by Jessie Cooper | Nov 22, 2024
In my last blog, I wrote about the importance of asking for help when our children are struggling. In sharing that we not only provide this type of support at Instructional ABA Consultants but that I’ve received it as a parent, I am hopeful you feel less alone. In my heart of hearts I believe that the biggest barrier to reaching for help is the barrier of “should.” When we, or our children, are struggling, shame pops right up with a tailored list of “you should…they should…” This narrative is both exhausting and defeating. It keeps us isolated and alone in our struggles. As the great Brene Brown states, “The only way to conquer shame is by shining a light on it.” Shame lives in the dark with us; connection melts it away.
This is my hope for you, darlings – that instead of sitting alone with your perceived list of failures as a parent, you sit in community realizing you’re not alone. Just this past week I was taking a walk to center myself before a difficult meeting. On the path was a young mom balancing her toddler on her back and her coffee. She was frazzled that if she put her coffee down she wouldn’t have it, but if she put her toddler down he would scream. I came up beside her and offered to carry the coffee while they made their way to the library. We walked this way for less than ten minutes but she shared, “No one ever talks about how hard this is! Every time I bring up on Instagram that I’m being screamed at for making waffles after he asked for waffles FIVE TIMES, I’m shut down with bids for happy stories.” I calmly shared that she’s not alone, she is honest, and I would be a rich woman if I had a dollar for every time I prepared the “wrong” food that I was badgered about. As I passed her coffee back – a screaming toddler was now at her feet – we thanked each other for the walk.
How many of us have been in this woman’s shoes? Either as a new mom or as a parent in a devastatingly hard moment, felt that the only thing the world wants is our smile? My initial reaction is to say that has never happened to me, that I’m great at the tough stuff! But it of course has. Whether it’s in public and I just want a controlled child at Costco or home when my children are having what seems like the zillionth fight at 6 am, I want that smile, too. Feels easier, right?
Sure – but it is also untrue. Whether our children are typically developing or developing differently from their peers, they are all this little bundle of untamed nerves, developing brains, wills of their own, and lived experience. Our children are divinely human, which means each messy part of them is showing itself at the exact right time. Yes, mamas, I’m chanting this to myself at 6 am but do not actually believe it until I’ve had my coffee with tears.
If we all expect our children to be happy and like the other children, we are silencing their truth. Just like the Instagram moms who shamed my new friend on the walk, we too shame our children when we cannot hold space for all their messy parts. Please do not misunderstand me. I do not think my, or your, children’s truth is that they are tiny barbarians who need to scream and hit before the sun has risen. In this scenario, my children’s truth is (ugh), “Mama, I’m too little to do the morning on my own. Will you get up with me?”
Wouldn’t it be nice if they asked that sweetly? Unfortunately, young children are almost purely limbic systems and their words come out in behaviors. When our children are struggling, their truth is just that “I am having a hard time.” Shaming them with a smile or expectation of perfection will silence them. Shining a light on their struggle with love, care, and guidance will plant the seeds for regulation even if it takes years to bloom.
Years, you say? You expect me to walk this turbulent path for years? In short, yes, but also no. You see, I can’t change for anyone that life is both deeply beautiful and breathtakingly painful. That is life. However, we don’t need to walk that path either blindly or alone. If we can force ourselves to witness the struggles in front of us without reacting to them, we can see them as they are. When we witness these struggles, we can then access something incredible – compassion.
In the throes of shame, it is impossible to access compassion for ourselves and our children; we’re too stuck in what shouldn’t be happening instead of what is. Compassion allows us to feel deeply that our struggle both belongs and is a struggle. So, my darlings, the next time you feel alone and tear-streaked, I challenge you this: place your hand against your heart and whisper, “This belongs,” and see if you melt a little into the moment that is. Then, take your brave soul towards your struggling child and remember, “This belongs, too.” The path to healing is rooted in your truth.
Xoxo,
Jessie Cooper
by Jessie Cooper | Oct 24, 2024
In my last blog, I took you through the origins story of Instructional ABA Consultants. In it, I shared my professional entry into applied behavior analysis (ABA) and desire for equitable care. What I didn’t share was what brought me to the field in the first place, which, ironically, is still what drives so much of my life today. I’d like to take you to that beginning in hopes that it will bring us together today.
