The Day Everything Connected: Honoring Each Child's Communication Journey

In speech therapy, meaningful connections often happen in quiet moments rather than grand declarations. Today, I'd like to share a story that captures the essence of our approach at Speaking of Horses—a story about honoring communication preferences, building trust at a child's own pace, and celebrating authentic connections in all their forms.

Unique Ways of Experiencing the World

She arrived at our farm on a sticky summer morning, an eight-year-old with sparkling eyes full of curiosity and careful observation. She communicated primarily through an AAC (Augmentative and Alternative Communication) device, masterfully selecting symbols to express her thoughts. She had also developed her own innovative communication system—playing songs or video clips that matched her emotions, a creative and effective way of sharing her internal experience when conventional methods didn't serve her needs.

Her parents shared their journey during our initial consultation. Traditional speech therapy environments—with their bright lighting, enclosed spaces, and structured expectations—hadn't been a good sensory or learning fit for her neurotype. Yet despite finding typical therapeutic settings overwhelming, she had developed a fascinating relationship with horses. She watched horse-themed shows like "Spirit" repeatedly and collected miniature horse figurines.

This interest came with complexity. When her father had first taken her to see actual horses, the experience had been intensely overwhelming—her sensory system flooded with the new sights, sounds, and smells. She had responded with distress while simultaneously being unable to look away—a common experience for many autistic individuals encountering something both fascinating and sensorily intense.

It was this complex relationship with horses that brought her family to our farm—not to "fix" her communication style, but to explore whether equine-assisted therapy might offer a comfortable space for her to expand her already effective communication system in ways meaningful to her.

Honoring Communication Preferences

From the beginning, our approach acknowledged that all communication is valid—whether through AAC, gestures, vocalizations, or behavior. We recognized that being minimally speaking wasn't a deficit to be corrected but simply one aspect of her neurodivergent experience.

Our focus wasn't on pushing verbal speech as the ultimate goal, but on supporting her in developing the communication tools that worked best for her while respecting her autonomy and sensory needs.

We built our sessions around:

- Honoring her existing communication methods, including her AAC device and creative use of media

- Creating an environment where all forms of communication were equally valued

- Following her lead on interests and sensory preferences

- Building connections through shared attention rather than direct demands

- Offering options for expanding her communication toolkit in ways meaningful to her

Finding Comfort in Her Own Way

From her very first visit, we witnessed something fascinating. While she felt overwhelmed by our gentle therapy pony in the structured environment of our ring, she was drawn to the pasture fence where Red, my spirited three-year-old bay, grazed. Red was not yet a therapy horse—too young and energetic for our program—but something about him captured her interest.

She would approach Red's fence, reach out briefly to touch his side, and then retreat to process the sensory experience. Then repeat the process again and again. Her father watched with interest, noting this was an interaction pattern she had developed on her own terms.

I began to understand the wisdom in her approach. The fence created a boundary—a way to regulate the intensity of the interaction. With this boundary, she could engage on her terms and retreat when the sensory input became too much. Rather than seeing this as avoidance, I recognized it as self-regulation and respectful engagement at a comfortable distance.

Following Her Lead

For eight months, she never sat on our pony. And that was perfectly fine.

In traditional therapy models focused on predetermined milestones, this might be viewed as lack of progress. At Speaking of Horses, we recognize that meaningful therapy isn't about moving children through a checklist—it's about creating spaces where they feel safe enough to explore connection in ways that make sense for their nervous systems.

So instead of focusing on riding, we followed her lead and built on her interests. We played in sprinklers near the horse fields, an activity she enjoyed that allowed her to be in proximity to the horses without direct interaction. We explored the farm environment together, respecting her need for movement and sensory breaks.

She used her AAC device to communicate about horses, and we honored those communications by responding naturally, without pressuring her for more words or different types of expression. When she played a video clip to express excitement about seeing Red at the fence, we celebrated that creative communication rather than redirecting to verbal speech.

Most importantly, we followed her pacing while offering gentle opportunities to expand her comfort zone:

- Simply observing Whinny from across the ring, respecting her preferred distance

- Gradually decreasing the distance as she indicated readiness through her body language

- Eventually offering her the chance to feed Whinny Skittles when she initiated closer contact (they shared Skittles as both of their favorite treat!)

