More Than “Life Skills:” Teaching Advocacy Through Occupational Therap
Welcome back to the Koi Wellness blog, your trusted resource for child development and empowerment. I'm Aya Porté, your occupational therapist (OT) who is passionate about nurturing children's potential and supporting cross-cultural families.
One of the most meaningful reminders of why I do this work arrived in my inbox recently. It was a full circle moment, from being told I would never succeed (read that article here), to empowering others to do just that.
It was a message from a former high school student I worked with, letting me know they had just graduated and were heading to college. They wanted to thank me for the short time we worked together—and to share how a single lesson, one they couldn’t fully appreciate back then, ultimately changed the way they understood themselves and their ability to grow.
Their story stayed with me, because it reflects two core truths in occupational therapy: progress is rarely linear, and feedback—when approached with curiosity instead of fear—can be deeply transformative.
Looking Beyond “Life Skills”
When I first met this student—let’s call them Hikari—the school had recommended occupational therapy to support “life skills.” But Hikari’s mother had a much deeper goal. She didn’t just want her child to function better in school; she wanted them to feel confident, explore their interests, and develop a sense of self.
That kind of request is rare. Most families, understandably, focus on academic performance or independence tasks. But she wanted OT to support who her child was becoming.
Early on, Hikari shared a dream: they wanted to perform stand-up comedy in the school talent show.
So our sessions shifted. We explored leisure interests, broke down performance skills, developed material, practiced delivery, and worked on self-advocacy around something they genuinely loved. OT wasn’t about fixing a deficit, instead it focused on supporting participation, confidence, and identity.
When the Answer Is “No”—Without Clarity
In the end, Hikari wasn’t selected to perform.
When I asked how they felt, they told me they were confused. They didn’t understand why. And more than disappointment, what stood out was their desire for clarity.
That moment became a turning point.
I told them something I believe deeply: feedback is information not rejection. And information is what helps us grow.
I encouraged Hikari to ask their teachers directly for feedback, modeling the idea that they had every right to seek understanding. Together, we planned the conversation, practiced what to say, and prepared for different outcomes.
What came back was honest and specific. The school shared that some of the comedy content—jokes about bodily functions and references to domestic violence—was not considered appropriate for the setting. They also felt the performance came across as under-prepared.
I disagreed with that last point. I had seen how much effort Hikari had put in. But the real lesson wasn’t about the talent show or comedy at all.
The real lesson was about learning how to ask for feedback, how to receive it, and how to decide what to do with it next.
The Email That Came Years Later
Years later, that’s exactly what Hikari thanked me for.
As an autistic student, they shared that they had often been told “no” without explanation—rules without reasoning, boundaries without context. Without feedback, there was no opportunity to adjust, learn, or try again.
That one experience taught them something different: that they were allowed to advocate for themselves, to ask questions, and to seek clarity. That feedback wasn’t criticism—it was a pathway forward.
That lesson stayed with them far longer than any specific skill we practiced.
This Is Occupational Therapy
Advocacy looks different across the lifespan. Young children rely on adults to speak for them. As they grow, our role is to scaffold those skills—to model, practice, and eventually step back so they can step forward on their own.
Therapy is rarely linear. Progress doesn’t always show up in session notes or short-term goals. Sometimes it appears years later, quietly, in an email from a young adult who remembers the moment someone believed they deserved clarity—not as criticism, but as an opportunity.
And those moments are why I do this work.
If you want to learn more about how I can support you and your child, you can schedule a call here and connect with me onLinkedIn, Instagram, and Facebook. Together, let's empower our children to become confident, resilient, and capable individuals.