In the early 2000s, I was a bustling new college student with a quest for knowledge. I have always been motivated to learn but this time I got to choose what I wanted to know. After the swift and painless death of the dream to be a professional actress, I settled into the campus of The Ohio State University. I loved children, loved to learn, and deeply disliked suffering. These together placed me in the College of Human Ecology where I was shocked to find an actual place on earth that wanted to teach and study what I loved! I joined the college with the hopes of being a kindergarten teacher yet my core interest was the impact of adverse childhood experiences on human development. I knew in my gut that our experiences in early childhood would shape the quality of our future. What I didn’t know was why the people hurting children were hurting them; I just knew it was wrong.
Education to Behavioral Science
While at OSU, I immersed myself in classes, research, and field experiences, and went as far as to write an honors thesis under the brilliant Dr. Stephen Gavazzi. In my work with Dr. Gavazzi, I studied the impact that negative home environments and race play on truancy. Each book I opened, class I took, and paper I wrote confirmed my belief in the importance of early childhood. What I couldn’t seem to understand was why others were hurting children and then why systems supporting children weren’t yielding better outcomes. As I finished my undergraduate studies in early childhood education, my focus shifted from becoming a teacher. I still had questions about why hurtful behavior happens and how through that understanding help can be provided. It was this very query that landed me at The Chicago School of Professional Psychology (TCS) in the fall of 2010. A year later, I joined a mobile crisis team in Illinois.
The years that I spent at TCS were eye-opening. I was surrounded by like-minded people who also wanted to know why behaviors occurred and the impact on the environment! Each day at TCS was like Christmas morning to me. The science of human behavior was exactly what I was looking for. Our science’s theory of human behavior is that all behaviors occur because of a person’s interaction with the environment. Behavioral scientists then observe, analyze, and study exactly why a person’s behaviors occur following strict scientific principles. In understanding why the behaviors occur, behavioral scientists are then able to create treatments to change behaviors. ABA can be used across a wide modality of behavioral treatments; my focus was of course on maladaptive behaviors and supporting autistic children. My work with the crisis team then broadened the population I was serving to adults with developmental disabilities.
How to Use ABA the Right Way
This is the work I’ve written to you about, that we still do today at Instructional ABA Consultants. We use the science of applied behavior analysis to improve the lives of children with autism and adults with developmental disabilities. Unlike so many other ABA companies, we still provide crisis support and my team now trains on Safety Care, a training program I learned over a decade ago. We also pay our RBTs a higher rate when working with our clients who qualify as a crisis because I know first-hand how challenging that work is – challenging and rewarding.
So what is it that the principles of ABA allow us to see that we cannot see without it? I used to think about everything when I was a radical behavior analyst. I was so in love with the science because it explained everything. Almost two decades later I’ve come to understand that ABA provides a foundation of understanding why behaviors occur.
ABA focuses heavily on observing what comes before and after a behavior to understand why the behavior occurs. We call this our ABCs – antecedent, behavior, consequence. By studying this pattern of behavior, we can almost always find why behavior is happening in the moment. What we can’t see is the vast undercurrent (or covert events) inside of the person engaging in behavior. The longer I’ve been in the field, the more I have come to ask.
“What can we see, and what can’t we see?”
Through this question, I’ve come to realize that a limitation of our field is that it is based on only what we can see. The answer of “What can we see, and what can’t we see?” is always a need not met. Hold that just for a moment; every behavior that results in pain is motivated by a need not met. Applied behavior analysis allows us to see on the surface what the person suffering is asking for, but does not look at the origin story of the wound. Personally and professionally I’ve come to believe that both are equally important.
What then can we do to negate suffering? A million and one things I’m sure. I work and live alongside people who truly believe all beings have a right to a life lived freely. To suffer is to be caged. Those million and one things are not for today. Today is to provide an answer to my question that perhaps will ignite compassion among us all.
Why do people hurt other people? They are hurting too.
Xoxo,
Jessie Cooper
by Jessie Cooper | Oct 10, 2024
Over the last five years, I have written as the owner of Instructional ABA Consultants, a mama, and sometimes a BCBA. You can reference my original blogs here Owner’s Blog / Autism Blog. Throughout the summer, my team and I have been collaborating on what could be meaningful for the families and caregivers we serve. Through that collaboration, the idea for this series was born. The series will focus on our corner of the world through the perspective of an ABA business owner, BCBA, and a mama walking in the trenches right next to those we serve.
