“Katy, we have something important to discuss with you tonight at group.”

I prepared myself for a long night. Had someone been arrested? Did one of their friends wind up hospitalized for something? Whatever it was that concerned them, it was big.

They looked at each other, trying to find the words to use.

Finally, Patrick spoke. “Katy… that article about you in the paper yesterday… did you see it?”

(Um, yes.)

Beth waved a printed sheet in front of me. “Did you see what they wrote about you?!”

Oh dear, I thought to myself, the comments section. Some internet troll must have called me fat, dumb, or ugly. 

“Guys,” I said, “I don’t read the comments. Don’t worry about it. I’m a big girl.”

Ray spoke up. “They made fun of Skills for Living! That d@#&^%& #* made fun of us!”

James interjected. “Guys, I read that comment. He wasn’t making fun of any of us. Really, he’s just a guy who has some social stuff and probably needs to be here with us.”

James was right on. After reading the comment, it seemed likely to me that the anonymous poster must have had some crappy experience with a social group in the past, and wanted to air out his many thoughts. He seemed lonely and frustrated. He probably would have found a home here as a teen.

Teachable moments pop up in really weird places sometimes. The whole comment scandal led to an interesting discussion about what we should, and should not post online, how it is interpreted, and the feelings of the person on the other end. I discouraged them from posting retaliatory comments- on this particular article, and on any website (I hope they heard me).

I do love when life dishes our little community a chance to learn and grow together- and if I’m being honest, it was kind of neat to see  a group of teenagers band together to defend their social skills center.

I love these kids.

Over the past decade, Melissa and I have constantly crossed paths- usually at Stop & Shop. Somehow, the universe really just never allowed us to lose touch.

Thank goodness, because we are so blessed to have her with us at Skills for Living.

Melissa is a gifted occupational therapist. Energetic, clever, and respectful, Melissa taps into kids’ strengths to help them build up their areas for growth. She is the only person I know who can weave social and sensory curricula into one complex learning opportunity for kids- and make it fun. 

Melissa gets kids- and she really, truly cares about their well being. She will think about a child’s specific needs at length, and will try multiple approaches until she gets it right. There is simply NOTHING cookie cutter about Melissa Feldman. 

Have you met her yet? She works at Skills for Living on Saturday mornings, and will be teaching more classes this summer (Lucky us!!!). If you’d like to get to know Melissa, a terrific opportunity will be at her Shoe Tying Clinic on May 19th. She knows first hand the frustration related to not being able to master such an expected childhood task, and will go about teaching kids in an energetic, dignified way.

Give us a call at 781-584-7098 to learn more about how Melissa can weave her knowledge of Occupational Therapy and Social Thinking into a supportive program for your child. You won’t be disappointed!

In the posters, students of all ages wore sports uniforms and held musical instruments, a list of personal accomplishments including academic and social achievements in print beside their smiling faces.

Truthfully, they are lovely celebrations of some uniquely accomplished young people.

But ugh. I am just tired of seeing really difficult standards set for our kids.

I just don’t think kids don’t have to have the Academic/Athletic/Musical/Social pedigree to be considered whole or complete.

It’s OK- even healthy- for kids to have some downtime, to develop less traditional interests, and screw up royally.

My idea of “The Whole Student?” One who:

• Uses his or her Brain
• Follows their heart
• Isn’t afraid to take risks, make mistakes, and learn from them
• Is willing to work hard

What is your idea of a “Whole Student?”

For some reason, behind the personal safety of a screen name, grown adults feel free to bash one another like spiteful middle schoolers.

However, this week, a local news story caught my attention. I happened to know one of the people involved, so I found myself meandering down toward the comments section.

When I began to read the comments, posted by adults, my eyes filled up. They were so mean. Hateful, in fact. Oh, and truly? it was over a pretty basic story. The issue at hand was interesting, but not even close to life threatening.

As adults, we really need to remember that there are people behind local news stories. Someone’s mom, uncle, wife, brother. Someone’s teacher, neighbor, or dog walker. Real people. Name calling, slander, hateful attacks- they simply aren’t needed- especially over local issues.

