Our NDIS-funded neurodivergent kids’ fitness class has been running for about a year now. I used to coach alongside others when the session was hosted by Move Play Grow Physiotherapy, where I just acted as a coach and drew a regular wage. Now that the physiotherapy place has its own gym, we’ve parted ways—and these days, I run the class on my own.
Before I go into my experience with the class, I’ll share a few details about myself, so you know where I’m coming from. I personally have a strong case of ADHD and have taken medication for over 10 years. The long-term effects of taking ADHD medication have had an incredibly negative impact on my life. Beyond a complete detachment from my emotions, I felt like I was weird and different.
I felt like I was weird and different. I wanted to save the kids from what I went through, and instead, try and embrace their differences.
Now, back to the experience of the class. I obviously want to save the kids from what I went through, and instead, try and embrace their differences. When the class was headed by the other place, the coach I was instructing with wanted to notify me of all the disabilities the kids had, and I actually didn’t want a bar of it. My aim was simple: forget their label and focus on core values that go beyond ability, age, gender, and background—the willingness to push yourself, humility, and working together. Abilities that, if taught right, will stick for a lifetime. That was my goal.
Please don’t think that the process went smoothly, as many mistakes were made. Yeah, some games just did not work, some exercises did not work, and every so often I just lost kids. We adults tend to forget that not everyone thinks like us, and once you get frustrated—oh boy… But you know what, I can honestly say that my heart was in the right place, and the kids could sense it.
One of the things that the kids taught me is that you can only plan so much. It’s best to stay in the present, have a broad idea of what you want to do, and adjust in the moment. The reason why this is so true is because kids are masters at reading people, and if you get frustrated, if you get upset, or if you just don’t want to be there, then you cannot hold space, and can therefore not truly reach the kids and instill important lessons. No, instead just try and create one moment where the kids overcome themselves—either through fear, failure, loss, and so forth.
Now that we’re on the topic, I’ll share another insight I got from working with kids: kids are oblivious to dogma. If something doesn’t feel right, children either don’t want to do it or do a horrible job. We adults tend to think we’re so superior, but we can learn from kids in this way. How did I learn this? When I came to Australia, I had a sport science degree under my belt, as well as a few years of coaching and personal training experience. I also had about 14 years of fitness experience, but the kids taught me something—they taught me that many of the exercises I did on a regular basis didn’t make a lot of sense.
Let’s zoom out before we continue. I’ve always been eccentric with my training. Yes, I’ve done CrossFit, used to run marathons, did plenty of barbell and machine work, but I always looked to rediscover the wheel, finding different ways to exercise and challenge the status quo. But it was only after I started coaching kids that functional fitness had any meaning at all.
Give a kid a barbell to lift, get them to do a pushup or a bodyweight squat, and not only will they risk hurting themselves because of a lack of body awareness—their technique is horrible. But get them to jump on a box, lift a ball, or push something away, and lo and behold: perfect technique!
If you think about it, it makes perfect sense. We as a species have a blueprint for human movement. We’ve moved a certain way for thousands of years. It’s only been less than a hundred years (50 even) that we’ve created this aberrant way of moving (e.g., barbell squat, chest press). Now, I can talk about this topic for hours, but maybe another time—back to the neurodivergent kids’ fitness class.
So yeah, focus on the kids, get them to overcome obstacles, and let the exercises make sense—cool. Another thing I want to mention is how these kids taught me the value of games—something else we adults tend to forget. Not only do games help you learn much faster (yes, there’s research on this), but they also help you relax and maintain a playful attitude throughout life. You should see grown men play games together: they start out super awkward but end up giggling and opening up—super fun to watch.
I’ll finish up with our most recent addition to the class, something that’ll give you warm and fuzzy feelings: neurodivergent teenage boys coaching the kids. I see quite a few kids on a regular basis and always try to get them to take the next step (emphasis on ‘them’ taking the next step). And two boys in particular have gained my trust over time. Interestingly enough, the two of them are like Yin and Yang—one tends to keep to himself and observe, and the other is super social and constantly looks to engage. I must also mention the second teenager has a speech impediment (important to remember).
So last week, the 23rd of July, we kicked off our first NDIS-funded neurodivergent fitness class with the two boys helping out, and WOW! Everyone that was present, and especially the social worker of one of the boys and the mum of the other boy, were just taken aback by how well they did. Not only did they feed off of one another, they were patient, excited, and had pretty decent ideas. Also, the boy with the speech impediment barely stuttered.
Learn more about the neurodivergent kids fitness program
Want to know how we’ve catered to neurodivergent kids?. Head over to our dedicated webpage to find out how this class differs from the other kids classes.
Now remember how I talked about dogma? If you forget what’s ‘normal’ for a moment, think about the effect of giving teenage boys trust and responsibility over younger kids, as well as a small monetary incentive. You have a winning combination—it’s how we’re designed to function, as a true community.
I cannot put into words how excited I am about the future of this class. It’s almost as if the universe has called me to run these classes, and remind us of our humanity. It sounds cliché, until you see it for yourself—then you’ll understand. I sadly don’t have kids of my own (except for three step kids that hate me most of the time), because my partner is a fair bit older than I am, so this is my way to feel a bit like a dad. To try and be a role model to the future generation, and do my part in preparing our kids for the ‘interesting’ future that’s ahead of us.
Further Reading: Neurodivergent Kids, Fitness, and Inclusion