With my pen, I will do my best to share the origins and work of Instructional ABA Consultants, the gift of applied behavior analysis, and parenting to serve our community. The service I hope to provide is connection, knowledge, and community. I know firsthand how defeating lonely parenthood can be and how connection offers healing. Let us begin as I walk beside you sharing what I hope will serve you.
From College to Company Founding
In the spring of 2010, I was midway through my Master’s Degree in Applied Behavior Analysis (ABA). Social justice and behavior analysis filled my every waking hour. It was only three years earlier that I was teaching preschool, wondering how my autistic students would get access to care. In those days I walked the halls of residential mental health hospitals bearing witness to what happens when children do not get that access and become adults. At twenty-three years old my heart broke as I saw the most vulnerable beings on earth with an immense lack of care. I was working on the Illinois Crisis Prevention Network with the most amazing mentor; Kim Shontz. My position during this time was a Board-Certified Assistant Behavior Analyst tasked with stabilizing the most severe cases in Illinois. I worked with children as young as three to the elderly with one goal: decrease their behaviors and increase community access. Doing this work during my Master’s Degree gave me the advantage of applying the science with the support of faculty.
The results were incredible.
In the two years I worked on the ICPN I had nearly a 100% success rate of meeting the team’s goal. Applied behavior analysis offered the tools necessary to decrease the behaviors and the ICPN’s resources allowed the individuals to then access their community. The issue here was that every individual we served was state-funded without insurance coverage for ABA. It was early in the years that ABA was state-mandated by insurance (2008 for Illinois). The state saw the benefit but did not provide that access to all its residents; the burden being on the consumer. In 2012 I chose to start Instructional ABA Consultants with the mission to provide care across all funding sources. I enrolled as a BCBA for state funding that larger corporations wouldn’t touch; it didn’t pay enough. With a caseload of 20 clients, I began.
What I witnessed all those years ago and deeply desired still rings true today. I witnessed a series of systems that were failing our children and adults with disabilities. The number of kind-hearted, talented people who work within these systems would astound you. Yet they are always working without enough. I would like to believe people who hold positions of power surrounding these systems know of their shortcomings. Yet as time has aged me, I’ve begun to realize that sometimes people only see what they are capable of seeing. Who among us could say they directly supported a system that at its best denied access to care to children and at its worst made billionaires off healthcare profit margins? As humans, it can be incredibly difficult to look at the harm we’ve created because we do not want to believe we have it in us. If each of us was so brave to witness this harm I truly believe it would stop existing. Our hearts would break and from the fracture, an equitable world would be reborn. That day has not come yet and so it is my job to continue to witness the shortcomings of the systems around us and tenderly hold my desire.
Our Greatest Wish
My desire is this: that all children are given the very best chance at life we can give them, that their families are held in support, and should we have failed them as children serve them kindly and well as adults.
I am lucky enough today to be surrounded by a team of BCBAs who desire the same thing in their work at Instructional ABA Consultants. While imperfect, we share the same vision of using the science of Applied Behavior Analysis to transform the lives we touch.
As a mama, with children who have also needed support from others, I now know how precious our work is not just from a professional standpoint, but personally. The sea of parenting a child whose needs are different from the other children can be a dark and swirling world. Yet the waves can calm as resources are offered that will uplift your family to shore. Wade with me darlings, perhaps together we can create a lifeline for all.
Xoxo,
Jessie Cooper
by Jessie Cooper | May 2, 2024
For all the mama’s out there I’m almost certain that the moment we found out we were going to become that mama is cemented in our mind. That tiny moment when the double lines show up or the phone call is made that your baby is coming home. Your world changes in an instant, your heart grows beyond what your chest can hold, and love and fear dance inside of you. A life, a precious life, is now yours for tending as it grows into full blossom. A life to love beyond what you’ve ever defined before.
I’ve had both of these moments; I’ve grown two beautiful sons in my womb and I’ve adopted. Each time the knowledge of becoming a mama to a new life came this love washed over me. The first time this happened was vastly different from the subsequent experiences because, well, experience…
When I became pregnant with Henry the excitement and joy of motherhood overwhelmed me. I ran to Barnes and Noble to pick up the bible for babies, “What to Expect When You’re Expecting.” Every Sunday I would leaf through my stage of pregnancy, “You’re a bean, a mango, a tiny watermelon,” in pure awe of “it’s eyelash week, you’re growing nails!” I could not get enough of the life growing inside of me. I spent hours on Pinterest designing his nursery and “style,” pushing my cart through Babies “R” Us with a veteran mama, and filling my home with everything Henry. The excitement was everything, becoming his mama was a joy I had never felt.