We’re grown ups, we need to remember that we really shouldn’t post anything online that we wouldn’t post on a billboard in our hometown- with our REAL name next to it. Just like we tell our kids.

-Katy Shamitz

He noticed a young woman across the row from him. A smile of recognition spread across his face and he bounded across the aisle like a happy puppy. “Missy,” he shouted. “Hey Missy!”

She was genuinely happy to see him. They had a small conversation. As the conversation went on, it became increasingly clear the social scene was not a pocket of strength for him.

“Well, she got really drunk and admitted feelings for me,” he said a bit too loudly, sounding confused.

“Listen Joe,” Missy said. “No really. Listen. If she was drunk, it doesn’t count. It needs to be when she isn’t drinking… and YOU need to be really careful! Girls aren’t always straight forward!”

The conversation went on like this- Joe sharing his stories, asking Missy’s advice. She gently offered guidance, then when she reached her stop, a hug.

I was happy, and a little bit grateful for Joe. He is a lucky guy to have a friend to help him walk the confusing social path of young adulthood.

It also gave me hope for so many of our students. It’s not always a mean cruel world. There are people like Missy out there- to genuinely offer patience, advice, and friendship.

It’s one person’s story of living life without solid social skills.

Michelle Garcia Winner and Pamela Crooke showed this at their Social Thinking conference yesterday. Let me tell you- the whole place was in tears, and the optimistic energy that had been in the room only moments before was gone. Just gone.

Anyone who knows me or my work knows that I think the world of Michelle and her work. But man, I kind of had a beef with her showing this to a packed room- half filled with parents of kids with social challenges.

My problem is this- the video just ends. There is no call to action, no hope, no plan. That bugs me.

I think there IS hope. There is hope through teaching- which is what Social Thinking is all about.

But the is also hope in GATHERING kids who struggle.

Young people with social challenges do not need to be isolated. Gather them based on their interests and talents.

• Start an anime club.
• Build a robotics team
• Initiate a science club
• Provide a place for book clubs, chess clubs, movie nights, pizza parties, ANYTHING.

There are young people with social struggles everywhere. There is simply not a reason for them to go it alone.

Social struggles suck, no doubt. There is no magic solution, no cure, and no quick fix. But social struggles do not automatically mean “miserable life.”

I believe in an alternate ending to this film. Do you?

My daughter, Jennie, sneaks a cupcake in the office while our Grand Opening celebration happens through the window behind her.

Like being left alone in the M&Ms factory… or maybe having a permanent laundry provider.

Then, there are the dreams that sneak up on me- I don’t even know they exist until I am standing in the midst of them, smiling ear to ear.

I came face to face with a sneaky dream on Sunday, at our Skills for Living Grand Opening Party.

It hit me all of a sudden.

I was standing in our back gym area, doing a goofy line dance led by my mentor (and part-time DJ!), Donna. I was holding Jennie, surrounded by a bunch of our students, who I had dragged onto the “dance floor.” I was watching Tyler bounce in a bouncy kingdom with a bunch of our younger students. I looked on as Rob smiled and chatted with some of the teenagers. I saw my parents mingling with our wonderful team members and parents. My friend from church, Charlene, was happily serving cookies, cake, and chicken wings that were spontaneously brought in by families.

There were a LOT of people (I don’t know, 150? 200?) who came through on Sunday. The crowd was diverse- in age, strengths, interests. But together, we were just this happy swirling, loud, joyful community. We all just kind of fit together.

This community, Skills for Living, didn’t exist before, and now it does. Skills for Living is a dream come true- a vision I never knew I had.

Boy am I grateful for unexpected dreams- and the many, many people who help them come true.

I was probably seven. Maybe eight. I’m not sure.

I can still clearly see the pale yellow walls of my bedroom, as shadows from the street lights danced around, bouncing off the mirror of my white dresser.

I was terrified.

At some point in my day, I had learned about The Zodiac Killer- either from a kid on the playground, or from overhearing something in the news. I have no idea.

