Yuka Takushima
Author's note
I work as a freelance artist. I teach Origami and illustration and sell my artwork at local Arts and Crafts market. My artistic career is intertwined with my immigration experience between Japan, Mexico and the USA. When you live in a different culture (or two), struggling to understands the subtle nuances created by each language is exhausting. Making art has always been a positive experience and relieves this type of stress - which inspired me to become a Direct Client Coach (DCC) for Positive Development, a mental health clinic. That is where I met Krista.
I started going to Krista’s home as a DCC in March 2021. She was one of my first clients. DCC therapists work with clients diagnosed with autism and support them in their developmental growth and mental health. We use play therapy to communicate and build deep, long-term bonds.
Krista was 17 years old when I first met her. She seemed like an ordinary teenage girl with glossy dark brown hair and big eyes under the umbrella of long eyelashes. On my first visit, I observed her in an overlap session with her former therapist. Krista didn’t say any words during whole session. She was very obedient and behaved just like a puppet being manipulated by those around her. After the overlap session, I visited her four times weekly for one-on-one sessions. Krista had ADHD and anxiety disorders that were common in severely autistic people and was very sensitive to noises and change in the environment, often throwing violent tantrums. She pulled her hair fiercely and slammed her head with her fists. Krista could hurt people around her, too. There was an incident in which she grabbed my arm and clawed my skin to bleed. Krista’s tantrums are difficult to predict because she could be irritated by subtle changes in temperature or noise that are usually imperceptible to those around her or by her own mood swings. When she throws a tantrum, the people around her hold her hands down so she doesn’t hurt herself, put a helmet on her, and give her a simple puzzle. She is then distracted by moving the puzzle and gradually becomes regulated.
For the first few months, I desperately sought a way to support her. I tried anything I could think of. Krista’s parents were very concerned about her future and fiercely wanted her to use words to develop the language and be more independent. However, I couldn’t avoid feeling discomfort that there was a gap between her parental expectations and Krista’s abilities.
Krista doesn’t speak words, but she makes various vocal sounds. I mirror her voice over and over to create circles of interaction. Mirroring is the act of imitating another person’s speech or gestures. It is also an action that everyone subconsciously takes in our daily communication. When I started learning the second language, I remembered how I repeatedly used the words of native speakers. As I mirrored Krista’s sounds, I learned that she has her own language of sounds. I could feel her emotions in her voice. After a few months, I tried co-create torn paper art with her while mirroring her vocal sounds. Torn paper art, “chigiri-e” is popular art form in Japan, especially for young children with significant brain development challenges, as well as for the elderly people to provide moderate stimulation in their brain function. Shredding paper requires both hands using fingertip pressure. When Krista does that, she receives information like texture, color, thickness and wrinkles from her fingers to her brain. Then she hands those paper crumbs to me. I give her back those crumbs, and she places them on a blank paper between us. Finally, I tweak them with a bamboo skewer and glue them on. We continue this interaction cycle hundreds of times. By the end of the session, a mixed media art is completed. Over many sessions, I gradually added the tricks and techniques I could use with Krista. As mentioned in the story, one of the tricks is the string making. It was inspired by my childhood memory of my grandmother making small animals with a bunch of “koyori” strings using tissue paper. “Koyori” is a traditional Japanese craft technique that involves a twisted string made of washi paper.
In this way, Krista and I gradually co-created our style of therapy session in which the two of us moved our hands, danced our fingertips, did art, and mirrored the sound of our voices. Depending on the conditions of the day, Krista’s voice changes, and so does the nuance of our art. We sometimes giggle together, make silly noises, or just move our hands quietly. Krista turned 21 years old this year, and her emotions are more stable. She rarely hits her head with her fists. Through a long-term therapeutic relationship with her, I learned the importance of non-verbal interaction and benefits of art making.
Finally, I would like to express my sincere gratitude to xxxxx (All names of people who are involved in this book making).