Why classical myth and autism?

Why classical myth and autism?

The idea for this project started to take shape at a meeting in 2008 with a special needs teacher, who mentioned that, in her experience and those of her colleagues, autistic children often enjoy classical myth. I began to wonder why this might be the case, and whether – as a classicist who researches, and loves, classical myth – there was anything I could contribute. I started this blog to report on my progress which was often sporadic until the launch of the Warsaw-based European Research Council-funded project Our Mythical Childhood (2016-22) to trace the role of classics in children’s culture.

My key contribution to the project is an exploration of classics in autistic children’s culture, above all by producing myth-themed activities for autistic children. This blog shares my progress, often along Herculean paths, including to a book of lessons for autistic children focusing on the Choice of Hercules between two very different paths in life. The image above, illustrating the homepage of this blog, is one of the drawings by Steve K. Simons, the book's illustrator, of a chimneypiece panel in a neoclassical villa at Roehampton in South West London. The lessons centre on this panel.

Tuesday 5 February 2019

What do children see when they encounter classical myth?

As I have set out in the previous two postings to this blog, I am currently beginning to plan my second set of activities for autistic children, which, as I have said, will be concerned with interplays between between myth and history. The current posting reflects on an issue that I am taking note of as I prepare these resources, namely how far I am writing not so much for ‘real’ autistic children as for my own sense of what an autistic child might be.

A little over a year ago, I wrote a piece for Liz Hale’s Antipodean Odyssey blog setting out my ‘Saturnalian surprise’ of 2017. The surprise in question was my contribution to a set that Liz was collecting from the Our Mythical Childhood team. What I shared was this: despite the best efforts of adults in packaging classical myth in the best possible way for children, the children in question might not respond in the way that the adult expects them to.

One issue here might be a point made by Sheila Murnaghan in an article that I quoted from in the posting, namely that, as it is adults who write children’s literature, their work “inevitably answers to adult agendas and addresses not so much real children as adults’ constructions of children”.[1] Re-reading this quotation a year and a bit on, I am struck by just how well it applies to the resources I am creating for autistic children.

During the early months of 2018, I produced the first of three sets of resources for use with autistic children, based around a particular episode concerning Hercules, where the hero faces a choice between two opposing paths in life. I did this having thought a great deal about what it is like to experience the world as an autistic person. I thought about what the distinctive traits of autistic thinking and autistic experience can be. I thought about how far it might be possible, though myth, to set up a gateway between the world of an autistic person and that of a non-autistic person. I thought about how far, though classical myth, I could help autistic children deal with some of the challenges of living in a world where non-autistic experiences dominate. And I thought about how far, through classical myth, it might be possible to stimulate autistic children’s imagination.

Having done all this, I am now reflecting on how it is inevitable that, as an adult, I have been bringing my own notions of children and childhood to what I write. I am also reflecting on how far the activities I was developing were responding to adult agendas, and addressing my own construction of an autistic child.  I did, however, stress in the Saturnalia piece that it is important to take account of what children say about myth. I said: "Children learn when they encounter myth. We can learn too – from children." Since then, I have been musing on how far it is important to observe what children see when they encounter something classical.

I attended a Q&A session recently – in late November of last year – with Marcia Williams, an experienced and successful children’s author. When asked whether she runs focus groups she replied that she never does. Rather, she writes what she thinks children will find entertaining and interesting. At the other end, I have heard arguments in favour of finding out how children respond to children’s literature. For example, in a review of Katarzyna Marciniak's recent edited collection on Classics and children's literature, Nadya Willliams suggests that one approach might be interview children about how they feel about what they have read on a given topic.

In addition, I have learnt a great deal from the practitioner’s reports that Sonya Nevin has added to some of her entries for the Our Mythical Childhood survey. Here, here and here for instance Sonya discusses how the intended audiences of books for very young readers respond to the material presented for them, including in ways that the author did not intend (for each link, click the heading 'ADDENDA').

In the months after I completed the first set of resources, I began gathering feedback on them – from adults, including a group of autism specialists. I took part in a workshop in Warsaw in a café run by autistic people and some of the staff from the café took part. Again, they were adults. I also worked with Effie Kostara, a classical philologist and Education practitioner who wrote a guide for teachers who might be using the resources. I ran an activity last month with students at Roehampton where their depth of engagement with the activities led to some deeply-engaged responses including the one pictured here. But, again, the participants were adults.

I have learnt a great deal from these various activities, but what is missing from them is engagement with children. However, as well as all these activities with adults, I have also, twice now, been into a local primary school’s autism unit with Effie, firstly to meet the children and their teachers and secondly to conduct a very initial pilot study of the Choice of Hercules activities. It is in response to some of the questions asked by the students that I have come up with the topic for the second set of activities. Soon, I shall post on what the questions were and how they have shaped this new stage of the project.


4 comments:

Didymus Douanla said...

I find this quite topical and immediately question if there is indeed a way of involving children especially those with autism in the writing or acting process, given that we believe they are too young to write or speak for themselves. Is there really a possibility of them speaking for themselves not just responding? Also can their responses be involved in the production of new mythic content?

Susan Deacy said...

Many thanks for your comment! One thing that really excites me is just how ready children, including autistic children, are to share what they feel and think - through reading and speaking and also through drawing and music and a whole array of non-verbal communications. So I'd say that there is indeed a way to involve children!

Effie Kostara said...

Hello, Susan.. This is Effie.. Reflecting on our experience and trying to remember what children were saying while working on the myth, I think that they seem to be more engaged when we 'bring' the myth closer to their experiences.. Either by using questions or specific tasks.. I remember that many children were trying to comment on the picture using contemporary structures and ideas.

Susan Deacy said...

Yes that chimes with my memories Effie - I was struck at how the children brought their own interests and views of the world to their responses to Hercules and to the two women...