Disability? I say, "Yes" and "Thank you!"

What do you do when you face an ordeal? Mother of five children, Christine Mayer knows and understands both precociousness and disability. Thanks to her experiences, she shares her secret to make every trial beneficial, constructive, and a source of learning and inspiration.

Christine earned the highest degree of mathematics teaching (French Mathematics Agrégation), many Feuerstein certificates, including a trainer certificate, and has trained in diverse fields in the neurosciences. She has followed an atypical course, thanks to the difficulties of her fourth child. Her background and her skills permit her to help parents in nonprofit organizations, and to create original performance tools to increase emotional and cognitive intelligence. At the Upbraining Institute, she trains parents and professionals in metapedagogy and organizes intensive week-long trainings where metapedagogists address and improve the abilities of children, young people and adults.

This talk was given at a TEDx event using the TED conference format but independently organized by a local community. Learn more at http://ted.com/tedx

In life, I can choose to say:

This glass is half empty or…?

(Audience) "Half full!"

Let’s go further than "half full."

I can also focus on its precious
contents and ask myself:

What can I do with that?

I can drink it, I can offer it to someone,

I can use it to water a plant,
to rinse something, or to cook.

To be positive is the springboard
from which we can choose to go further:

to choose to act.

Do you remember Dumbo,
the little elephant?

He was born with ears that were too long,
that made him trip.

What could he do with them?

He learned to fly!

Years ago, I didn’t realize
that I had water inside of my glass.

I believed my other
children's progress was normal,

it was almost a given,
it just happened automatically.

But when my fourth son, Nicolas, was born,

I instantly saw
there was cause for concern:

no eye contact, he didn’t even cry out
for something to eat -

he was in a "vegetative" state.

What can I do with that?

I decided to do everything possible
to help him progress.

When he was 6 months old,

a prominent specialist
confirmed the diagnosis,

and said that Nicolas
would never walk, never talk,

and that he would be
a "vegetable" his entire life.

What can I do with that?

I considered it a challenge.
And I love challenges!

The more difficult it is,
the more I am attracted.

You'll have noticed that I said
"challenge" and not "problem."

Which is the connotation of that word?

When we hear "problem,"
it’s often a catastrophe.

Children hear their parents
talking of "problems,"

with an overwhelmed look on their face.

Then we're surprised
that children get stuck

when they see the word
"problem" at school.

So for me, Nicolas's difficulties were
a challenge to overcome, not a problem.

But I had no idea of the magnitude
of this challenge.

Fortunately.

Mark Twain said:

"They did not know
it was impossible, so they did it."

I did not know it was impossible,

so I did it.

First of all, I differentiated
between diagnosis and prognosis.

We cannot change a diagnosis,
but the prognosis, yes.

And I chose to not believe the prognoses
if they were unfavorable.

And so, the first prognosis:
he will never be able to walk.

What can I do with that?
I am going to teach him how!

I divided all the steps:

with my family, we taught him
to move his arms and his legs,

to move his back by pushing on his legs,

to roll over, to sit,
to crawl on an inclined plane,

to crawl on a horizontal plane,

to walk on all fours,
then to take his first step.

So I learned how to set goals
and, for every goal,

precise aims to achieve.

And what's more,

you can’t imagine the joy
I felt every time he reached a goal.

Likewise, I rejoiced more for the progress
of my other children.

I learned to rejoice
at any small thing around me,

I learned to feel gratitude
for everything around me.

And feeling gratitude
is the secret of happiness.

Second prognosis:
he will never be able to talk.

Effectively, when he was 4,
Nicolas couldn’t repeat the sound "ah."

No speech therapist in our area
felt competent to work with him.

I could have told myself
that it was because of his disability

that he couldn't make
any intelligible sounds.

But looking for excuses
is to throw in the towel.

To act is to look for a way.

What can I do with that?

I found a speech therapist
60 miles from our home,

who first taught him how to say "moto,"

then "dad" and "mom."

Can you imagine my joy?

There are always ways.
You just need to find them.

Then I learned Makaton,
which uses sign language.

And so, he finally understood
that the sounds he heard had a meaning.

