Behavior modification helps autistic child
make strides
By DONNA CHIU, Staff
Writer
July 6, 2006
 A
year ago, Eric LeBow couldn't maintain eye contact, couldn't engage
in a conversation and couldn't behave in public.
Now the 7-year-old can do all those
and more, thanks to a daily dose of behavior modification.
Eric's parents, Bert and Tammy LeBow of Mayo, noticed something was
different about Eric when he was 2. He would repeat himself, put
things in a specific order and recite from memory whole sections of
dialogue from movies.
But they couldn't put a label on his symptoms until December 2005,
when Eric was diagnosed with high-functioning autism, a
developmental disorder characterized by deficits in social
interaction and repetitive behaviors or interests.
"It's just so easy when you get that kind of information to have a
pity party and feel very sorry for yourself and believe that you're
not going to succeed," said Mrs. LeBow, who works in loss prevention
for the Hair Cuttery.
"But we quickly got to a point where we said, you know what? It is
what it is, and we can spend forever trying to figure out what got
us here or we can move forward with it."
From then on, the LeBows saw two paths they could take -- medication
or behavior modification.
After terrible results from a brief period with medication,
including Eric's constant need to rub his arms because he thought he
was dirty, they decided to go with the latter.
That's how they helped Eric move from avoiding eye contact to
looking at a person when he speaks, from seemingly talking to
himself to engaging in conversations with others, and from blurting
out whatever is on his mind to exercising a little self-restraint.
"A lot of it's just repeating it, going back and getting the child
to ease into it," said Mr. LeBow, who works in the security
department for Prince George's County schools. "After a while, it
just kind of falls into place."
Eve Band, the Owings Mills psychologist who began seeing Eric almost
two years ago, said he has "come a long way" with this treatment.
"He has improved his verbal skills very significantly, and he has
improved his ability to use language in social way," she said. "He's
truly benefited from early intervention."
However, Eric still struggles with knowing what's appropriate to
say, as a bald security guard and overweight salesman can attest to,
Mrs. LeBow said.
"(Eric) just says what's on his mind," Mrs. LeBow said. "We think
it; he says it. He doesn't do it to be harmful; he just wants to be
a little Jim Carey in his mind."
Still, there is a time and place for everything, and Eric is
beginning to learn when it's appropriate to crack a joke or even
just be honest.
Before attending a funeral, for example, he and his parents put
together a social narrative, a common aid for autistic children that
demonstrates appropriate social skills for specific situations. In
this case, they made a book explaining what Eric should and should
not say or do at the funeral home and read the book every night with
him.
"We read it over and over and then he gets comfortable with it,"
Mrs. LeBow said. "By the time of the funeral, he understands it."
Although Eric doesn't write the storyline for these books, he draws
the pictures, not knowing that's also part of his treatment.
"Like Eric, a lot of autistic children are highly visual," Ms. Band
said. "When you support something verbal with something visual that
he creates, it helps him rework, process and remember the
information."
Now that the LeBows have the autistic part down, they're focusing on
the artistic.
"I think he expresses himself through his drawings," Mrs. LeBow
said. "It absolutely serves as an outlet. It's very relaxing for him
to do something like that."
A journal full of drawings represents the thoughts and images that
run through Eric's mind: a father penguin protecting his eggs, which
he saw on TV; a clown stealing money from an ATM machine; Tim Allen
transforming from person to dog in the movie "Shaggy Dog."
What jumps out from all of them is the detail and clarity, which Mr.
and Mrs. LeBow attribute to his astounding memory.
Eric's first-grade teacher, Helen Holt, noticed his artistic talent
from the first day. She was the one who gave him his journal, and he
showed his appreciation by drawing her portrait.
"If you lined up the teachers, you could pick me out of a lineup
with his picture," said Mrs. Holt, who has taught at Mayo Elementary
School for 33 years. "It's amazing that this little boy, being a
special-needs child, put his energy toward something so valuable."
Although Eric claims his identity as an artist now, he has his heart
set on being a "comedy guy" when he grows up. Why?
"To make people laugh!" he said.
It's the same reason he decided to sing to a crying baby at the
airport, his sister Amber, 10, explained.
"He doesn't like to see anybody upset - it makes him upset," she
said. "He likes to comfort people."
"Trust me, when you're hearing that word autism, it's like somebody
took a sledgehammer to your head, and boom, it just echoes off of
your skull for months," Mrs. Lebow said. "But when you do get to
that point where you're overwhelmed and heartbroken, you look for
the strength, because if you look deep enough, you find it. There
are so many strengths that these children have."
The LeBows want to contact other local families who have children
Eric's age with the same diagnosis. If you would like to contact
them, send an e-mail to bertamlebow@comcast.net.
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