Start with zones, not chaos. Set up clearly labeled areas for group instruction, independent work, calm-down space, and hands-on learning. Use visual cues, consistent routines, and furniture that literally sets boundaries. Remember: your classroom isn’t Pinterest—it’s a productivity machine. Structure it like one.

First: breathe. Then, analyze the “why.” Are they overwhelmed? Avoiding failure? Seeking attention? Once you know the function, offer a replacement behavior: shorter tasks, choices, built-in breaks. Keep expectations high, but your approach flexible. Compliance isn't the goal—engagement is.

Create data sheets that are easy and quick to use. Ensure that you are collecting data on the target behaviors and keep it simple. Aim for consistency, not perfection. Five solid data points beat 20 scribbled notes on a sticky.

Stay calm and predictable. Remove the audience, reduce demands, and provide a quiet space. Your tone should say, “This is fine,” even if your brain is screaming. Later, reflect: What triggered this? What’s the function? Prevention is the real intervention.

Break it down like you're translating Ikea instructions—step by step, with pictures when possible. Focus on goals, supports, and what their child can do. Use plain language and remember compassion goes a long way. Reassure them that you're a team and your goal is to help their child reach their fullest potential. 

Teach it everywhere. If Johnny can count to ten at your table but freezes at lunch, it’s not mastered. Embed skills in routines, role-play in new locations, and use peers when possible. Mastery = fluency + flexibility.

Be the leader they deserve, not the one who micromanages. Set clear roles, model expectations, and check in weekly. Use phrases like “I’d love your help with…” instead of “You need to…” And always show appreciation—because the best classrooms run like well-oiled teams.

Boundaries. Support. Systems. Repeat. Set office hours, use templates, say “no” to extra duties that don’t serve your students, and prioritize your own therapy, coffee dates, or Netflix binges. You can’t pour from an empty Stanley cup, —no matter how many you have.