The Holy Trinity of Harm: Why Quiet Hands, Calm Body, and Eye Contact Are Hurting Autistic Kids (And What to Do Instead)

You tell yourself you're helping them pay attention. You convince yourself that if they'd just make eye contact, sit still, and keep their hands to themselves, then they'd finally be able to learn. But requiring eye contact, demanding a "calm body," and saying "quiet hands" on repeat isn't helping your autistic students connect, communicate, or learn. It's doing the exact opposite.

I know this because I've been there. I've said those exact words. I've even created visual rules cards that I'd review at the start of every single session: calm body, quiet hands, looking eyes, feet on the floor. I thought I was teaching my students how to be "ready to learn", but what I was actually doing was teaching them that their bodies were wrong, their instincts didn't matter, and that my comfort mattered more than their safety.

In this post, I'm breaking down what I call the Holy Trinity of Harm; three outdated, compliance-based practices that show up constantly in schools and therapy rooms. We'll talk about why they're problematic, what they're really costing our students, and most importantly, what we can do instead.

Eye Contact and Why it’s Harmful

I recently went digging through my old files to find examples of rubrics I'd written over the years. I was hosting a workshop for my membership and wanted to pull from real-life examples. But I was honestly shocked by what I found.

There, in a rubric I'd written in 2019 (just six years ago), was a goal requiring a student to make eye contact with me. I genuinely thought I'd stopped doing that at least a decade ago. But there it was, in black and white. A goal I'd written. A skill I'd measured. A behavior I'd reinforced.

Now, I'm not sharing this to shame myself. I'm sharing it because I know I'm not alone.

Here's what we were taught: eye contact equals attention. Eye contact equals connection. Eye contact equals engagement. But that's not the whole truth! For many autistic individuals, eye contact is uncomfortable, distracting, and in some cases, painful.

When we force a child to make eye contact, we're not helping them pay attention. We're actually making it harder for them to listen, process, and engage. Their nervous system is now focused on the discomfort of maintaining eye gaze instead of absorbing what we're saying.

I think about that student from 2019. I remember his facial expression when I'd say, "Looking eyes" or "Look at me before you say that." He'd grimace. His whole body would tense. But back then, I didn't recognize it for what it was, a stress response. But now I see it clearly, I was causing him distress in the name of "connection”.

Connection and attention don't require eye contact. What they do require is shared energy, trust, and the back-and-forth rhythm of genuine interaction. So instead of requiring eye contact, notice if the child moves closer to you when you start an activity. Do they share joy with you through laughter or excitement? Do they position their body toward you, even if their eyes are elsewhere? Are they engaged in shared attention on an object or activity? These are all signs of connection and they're far more meaningful than forced eye gaze.

Calm Body or Quiet Body and What to Do Instead

Let's be honest. When we say "calm body" or "quiet body," what we really mean is: sit still and stop moving. We're not actually concerned with whether the child *feels* calm. We're concerned with whether their body is convenient for us. I’ve learned that for many autistic kids, sitting still in an uncomfortable chair for extended periods of time doesn't feel calm. It feels like stress, anxiety, or even jumping out of their skin.

Movement isn't a distraction from learning. For many kids, it's a prerequisite for learning. Their bodies are giving them signals like "I need to move to feel safe," "I need input to regulate," "I need to shift positions to stay focused." When we tell them to have a "calm body," we're asking them to override their own nervous system and that's not sustainable.

Regulation doesn't always mean stillness. Regulation means having the right energy for the task at hand. So instead of requiring kids to sit still, consider offering movement breaks throughout the session. Provide flexible seating options (wobble cushions, standing desks, floor seating). Allow kids to pace, bounce, or move while they listen. Narrate what you notice: "Your body is telling you it needs to move. Let's move together.".

When we give kids autonomy to move their bodies when they need to, we open up so much more opportunity for authentic learning and connection.

Quiet Hands and What to Do Instead

This one makes me the most frustrated — probably because I said it so many times without thinking. "Quiet hands" is often used to stop kids from stimming, fidgeting, or exploring their environment with their hands. While I understand the intention is often about safety or keeping kids focused, the phrase itself is loaded.

First, it's vague. What does it even mean for hands to be "quiet"? Second, it's often used to shut down all hand movement, including self-soothing stims like hand-flapping or finger-tapping. When we tell autistic kids to stop moving their hands, we're telling them that a natural part of how they regulate is wrong. Third, when the phrase is used constantly throughout the day by teachers, paraprofessionals, and therapists, it creates an environment where kids are being told "no" all day long. And that's exhausting for everyone.

Instead of saying "quiet hands" on repeat, prioritize proactive regulation earlier in the day. Ask yourself if this child is getting enough sensory input throughout the day. Are there moments when they're allowed to move, stim, and self-regulate freely? Are you creating space for regulation before seeing signs of dysregulation?

When safety is genuinely a concern (like a child scratching, hitting, or grabbing), offer support instead of a command. You can say, "I see your hands want to move. Let's find something safe to squeeze." or "It looks like your body needs something. Let's take a break together.". Your words matter. When we shift our language from commanding to supporting, we build trust instead of compliance.

The "Speech Rules" I Used to Use

I want to share something I'm not proud of. At the start of every speech session, individual or group, I used to go over a set of visual "rules" with my students. The visuals had four squares: calm body, quiet hands, looking eyes, feet on the floor. I'd point to each square and say, "What do we need to have?" and my students would recite them back to me like a script.

I thought it was progress when they could memorize the rules. I thought I was teaching them how to be "ready to learn." But actually, I was giving every adult in the room permission to redirect, correct, and police my students' bodies all session long.

The second a child stood up? "Sit on chair."

The second a child stimmed? "Quiet hands."

The second a child looked away? "Looking eyes."

It removed all presence. It removed all connection. It turned every session into a battleground of compliance.

Now, instead of starting with rules, I start by setting expectations for the adults in the room. I might say, "I'm totally okay with Johnny listening from the carpet today if that feels better for his body", "If anyone needs a fidget, a movement break, or wants to pace while we work, that's great", or "I'm going to follow their lead today and see where they want to take us". That shift from controlling the kids to supporting the adults changes everything.

How to Start Shifting Away from These Practices

If you're reading this and thinking, "Okay, I've done these things… now what?". I want you to know, you're not alone, and it's okay. The fact that you're here, reading this, learning, and questioning your practices means you care deeply and that's what matters. Here are some concrete steps you can take starting today:

1. Notice when the Holy Trinity shows up in your day: Pay attention to when you're about to say "quiet hands" or "calm body." Pause. Ask yourself: Am I trying to connect with this child, or am I trying to control them?

2. Reframe what you're seeing: Instead of saying, "He never sits still," try: "He seems to learn best when he's moving. Let's make sure he has lots of opportunities for that."

3. Talk about it with your team: Share what you're learning with the other adults in the room. Say things like, "I'm working on not requiring eye contact anymore. Here's why…" and "I've learned that movement can actually help kids focus. Let's try offering more of that".

4. Give yourself grace: You're learning. You're evolving. That's exactly what we should all be doing.

Shifting away from compliance-based practices isn't about being perfect. It's about being willing to learn, reflect, and evolve. When we stop requiring eye contact, when we honor kids' need for movement, and when we support regulation instead of demanding stillness, we create environments where autistic kids can truly thrive. We can do this not because they're complying, but because they feel safe, seen, and respected.

And that's when real communication and connection can happen.

Are you enjoying the blog? Then you’d love my podcast Let Them Lead! I chat about all things child-led every single week. Listen here!