- Later, exploring the mounting block as a novel physical space, without expectation of riding

Each step was offered, never forced. Each preference was honored. Each communication method was respected as equally valid.

The Moment of Connection

It happened on an ordinary Saturday in her eighth month of speech therapy.

After her usual interaction with Red at the fence, she surprised us by walking purposefully toward the ring where Whinny waited. Without prompting, she climbed the mounting block steps—something she had explored dozens of times before.

Then came a moment of clear communication that still moves me when I recall it. Standing at the top of the mounting block, she lifted her leg slightly—a subtle but unmistakable gesture that communicated: I'd like to try this now.

With her father's supportive presence and my guidance, she settled onto Whinny's back.

The joy that followed was palpable. Her entire body expressed delight—a smile that illuminated her face, excited movements of her hands, small sounds of happiness. Though using few words, her body language communicated everything: This feels right. I'm experiencing joy. This connection is meaningful to me.

We didn't take a single step forward that day. Just sitting on Whinny was enough—a moment of connection that happened precisely when she was ready for it, not when our therapy schedule dictated it should occur.

Her father stood at the side of the ring, deeply moved. "She found her way to this in her own time," he observed.

Growth on Her Terms

The following week, she returned with newfound comfort in this new experience. This time, she ascended the mounting block with confidence and clearly indicated her readiness to sit on Whinny again.

While we still haven't had Whinny take a step—that will happen when and if she decides it's right for her—her relationship with the horses and the farm environment has deepened on her terms.

More significantly, this expanded comfort seemed to create ripple effects in how she engaged with her world. Her school speech therapist noted she was initiating more interactions in the classroom. Her parents observed she seemed more at ease in previously challenging environments. The confidence gained through being respected and allowed to set her own pace appeared to extend beyond our farm.

Honoring Each Child's Path

This story illustrates a philosophy central to our approach at Speaking of Horses: every child's communication journey is unique and equally worthy of respect. There is no hierarchy of communication methods—AAC, gestures, written words, verbal speech, or creative alternatives like using music or video are all valid ways to connect with others.

While sitting on Whinny after eight months was indeed a meaningful connection, equally significant were all the other connections that preceded it:

- Using her AAC device to share her interest in horses

- Developing her own comfortable pattern of interaction with Red at the fence

- Finding joy in parallel play near the horses

- Establishing trust with the humans in her environment

- Expressing her readiness through non-verbal communication

At Speaking of Horses, we celebrate these moments of connection, recognizing that communication isn't just about the words we say but about the authentic ways we engage with each other and our environment.

The Value of Patience and Respect

There's a profound lesson in this story for all of us supporting neurodivergent children: connection happens on the child's timeline, not ours, and it often looks different than we might expect.

Had we pressured this child to engage with the horses in more traditional ways, we would have violated her autonomy and potentially damaged the trust we were building. Had her parents evaluated "progress" only through conventional milestones, they might have missed the beautiful unfolding of her unique journey.

Instead, by honoring her communication preferences, respecting her sensory needs, and allowing her to set the pace, we created conditions where authentic connection could emerge naturally.

Every Child's Journey Is Valid

Every child who comes to Speaking of Horses follows their own unique path. Some children might immediately seek physical connection with our horses. Others, like the child in this story, may spend months building comfort with proximity before seeking direct interaction. Some might use their AAC devices throughout their time with us, while others might discover that the farm environment supports their verbal communication.

What remains constant is our commitment to meeting each child exactly where they are, celebrating all forms of communication, and creating an environment where connection can develop authentically.

For parents reading this who may be supporting a child on their own communication journey, I offer this encouragement: trust your child's timing. Honor their preferences. Celebrate the diverse ways of interacting with the world.

Because meaningful connection happens not when we insist upon it, but when we create the conditions where it can naturally flourish—whatever form that connection might take.

Speaking of Horses is a nonprofit organization that relies on the generosity of community members, corporate sponsors, and grant funding to continue our mission. While we accept insurance including Medicaid to make our services accessible to families of all socioeconomic backgrounds, the costs of maintaining our therapy horses, facilities, and specialized equipment far exceed what insurance reimbursement covers. Your donations make it possible for us to provide this transformative therapy to children who would otherwise not have access to these life-changing services. https://www.speakingofhorsesincorporated.org/donate