He told us!

Today something extraordinary happened in school. I was visiting one of my clients, a 7-year-old boy who is “minimally speaking.” He uses an iPad with TD Snap to support his communication. Usually, our sessions focus on exploring language, giving him opportunities to express himself, and helping school staff see just how much he can understand and share. As I unpacked my bag, he reached in and pulled out my iPad. Immediately, his teaching assistant told him off: “That’s not yours.” But I stopped her. Something in the way he held it told me this wasn’t about being cheeky or mischievous. I wanted to see what he would do. He opened the music app and began scrolling. Then he stopped and deliberately chose a very sad song. As it played, tears rolled down his face. He leaned into me, held my hand, and buried himself in my chest. In that moment, he was communicating in the most powerful way he could. We didn’t know what he was trying to tell us, so I called his mum. And then everything made sense. His grandmother was seriously ill in hospital and not expected to survive. No one had told him — because they thought he wouldn’t understand. But he knew. He felt it. And he found a way to show us. This was a lesson in listening. Not listening with ears alone, but listening with openness to all the ways a child might express themselves — through AAC, through gesture, through music, through tears. Too often, when a child is minimally speaking, people assume they don’t understand, or that they can’t possibly grasp abstract concepts like illness or loss. But this little boy reminded us that communication is so much bigger than words. He *told us* in the only way he could, and it was clear, true, and deeply human. Every child deserves to be heard. Every form of communication deserves to be valued. And sometimes, when we stop correcting and start listening, we discover that children have been telling us their truths all along.