Eradicating Erroneous Expectations
I look back on preparing to become a mama and as I type it I have a deep love for myself. I was cherishing his life growing and floating in the wonder of becoming a mama. I can almost touch the younger version of myself, and as I do I murmur, “Oh honey, I see your love, how wonderful.” It is wonderful to hold love as you begin the journey into motherhood. It is also incredibly naive to think that rainbows and unicorns, okay Pinterest and Babies “R” Us, have anything to do with motherhood. Pinterest and Babies “R” Us have everything to do with marketing the idea of motherhood. As I pushed my first son into the world I was quickly indoctrinated into the real world of motherhood. Henry, my darling son, would not sleep for over an hour for six months with a livid refusal to be put down. Henry came to life and so did motherhood. By the end of three years, I had three sons aged 1, 1 ½, and 14. Today I have a 5, 6 1/2, and 18-year-old.
Over the past six years, I have spent more time than I can count sarcastically telling a friend, “They don’t tell you that in ‘What to Expect When You’re Expecting’…” Being a mama is the best and hardest thing I have ever done. I’m guessing that I’m not alone in this. As I write these words to you I’m continuing to navigate the journey of motherhood that I’ve just begun. Each day has tiny treasures, like warm cheeks at bedtime, and each day has something that knocks me on my ass telling me, “You’ve got a lot more to learn.”
My little sons are full of huge emotions and my oldest son is grappling with the independence of 18. What I never knew, and wish someone had told me, is that motherhood is both raising your children and rebirthing yourself. You will be faced with a million challenges both from your children and the world that surrounds them (and you). In each of these moments is the paradox of, “Can you respond as the sturdy leader of your family, or are you back in the dirt working through it, hoping to come out of it with either a solution, or peace, or both?”
Earthing to Center on Love
I think of those “dirt moments” as the ones that knock me on my ass. The times I shout and wish I wouldn’t, the times my children lay a line of my so hurtful I cringe, that one time someone who will not be named threw a taco because it had sour cream followed by, “Bitch!”, and every time the world hands us something harmful or hard that I’m supposed to have the answer for. This is the dirt, the earth, the raw pain of parenthood paired with the soft remembrance of the gift of earth and life. In the dirt I envision myself rolling my pant legs up, planting my feet (or cheek depending on the day), and breathing deeply into it. The salt of my tears dance with the dirt as I tap my own heart, “I am love,” I remind myself, “I am love.” In the dirt I tell myself, I have more to learn, that this thing that has brought me here again needs a tender, open heart to listen, and so I do.
The time I spend in the dirt is vastly different each time I find myself there. My youngest son likes to do this trick. He asks me my name, taps his nose, asks me what it is, and then giggles, “Jessie, nose, nothing.” My little man giggles, yet I touch my nose each time I am in the dirt because it reminds me that I know nothing of this world. Each moment of parenthood that has brought me here reminds me that I am also a life and a life that is learning. This willingness to sit with what I do not know opens my heart to my children and me. When I do not know what to expect, the only thing I can expect is to humble myself enough to be open to the love that brought these children to life.
Motherhood may not come with bows and Instagram-perfect feeds. By the time I was pregnant again, I bought a pack of Pjs. It turns out I cloth-diaper, breastfeed, and co-sleep my babies. It also turns out that raising a teenager is harder than holding a baby for six months. And yet, yet… Motherhood has everything I could not expect and more. Motherhood is carving me into the woman that has always been inside of me, allowing me to shape my sons into the men they will always be. Motherhood is a tribe within us all, knowing we are not alone as we raise ourselves and our children in this world.
