed in. You did not use your ability to hear, because it is sound insulated so you are not able to hear the motor start. You did not use taste or smell, and the only touch you experienced was your feet against the floor. It is your vestibular sense that tells you that the lift is moving.

Your proprioceptive sense tells you where your body is in space. Try this experiment: put a cup on a table then turn around and reach behind you with your hand to pick up the cup. My bet is that you are able to do this with relative ease. I expect that you reached straight for the cup – you did not look, you certainly could not hear where the cup was, nor did you sniff or taste your way there. You might have felt your way along the edge of the table, but I doubt it; I expect you were able to reach straight for the cup. You were able to reach for the cup without looking because you knew where it was and you knew where your body was in space; that is your proprioceptive sense in action.

As with your other senses, your vestibular and proprioceptive senses can be impaired. A person may have stronger or weaker proprioception. Individuals with low proprioceptive sense will seek to discover where their body is through their other senses; this counters the unnerving sensation of not quite knowing where their bodies are. Someone with low proprioception may well fidget a lot because this will give them feedback through their sense of touch about where they are. Similarly, tipping and spinning can be ways of amplifying the information received by the brain from the vestibular sense.

Teachers and parents may view a child who is engaged in something like fidgeting or spinning as being distracted from their learning. I am not saying every child who tips their chair or fidgets has a sensory impairment, but I can say that it is possible that these sorts of behaviours may actually help, rather than hinder, a child’s concentration.

A person in a state of anxiety is not in an optimal state for learning. Fear activates our primitive fight or flight response, which actually bypasses the part of the brain responsible for learning. A frightened child will not learn. A child who feels anxious because they are unsure where their body is will look to soothe that anxiety in some way. If they are able to soothe their anxiety then they will be in a state ready to learn. As teachers and parents, it is our job to find ways to provide for children’s needs in a manner that suits their environment; for example, a child who seeks feedback about where their body is by tipping their chair can be given an elastic physio band (or a pair of tights) to wrap around the legs of their chair; they can then press against this band with their feet and get the feedback they need without distracting other learners. Other children respond well to being given small toys to fiddle with whilst they listen, or feel less anxious when wearing compression clothing.

What makes for strong sensory stimuli?

Sensory stories are told using words and sensory stimuli. Unlike a picture book, the stimuli are not merely an accompaniment to the words; they are as much the story as the words are, so just as we choose the right words for a story, we should also choose the right stimuli for a story.

When picking sensory stimuli to tell a story I think about two things: how great an experience does the stimulus give, and how connected is the stimulus to the story I want to tell? To tell a good sensory story you need to get both these things right. It is no good having a great set of sensory stimuli that have nothing whatsoever to do with the narrative bending the narrative to fit the stimuli you happen to have, having a great story that is told through a weak selection of sensory stimuli.

A strong sensory stimulus is one that wholly engages a sense, or one that demands attention from a sense. Children’s books are often illustrated with pictures. A picture is not a strong visual experience by itself. To be interested in a picture you need prior knowledge about what a picture does, an understanding that pictures convey information and represent life, and to be interested in what might be in that picture. Without this understanding, a picture is just a selection of coloured blobs in a particular location.

Imagine a teacher reading a picture book in front of the class. The teacher presents the children with a page of colours and lines. On the classroom walls behind the teacher are colourful posters, to the side are the children’s coats and bags of different colours and textures and on the tables are colourful pencil tins. The children have no reason to look at the picture in terms of its visual features alone.

A strong visual experience could be something that impacts your whole vision. It need not be com...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Half Title
• Of Related Interest
• Title Page
• Copyright
• Dedication
• Contents
• Foreword
• Introduction
• Part I Background
• Part II Sharing Sensory Stories
• Part III Using Sensory Stories to form The Basis of Group Sessions
• Part IV Assessment
• Part V The Sensory Stories and Associated Resources
• References
• Further Reading
• Index
• Also available