‍Part 1

Parenting is one of the most challenging — and rewarding — journeys we take. It becomes even more challenging — and potentially even more gratifying — when we’re parenting a child with special needs. 

This series of articles will explore how to apply behavior management strategies to help your child with special needs thrive. But first, let me tell you a little about myself to give you context for the ideas I’ll share. 

My name is Dr. Sora Yaroslawitz. I, too, am a mother of a child with special needs. Her name is Rochi. 

Rochi was born 40 years ago and had a highly virulent case of viral pneumonia at birth. She miraculously survived, but her ordeal left her with multiple special needs. Back in those days, support for parents of children like Rochi was almost nonexistent. Many, including my daughter and myself, were left navigating a vacuum created by indifferent doctors and clinicians. Well-meaning people often suggested that our children wouldn’t amount to much and that investing in them was futile.

At 22, I was told my daughter wouldn’t be able to accomplish anything. She was diagnosed with total deafness resulting from atrophied cochleae, lack of balance due to eighth cranial nerve atrophy, legal blindness, and autism. 

According to top physicians in their fields, this combination of disabilities meant she would never learn anything, and they recommended we provide her with a comfortable place to live without investing energy into her development. 

If you’ve never heard my journey, there’s a link below to the full story, where you can discover how these doctors’ prophecies were the furthest thing from the truth. Today, I’m blessed to be the grandmother of three wonderful, normally developing, healthy, hearing children, all born from this special daughter — the same child we were told could never learn anything.

How did we defy the grim prognosis? It’s a long story. The title is, “Hashem Can Do Whatever He Wants.” And there’s a subtitle: “Hashem has many messengers.” 

Numerous messengers played pivotal roles in facilitating this miracle. And the first glimmer of hope was ignited by a woman who is no longer with us. 

‍Stretching Beyond the Limits
Adele Markowitz was a Manhattan-based speech therapist who specialized in teaching lipreading to the hearing impaired. I met Adele when Rochi was 18 months old. Up until that point I’d gone from doctor to doctor, therapist to therapist, and no one was willing to work with her or offer any hope. 

Adele was the first person who said to me, “If you follow my method and do what I ask you to do, I’m prepared to work with your daughter.” 

At that point, I was so lost and so desperate that I agreed to do whatever she wanted. The alternative — simply giving up on my daughter — wasn’t an option I was willing to consider. 

That’s how I, fresh out of accounting school and with no prior exposure to special needs, got involved with behavior management. Adele’s approach was entirely behavior-focused. She worked alone. This was before ABA, before Floor Time or Sonrise. Adele had crafted her unique methods, sharing them only with parents of children diagnosed with hearing loss. She harbored a firm belief that children were capable of far more than what was commonly believed at the time—and she was right.

I became hooked. The process wasn’t easy. Rochi resisted the behavioral strategies for the first three years that I brought her for sessions. But we both persevered and slowly, every day was a bit better than the day before, and the transformation began to unfold. 

Time passed. Life continued. Breakthroughs, surgeries, and miracles happened. Other therapists slowly got on board to help me develop a comprehensive program that still involved traveling from Flatbush to Manhattan for sessions with Adele every day. At the center of all this frenetic activity was Adele’s behavioral plan that slowly shaped Rochi. 

When Rochi was nine-years-old, I began to breathe more easily. Moreover, I was utterly convinced that her emergence as a distinct individual was solely because Adele had tenaciously pushed the process, undeterred by any resistance. 

Becoming the Therapist I Needed
My relentless search eventually led me to speech therapists, physical therapists, shadows, and reading specialists who were prepared to work beyond Rochi's resistance, adopting Adele’s techniques. These therapists — and only these therapists — were instrumental in teaching her to walk, read, play with others, write, attend a mainstream school, and even ride a bike (the child who had no balance). 

Yet the quest for a suitable occupational therapist proved fruitless. No one seemed willing to challenge Rochi beyond her comfort zone. I was bothered by this because there were myriad occupational skills that were critical for Rochi to learn, and I couldn’t find anyone who could teach them to her. 

I knew that after my experiences raising Rochi, I would never be an accountant, and because I desperately needed an OT for her, I decided to go back to school and become an OT myself.  

OT school was both helpful and disappointing. While I gained invaluable insights into occupational therapy methods and skill development, which were beneficial for Rochi, there was no discussion about how children’s behaviors or behavioral changes impact their performance. 

When I completed my MA, I opened a private practice. I integrated some of the strategies I had learned from Adele into my occupational therapy sessions. The results were amazing. 

As the years went by, parents of my clients, noticing the positive changes, began to seek guidance for applying behavior management strategies to their typically developing children as well. This proved to be so successful that I went back to school for my doctorate in Rehabilitation Science with a specialty in Family Health. Subsequently, I developed an adapted behavioral program for typically developing children.

This program, known as the Hands Full program, started in the form of courses that I taught to mothers and private sessions that I did with mothers and fathers. It morphed into recordings, books, and audiobooks, and quick reference guides.   

My decision to devise a universal program stemmed from the realization that typically developing children generally share a common developmental and behavioral path. When the program is carefully followed by both parents, the results are invariably positive.

Throughout my journey, I’d occasionally get requests to write a book or to develop a behavioral program for parents raising children with special needs. I was reluctant to do this because every child with special needs is so unique that it didn’t make sense to put together a one-size-fits-all approach. 

By following the rule that one may never develop an approach based solely on personal experience, I hesitated to project my journey with Rochi as a template for others. 

So I am a mother of a successful child with special needs and also the creator of the Hands Full program, tailored for children who are typically developing. And then I was asked to merge the two worlds and create content for mothers about parenting a special needs child.   

After much thought, I decided to embrace this challenge. Not in the sense that I’m going to teach you a program and tell you that it will definitely be the right thing for your child. Obviously, I can’t do that. But perhaps, together, we can chart new territories. 

Are you wondering about the theory behind the Hands Full program and why it’s so important for today’s children? Do you feel that we have to do something for our children and future generations so the concept that “authority provides security for children” doesn’t get lost forever? 
Follow this column and we’ll explore that together.