Then it was reading, which he learned
thanks to my mother’s method,

and which enabled him to talk.

But as he made physical progress,

Nicolas also loved to play
the stereotypical games.

He could switch the light on, off,
on, off, on, off … for hours.

In a center where he used to go,

he had fun transferring the water
from one glass to another

for hours, days, weeks…

There, a professional told me
that he surely needed that.

What can I do with that?

I asked myself: Which need?

And then I got the best idea ever -
I mean, for my child,

but I think also for all those
who have autistic behaviors.

I told myself he needed to learn
something from his experience.

So I taught him "full," "empty,"

and the meanings of "more,"
"less," "as much as," and "half."

He watched me, and that was it --
he never played that game anymore.

We also repeat some experiences,
we also make mistakes

until we understand something, don’t we?

That great specialist had told us
that Nicolas would never go to school.

What can I do with that?

I asked to enroll him in school.

At 5 years old, he went to preschool
for 2 hours a week.

Why does a child with difficulties
need fewer hours in school

than a child who functions well?

I have never understood this logic
that is still in place today.

I would like someone to explain it to me.

One day, he was playing,
doing his best to color a drawing,

while the teacher had a talk with me.

She told me that Nicolas
never understood orders.

Moreover, she noticed he was
less competent than her 2-year-old pupil.

And then, Nicolas furiously
doodled his drawing,

then crumpled the paper.

What can I do with that?

I understood something crucial.

Put yourself in a child’s shoes.

An adult tells you: "You are incompetent."

How do you feel about that?

The verb "to be" indicates an identity.

If one tells a child he is incompetent,

this label will be inherent to him.

Incompetence will then be a part
of his deepest being.

And that label prevents change.

It programs him.

He will tell himself he is like that,
that he can’t change.

Imagine the damage that can be done
when a child hears:

"He's naughty!"

"He's unbearable!"

"He's shy!"

Imagine the damage that can be done
when he becomes an adult,

when he repeats that to himself.

Have you ever said to yourself:
"Oh! How stupid I am!"?

To train yourself to stop labeling others,

you have to start
by not labeling yourself.

[I'm lazy.]

At the end of the school year,
the teacher confessed

that some professionals told her
not to waste time on Nicolas,

since he would never learn
to read, write or count, anyway.

What can I do with that?

I realized that when
you don't believe in a child,

especially when he is fragile,

he will not find resources inside himself.

[Eagle: I dream of flying.
Chicken: Eagles stay on the ground!]

Besides, this was proved
by Rosenthal and Jacobson,

with the Pygmalion effect.

Remember Dumbo?

He learned to fly because the crows
believed he could do it.

I learned

to see the potential inside people.

I learned to believe in their abilities.

And when people feel
the faith we have in them,

they do miracles!

Remember that the school teacher said
Nicolas didn’t understand orders?

What can I do with that?

I needed to understand why
to be able to help him.

He could hear ever since he had
surgery for his deafness,

when he was 4 years old.

But Nicolas didn’t listen.

He lip-read and he was very nearsighted,

so if the teacher
was farther than 7 feet away,

he couldn’t understand
what she was saying.

So I learned to find out
the real reasons behind an issue,

and not just take it at face value.

When he was 6 years old,

Nicolas was taken out
of the school system.

What can I do with that?

Great!

Anyway, he only learned in his school
that he was incompetent.

At the time, I taught
twelfth-grade science classes.

And I was placed in front of a child

who didn’t know the difference
between 1, 2 and 3.

What a big challenge!

I learned to meditate to find a way.

And I conceived of an amazing method
to understand numbers and operations,

which still benefits many children today.

When he was 7 years old,

Nicolas was even rejected
from the special education system.

Fortunately!

It’s because he needed another way.

We decided to do homeschooling.

Don’t think it was easy for me
because I was a teacher.

For me, everything had to go fast.

When I was 4, I could read;
at 16, I graduated from high school;

at 18, I got married;
at 19, I had my first child;

at 20, I earned a mathematics
teacher certification;

at 21, another certification and
the highest mathematics teaching degree.