As I lay in my canopy bed, I vividly imagined the Zodiac Killer bursting through my second-story window and shooting me. I strategically stacked my stuffed animals around my body-
Now let’s apply adult logic to this terror… For one thing, the timelines don’t line up. According to Wikipedia, I was terrified about 15 years after the last Zodiac victim was killed. Also, why would a serial killer who committed his crimes in California chase down a school girl in suburban Connecticut? Really- ridiculous, unfounded fear. so that they could take the bullet for me- and restlessly waited for sleep. I did not tell my parents about my fear- I didn’t want THEM to become scared, too.

But here’s the thing… kids’ fears rarely make sense. Their world is is centered in their own perspective- and their imaginations are WILD. Kids can take any little bit of information and create intense, scary realities… and newsflash- they don’t always let their parents in on the worry.

As adults, we need to be very aware of what are kids are exposed to in their day- news stories- on TV, NPR, or even the front page of the Boston Globe- can spark some seriously terrifying storylines in our kids’ heads.

Also, we can’t assume our kids tell us everything that frightens them- especially as they get older.  My parents were among the best- and they had no idea about this fear- because I purposely hid it from them. Every now and then, it’s a good plan to have a conversation about fears and worries. Sharing your own childhood fears are a great place to start… because you have the opportunity to show how they were unfounded.

It’s funny how unresolved childhood fears stand the test of time. Just seeing that profile sketch of the Zodiac Killer made me pretty uncomfortable… and prompted me t find and put on my thickest, fuzziest bathrobe.

A good friend-

• knows when you need a night out with the girls, and sets it up so that it is easy for you.
• sends you a card with $3 for ice cream inside.
• drives 100 miles or more to say “I’m happy for you.”
• cuts fruit and makes punch for your party.
• runs across the street to babysit your kids for 5 minutes to save you a moment of anxiety.
• likes your so-so Facebook status, because she knows it makes you happy.
• send a quick text to check in, but doesn’t get mad if you forget to reply for three days.
• prays for you- and lets you know.
• notices when you and your husband need a night out, and watches the kids on a moment’s notice.
• randomly shows up at 8:45 am with a medium Dunkin’ Donuts coffee- with milk and one sugar.
• unexpectedly shows up at your husband’s grandmother’s funeral.
• celebrates your accomplishments, but tells you when you need to slow down. 
• has the courage to call you up and fill you in on potential problems with your kids, even if it’s uncomfortable in the moment.
• knits you a headband… or a hat… or stuffed animal:

THANK YOU to all of the wonderful friends who surround me in my life. Thank you for being present, caring, and available- even when I haven’t been.

You are a gift.

Not because he screams and cries or pouts, but rather, because he doesn’t. He kind of takes setbacks in stride.

Yesterday, Tyler, Jennie, and I swung by Molly Moo’s, the new ice cream shop in our neighborhood. They weren’t even open yet, but the folks setting up humored our enthusiasm with a friendly, “we’re doing our best to open up tomorrow.”

If there is one thing our family understands these days, it is the complications of opening a business, so the three of us happily walked home, making plans to drop in the next day.

It was all Tyler could talk about- the big trip to Molly Moo’s on the first day it opens.

We walked up the street this afternoon and Tyler bolted to the door… only to find it locked. He climbed on the green bench out front and peeked in the window. When he realized it was closed, his shoulders rolled in, and he slumped on the bench, chin in his little hands. He sighed.

“Sorry buddy,” I said.

“Sorry buddy,” Jennie echoed.

Tyler shrugged. “I guess it’s just really hard to get an ice cream shop opened up. Maybe tomorrow.”

We walked home together, hand in hand, talking about how good the ice cream will be when we finally taste it… surely even better than if we had  gotten it the first, or even second time we had hoped.

Disappointment is a drag. Especially for a five-year-old who has been dreaming of a cone since he saw the cheerful cow sign go up… but learning to survive disappointment builds character- the kind of resilience that can’t really be taught without real-life practice.