When we talk about communication, we often say it’s about “sharing information.” But here’s the catch: true communication means telling someone something they didn’t already know.
I wish I could remember who said that first—because when I heard it, it stopped me in my tracks. It reshaped the way I support teams working with AAC users who are just getting started. I think about it every single time I walk into a classroom where students are learning to use augmentative and alternative communication (AAC).
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The Hidden Agenda
Let’s be honest—when a student first starts using AAC, we adults come in hot with a plan. We’ve got IEP goals, a pacing guide, lesson plans, and communication boards to match the curriculum. And that’s not a bad thing. We want students to participate, to learn, and to say things.
But too often, we end up treating communication like a compliance task—a way for the student to prove they’ve learned what we taught or to show us that they can perform a skill.
“What day is it?”
“Touch Monday.”
“What’s the weather today?”
“Say cloudy.”
Those kinds of interactions feel like communication practice, but they aren’t teaching real, autonomous communication. They’re asking students to follow directions, to match, to respond. That’s not sharing their own thoughts. That’s checking a box.
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AAC Is Hard. Let’s Not Make It Harder.
Using AAC isn’t just pointing and tapping. For our students, it’s motor planning. It’s visual scanning. It’s remembering what’s where. It’s doing all of that just to find the word that we told them they had to say.
It’s a big ask.
We have to recognize that responding on demand to a direct question is harder than initiating a thought. It’s harder to say “Monday” because someone told you to than to say “I want music” because you really mean it. One is performance. The other is communication.
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The Danger of Missed Opportunities
When we spend our time directing the student to say what we want, we miss their opportunity to say what they want. We crowd out their voice. We ignore the possibility of spontaneous communication in favor of “correct” answers.
And I get it—we’re working within systems that require data, goals, academic progress. But we can’t confuse cooperation with communication. If we do, we’re not building autonomy—we’re building dependence.
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So What Should We Do Instead?
Here’s what I tell my teams:
- Expect surprises. Real communication is when a student tells you something you didn’t predict. That’s the good stuff. That’s what we’re aiming for.
- Make space. Ask open-ended questions. Wait. Watch. See what they do with the space you leave open.
- Model like mad. Show them all kinds of words and phrases. Model opinions, jokes, disagreements, refusals—not just “calendar” vocabulary. * With a caveat: Try to keep the language you use just slightly above the child’s current expression. For example, if they’re using single words on the communication device, you can model two words. Don’t overwhelm them with full-blown sentences if they’re just learning to use their device.
- Honor every message. If they say something off-topic or unexpected—celebrate! They’re communicating.
- Check your own goals. Are you helping the student communicate their thoughts and needs? Or are you teaching them to repeat what you want to hear?
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Final Thoughts
There’s nothing wrong with wanting students to participate in classroom routines or answer questions. But let’s remember that communication is personal. It’s messy. It’s creative. It’s not always neat or accurate or aligned with the lesson plan—and that’s okay.
When we shift from measuring “correct responses” to building authentic, autonomous communication, we get closer to the heart of what AAC is all about: giving students the power to say what they think, what they feel, and what matters to them.
Let’s not teach our students to say what we want.
Let’s teach them to say what they want.
And let’s make sure we’re listening.
