My son is 2-1/2, and he doesn't talk. Well, he says a few words. And now and then, he'll do something odd like pull back the shades and ask, "Did it snow?" He understands everything. He plays well with his brother. He has mastered both the Mac and PC. He uses sign language. He just doesn't talk.
At the suggestion of some readers, I read Thomas Sowell's books: The Einstein Syndrome: Bright Children Who Talk Late and Late-Talking Children. I understand that many disagree with his conclusions, though I'm not sure why. I'm new to this literature. I'll present his ideas, and I'll let the debate rage on in the comment section. (I would prefer if commenters did not discuss my kid. Thanks.)
Sowell is an economist who got involved in this topic after writing a column about his son, who was a late talker, but gifted in math and computers. Many wrote to him with similar experiences with their own children. Sowell maintains that many individuals who are unusually gifted in math and music, don't learn to speak until relatively late. Perhaps their brains function differently. These left brainers are also slow to potty train, are loners, and are generally pains in the asses.
All these children learn to speak eventually, but they and their parents are unfairly stressed out and demoralized by a system that does not know how to deal with different kids and that is hung up by labels.
Our educational system is set up to deal with a "normal" child. Those who don't sit in circle group or obey commands are labeled. Those with disabilities and those who are gifted equally suffer under this rigid system.
So-called experts put these non-conforming children through an unreasonable battery of tests, especially for their age. Those who refuse to comply may be assumed to be unable to comply. Oddball cases are pigeonholed into categories that are inappropriate. These experts are, in many cases, not even qualified to make such assessments. Some stand to gain financially by applying such labels.
The treatments imposed on misdiagnosed children may do more harm than good. Forcing a child to speak before they are able may do lasting harm on their self-esteem. Sowell recognizes that some children with disabilities are well served by early intervention, but it doesn't follow that this is the right road for everyone.
I enjoyed Sowell's book not because it validates every mother's fantasy that her child is the next Einstein. But because it points at flaws that I've seen in the system after only four months of involvement.
Ian's speech therapy seems to be making little progress. He has gotten more used to people trying to make him talk; there are less screams. He has strengthened his mouth muscles, so when he is able to talk, it will be easier for him. But he hasn't said any new words. I just don't think he's ready for it yet.
His therapist stresses us out. He's strapped in a high chair for 50 minutes where he is forced to do puzzles that are too easy for him. After every session, she writes up his progress. The daily report card is a record of his poor progress. She urged us to increase his therapy. But that would involve more testing and one less social activity per week. No, he is only two and he has to have fun also. I refused.
Because the state will stop funding his therapy in April, the town must now assume responsibility. I went to the school last week, where a five member panel reviewed his case and struggled for two hours to find a label for him. "He understands everything and plays well with others. No, not on the spectrum. He isn't a messy eater. Not apraxia. He knows his ABCs. Not mental retardation. Maybe it's selective mutism." Uh, no.
Now we're looking forward to another battery of tests. We also have to endure a visit by social worker who is going to make sure that we're not beating him. Ian, I'm sorry.
Sowell thinks the best thing he did for his son was to spend lots of time with him. His son received therapy by a highly trained professional, but the boy made the most progress when he was just with his dad playing around with a tape machine. I like him for that.
We've become too obsessed with development milestones. We've become too obsessed with engineering the perfect kids and patching up defects with therapy. Some defects might work themselves out with age. Some defects are fine and even interesting, like the mole on Cindy Crawford's cheek. Maybe some defects are part of the cost for having a surplus of talent in other areas.
Sowell offers a much needed questioning of the therapy culture. He doesn't discount therapy entirely, but he prescribes a dose of common sense, which is what our oddball kids need most.