What I Learned Teaching Mindfulness to Students with Special Needs

For the past five years, I’ve taught mindfulness and meditation at a Brooklyn public high school that serves students with significant challenges such as autism spectrum disorder (ASD), ADHD, and intellectual disabilities. In addition to coaching and teaching students, I also led weekly meditation sessions for staff throughout the pandemic, created a six-week Mindful Awareness and Resilience Program for families/caregivers, and, in general, wove mindfulness into the culture of our school.

This work has taught me so much, both about what is true for all of us, and what is different, depending on cultural, economic, and neurological conditions.

First, there’s what we have in common.

The students I teach often have a hard time sitting still. For example, a typical class I’ll teach has several students who might be “stimming” (unconsciously flapping arms, humming, or jumping up and down) which is commonly found in people with autism and sensory processing disorder. So I had to get creative: we practiced mindful shaking of the body, tapping, mindful walking, eating, and mindfully looking at nature. These became the main portals to presence for my students.

Of course, even those of us who are neurotypical often have trouble sitting still in meditation. So I offer my students as inspiration. Anything you do can be done mindfully, as long as there is sustained present moment awareness with an attitude of curiosity and acceptance.

Relatedly, I’d often check in with my students at the beginning of a session, so that we could determine what meditation practice would be most helpful depending on what was going on for them at the time. Really, this is true for all of us. If you’re feeling particularly distracted, a one pointed breath meditation might be most suitable. If you’re feeling particularly judgemental, harsh, or critical, loving kindness or compassion practices would be great. If you’re feeling restless and can’t sit, then walking or embodiment meditations are your friend. There’s no one best practice for all times; it’s better to have a variety of options to choose from, depending on the context.

I also learned about what we don’t all have in common, and how mindfulness needs to be adapted when working with marginalized or vulnerable populations.

One student of mine, Jasmine, has the tendency to ruminate obsessively on social situations where she felt misunderstood, or past traumatic events she experienced or witnessed in her neighborhood in Brooklyn. This perseveration is especially common for those with ASD. In Jasmine’s case, the thoughts, images, and emotions would consume her to the point she could not function or pay attention in class.

So, rather than try to banish these challenging thoughts, we worked on being mindful of them, asking her to observe thoughts and emotions with a curious and mindful presence. She learned how to observe and relate to her thoughts and beliefs in a radically different way: to be non-reactive rather than get lost or identified with the content of thoughts. She learned she didn't have to believe them, and could choose to let them go. Now everytime she sees me, she reminds me of her breakthrough by saying, “Mr. Tim, Mr. Tim! I had a bad thought, then I watched it go away! It’s not here anymore!”

But “simple” mindfulness doesn’t always work so smoothly with vulnerable populations.

One time, after a five-minute mindfulness breathing exercise, one student was visibly shaken, and reported reliving images of violence from his homelife. After some listening, processing, and contextualizing what happened, he was eventually able to try again the following week. But just “sitting with” these difficult images wasn’t enough. If you’re teaching vulnerable populations such as inner city teenagers, trauma-sensitive mindfulness practices are often essential in order to provide best outcomes, promote safety, and reduce risks. It was particularly humbling as a teacher to realize that something seemingly innocuous and profoundly beneficial for me has the potential to have adverse reactions in some students. Now I always teach in a trauma-informed way.

When I first started meditating, I was focused on alleviating my own suffering. Now, however, it brings me great joy to share and adapt mindfulness practices that can make an impact on others, especially those who are often left behind by the mainstream mindfulness movement. Not only has my own meditation practice improved, it is now grounded in helping others realize the power of awareness, wisdom, and compassion.