All Students Deserve Functional Language
When I first started working as an SLP, the word “functional” was used a lot when discussing and writing IEPs. But functional usually came with a certain connotation. If a student was capable of stringing several words together to state a want or need in an intelligible manner, their communication skills were labeled functional. If they were in middle school or above (as my first students were) and could do this, they were considered ready for dismissal.
I fell into this trap easily, especially as a school-based SLP with a massive caseload. I was fantastic at dismissing students, and I wore it as a badge of honor. My fellow SLPs knew that I was great at clearing off a caseload.
Now, I want to interject here to talk a little bit about the mindset of school-based caseloads. We know that early intervention for communication delays is vital. With that in mind, understaffed school districts tend to divert SLPs to the younger grades. The idea is to get more boots on the ground for the younger students and hopefully meet all their needs before they hit upper elementary and above.
In practice, I’ve rarely seen that work out. Sure, some of that is due to the shortage of SLPS, scarcity of resources, etc. But part of it is…
Why do we think students stop needing language services once they reach a certain age? What made us assume that a sixth grader or a ninth grader or even a college freshman didn’t still have skills to improve or strategies to learn?
In 2023, I was given an opportunity I’d never had before. My teletherapy caseload shifted to include students who were enrolled in a partnership program between the high school and the community college. I was intrigued by the idea of working with college students. At the same time, my high school caseload included students who were far more engaged in their therapy than I was accustomed to. When I asked them for input, they had it. And their input was delightfully thought-provoking.
And the word that kept popping into my mind was functional. These are the kinds of functional skills that older students still need even if they can say things like, “I need help” or name some synonyms and antonyms.
All of our students deserve functional language. And we have to recognize that what is functional for one student may not be functional for another.
Here’s what functional means to five of my students this year:
Being able to use the correct vocabulary words and organize their verbal speech so that people understand them when they’re asking for help in a store, talking to a teacher or advisor about their classes, or talking to their boss when they don’t understand the directions they were given
Improving their vocabulary so that they understand more of what is going on in their college classes and at their job; being able to figure out what things mean when they’re not sure; learning how to pronounce new words so that they can both use them and say them correctly
Instead of focusing on listening comprehension for lectures and classwork, considering how their memory/comprehension skills will affect them when they join the military after college.
Moving beyond “I need help” or “I don’t understand” to get the help they really need on assignments because they struggle to explain what specifically they don’t understand in an assignment (“I don’t understand what this word means,” “I can’t find anything in the text that goes with that question,” etc…)
Exploring a variety of self-regulation strategies so they don’t always “have to” resort to leaving a situation entirely, yelling, or being physically aggressive (stomping, slamming fists down, etc…).
These students are all between 17 and 20 years old. They have eligibilities that include Autism, ADHD, Intellectual Disabilities, and Language Impairments. They all have language skills that were sufficient enough to tell me, either through explaining themselves or answering open-ended questions, what they were struggling with and what would make them feel like speech therapy was worth it. And every one of their concerns is consistent with the skills and strategies I can provide as an SLP.
We’re discussing different structures and frameworks for speech (narrative structure, expository structure, etc…), transition words, and planning. We’re working on word retrieval skills as well as repair strategies, circumlocution, and self-advocacy strategies.
We’re working on context clues and how to use them for not only reading but also in conversation and other oral language situations. We’re also looking into phonological working memory and will potentially be implementing some explicit phonological training.
We’re using relevant stimuli to practice listening comprehension strategies (key details, visualization, etc…). We’re moving away from academic stimuli because it’s not motivating, and we’re abandoning classic note-taking strategies because they don’t help. We’re also going to work on self-advocacy strategies and repair strategies.
We’re reading through a variety of directions and instructions, identifying key details, practicing recognizing the point of breakdown in understanding, and generating specific detailed questions. We’re also practicing answering follow-up questions to identify the specific need.
We’re discussing it-happened-to-them scenarios each week, talking about how they responded, how they felt, and how other people responded to or might have felt about the series of events. We’re discussing additional strategies and analyzing them to determine if they would be more or less helpful and have a more positive or negative impact on the overall situation.
Working with students in this way is kind of amazing for a few reasons.
First, it takes very little prep. Because I’m working with students where they’re at, I spend a lot of therapy time talking, questioning, and listening. As long as I’m familiar with the concepts and strategies that I’m going to be working on, I don’t have to reinvent the wheel every week. I take what they’re expressing frustration with and plug that into a few reusable materials: graphic organizers, lists of strategies, or a blank whiteboard for idea generation. It does take a little bit of creativity, as I often find myself quickly coming up with a hypothetical scenario based on the frustration they’ve just shared.
Second, it keeps things relevant to them. One of the hardest parts of therapy, in my opinion, is trying to do things that will carry over. Working from their experiences offers a better opportunity for generalization.
Third, it doesn’t take much time. Working one-on-one, most of these students only spend about 15-20 minutes out of the classroom working with me. And I usually find that’s plenty! We can talk about what’s going on, practice strategies for when/if it happens again, and discuss some action points for the week. They don’t miss a lot of class time, but they’re still getting language support. And that’s better than just dismissing them and moving on.
So, how do we know when it’s time to move on?
I’m letting the students be my guide. If the student has an idea and the drive to pursue that idea, we’re going to work on it. If we’re not sure, I ask questions and see where that leads them. Shockingly, a lot of students have no idea why they’re in speech in the first place! Once I start asking questions about their daily lives and how language might be playing a role, light bulbs often start going off. When you can give a student a practical benefit, their motivation usually increases.
If the student has reached the point of wanting nothing more to do with me (and the guidelines are met), I let them go. No more worrying and fretting over it being forever, either. I make sure everyone knows that if they find they need help later, a reevaluation is only a request away.
We’ll talk more about the specifics of my continuation/dismissal process soon. But for now, consider what connotations functional language has for you and whether they’re in the best interest of all your students.
Because all students deserve functional language. Even the chatty ones.