Xoxo,
Jessie
by Jessie Cooper | Jan 4, 2024
As I sit to write to you this morning, it might in fact be the first time I’ve sat in a week. Well, sat without the echo of “Mom!!!” ringing in my ears or sat without shuffling to the next holiday activity. Like many of you, I’m coming off a week of Christmas, a family birthday, and a happy new year. I’m just going to say it, that shit was intense. On my drive home last night I called my sister, “Who decided this?” I whined, “Who decided that we’re supposed to spend an entire month planning for Christmas, spend an ungodly amount of money, eat more sugar than our bodies can hold, and keep a LIVE tree alive? Anyways, I’m pretty sure I’m Buddhist.” My sister laughed, followed by the validation of, “Rough week?” It was joyfully packed with gifts, family, parties, food, squealing children, and yes, exhaustion.
Tradition vs Reality
I’m going to be honest with you, I thought I had set better boundaries with myself around the holiday. I might have been boastful, “I only send Christmas cards if it feels right!” You know little comments like that make me feel as though I was choosing how to celebrate the holiday. I thought I was doing a standup job at this until one of the highlights of my week was realizing my closet has a pocket door. You heard me right, a pocket door! When needed I could slip inside for quiet, breath, and let the busyness melt off of me until I heard the ringing of, “Mom!!” This holiday season, for me, didn’t bring peace on earth, it brought life at its fullest and emotions at their highest.
Anyone else? Surely I’m not alone in trying to make our holiday special only to be left lying next to our partner with a fist bump of, “We did it” then crawling into a cocoon of sleep. Yes, my holiday was filled with Gingerbread houses, cookies, lights, presents (the everloving candles in the window that take battery), Santa, Christmas cards, cheese balls, ham, and sure, a little whiskey in the eggnog. Those tiny moments and activities did bring tradition and family together. Yet those tiny moments collectively stole me (and my children) from our presence. I planned for the holiday only to be whisked away in a flurry of my plans. It went well enough; tantrums came as well as laughter. But in my lifetime I’m not looking for, “well enough,” I’m looking for “rooted.”
What can be done in reflection? Of this, I’m not certain of the right answer. The truth is some of my favorite childhood memories come from Christmas. Not the gifts (ask my mama, I was not a gracious receiver), but the traditions and time together with family. I want to recreate this for my children and actually like doing the Christmas traditions. You can bet I still hide a pickle on my tree. You can also take a bet if, after a second morning of stealing Christmas candy before breakfast, I threw it all away. Any takers, do you think I did? It was like $50 worth of candy, and that my friends is the price of a cute crop sweater thrown away.
This little dichotomy is everything; tradition versus daily reality. I tried to build Gingerbread houses that had expired unbeknownst to me, we had tears. I tried to put ornaments on the tree after a Christmas parade, there was hitting over whose ornaments were whose. I tried to ice cookies at 8:00 pm, but there was a full-blown tantrum because I wouldn’t let my son mix the red one (Jesus help me, it stains!). I tried to buy what they wanted from Santa, but it was found during hide and seek becoming a gift from Mommy. This was then followed by the days of, “Why didn’t Santa get me…” and mentally screaming “Because Mommy is Santa and you still got the toy!!” This list goes on exhaustively of planning traditions and navigating life. The little mantra that got me through was “Maybe Christmas perhaps doesn’t come from a store, maybe Christmas perhaps means a little bit more.” The Grinch and my pocket door; saviors of Christmas.
The Bustle of “Should”
Has this happened to you, darling? Did you plan for a beautiful holiday season only to be knocked down by parenting through the holiday season? As you sip your coffee of the new year, are you also calling your sister exclaiming, “WTF was that?” I’m guessing to some extent all of us are because the hamster wheel of the American holiday is exhausting and children are tiring all on their own. Together, of course, they make the perfect storm for moms and dads alike. That alongside a healthy dose of wanting to make traditions perfect. I suppose darling, I got lost in the bustle of should.
I do not have a proposed solution from grappling with tradition and reality. The only thing I know to be true is that when I find myself lost in should, I have to shift and actively choose what my soul needs to thrive. If I want to be rooted, I have to choose to plant myself in stillness. Stillness is what I could not find this holiday. I am still determining what we’ll put down next Christmas (it will be something..). But I do know what I need to pick up today and through my next busy season is air. Air that is breathed in against the dashing stillness of life.
Intentional pausing, stillness, and breath are always a path back to my roots. My darlings, what were you doing because you should and what must you choose for yourselves to come back home?
I’m breathing in, holding my breath for a count of 10, and exhaling you all A Happy New Year.
Xoxo,
Jessie Cooper