Nothing to do with teaching a child
with such extreme difficulties!

What can I do with that?

So I learned… patience.

I learned to analyze
every aspect of learning.

I worked to discover
what level Nicolas was at,

to bring him higher.

That's how we should do it
with all students, isn’t it?

They are there to be built up.

But when a child has
too many difficulties,

when he doesn’t understand, what do we do?

We can tell ourselves
that he just needs to work --

or worse, that he is incompetent.

I choose to ask myself:
What can I do with that?

And I consider it my responsibility --

it is I who must figure out
how to teach him.

And I look for different strategies
until he understands.

So I went on teaching Nicolas.

But when he reached 10 years old,

I felt he was no longer progressing
in his understanding.

I was trying to figure out the best
processes for his learning

and I felt blocked.

What can I do with that?

Then I took off alone in an RV,
to attend a Feuerstein Workshop

close to Amsterdam.

There I learned
the 29 cognitive functions,

and it was a revelation.

They are the building blocks of reasoning.

If you build a house without a foundation,

what happens?

It doesn’t stand!

In the same manner,
in order to build learning,

we need the cognitive functions
to be in place correctly.

I improved their presentation

so that they would be accessible
even to children.

It’s a marvelous tool to understand

the origin of learning issues.

They even helped my other 4 children
who were advanced for their age.

A precocious child functions so fast,

they don't even know
how they found a result.

They don't even know
what they do to think.

And a precocious child
often fails at school

because if the result
doesn’t come immediately, they freeze.

What can I do with that?

I helped them learn
how to analyze their thinking

so they would be able to succeed
in their studies and in their life.

Then I watched around me,

and I saw the other children
were far away from Nicolas.

Nicolas was not near the other children
because he was afraid of them.

He kept a 7-foot security perimeter.

What can I do with that?

I told a local teacher about it,

and he proposed giving a training
to his pupils about autism.

Then they looked for strategies
to approach Nicolas and to include him.

The year spent in that 5th-grade class
was his nicest school year.

In the school playground,

he allowed the others
to approach him, to touch him,

and he had a lot of friends.

I learned that,

thanks to knowledge, preparation,
and a teacher’s willingness,

miracles can happen.

I saw a lot of children
around me who had difficulties.

What can I do with that?

In an nonprofit organization
that I had created,

we helped them
to overcome their difficulties,

thanks to a method that I had learned
and improved upon.

The results were so wonderful
that I wanted others to benefit.

But I couldn’t take care of everybody.

So I created a company
called "Upbraining,"

to get the opportunity
to train parents and professionals.

We designed efficient tools
to develop cognitive functions.

We identified which learning
processes were necessary.

The way we teach is called "metapedagogy."

It’s a transversal method
to existing pedagogies.

It applies to everyone,

even to non-disabled persons.

I remembered that Nicolas had
trouble learning how to write.

So we designed apps for tablets

for learning how to trace
writing basic lines, then letters,

while making it fun.

Nicolas had also had issues

with learning about, recognizing
and managing his emotions.

What can I do with that?

I designed tools to recognize,
understand and manage emotions,

that others could benefit from as well.

But emotional intelligence
doesn’t refer only to emotions.

It also addresses
the ability to communicate

in the best possible way.

Many people on the autistic spectrum
have difficulties in this area.

But you don't need
to be on the autistic spectrum

to have difficulty communicating.

At home, Nicolas
couldn’t tolerate arguments.

What can I do with that?

We learned how to communicate
without fighting.

And I created tools
to learn how to communicate

and how to manage conflicts.

Thanks to this experience with my son,

I got the opportunity to learn, to create,

and to help others.

Nicolas loves accounting,

working on the computer,
playing the piano,

skiing, riding horses
and getting to know other people.

Maybe we don’t choose what happens to us,

but we can choose
either to act as a victim,

waiting passively for things to happen,

or to be proactive and to act.

That’s our choice.

We can do it.

For every experience,

we can act,

find a way,

and learn something.

Thanks to Nicolas and his brothers
and sister, my life became fascinating.

So, disability?

What can I do with that?

I can say, "Yes."

And, "Thank you."