Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD) is a pervasive developmental condition which is characterised by difficulties in social interaction and communication, and in repetitive interests and behaviour (American Psychiatric Association2013; World Health Organization 1992, 2018). It is a highly heterogeneous condition and is probably caused by complex genetic factors and possibly environmental triggers. Whilst ASD cannot be cured, the focus of interventions is usually on support for children and their parents, for example involving speech and language therapy, occupational therapy, and educational support. There is evidence for the effectiveness of parent- or carer-mediated interventions for young children (Kasari et al. 2010; Pickles et al. 2016). In their critical review of how language has been researched and understood in relation to autism, Sterponi et al. (2015) distinguish three perspectives. First, research geared to characterising the distinctive features of the language produced by speakers with autism. For example, based on talk in an informal interview setting, Baltaxe (1977) identified a number of atypical pragmatic practices. Second, research that moved the focus to the functionality of these distinctive features. A notable example is Prizant and Duchan’s (1981) demonstration that, in interactions between children with autism and familiar adults, immediate echolia (the uttering of previously heard words or strings of words) can be functional. Third, research that considered how features of the context could impinge on the language use of persons with autism. For example Rydell and Mirenda (1991) showed that in adult-child naturalistic play sessions, when adults’ utterances were coded in terms of the level of constraint that they create, differences become apparent in how children respond. For example, high constraint utterances elicited more verbal utterances from the children than low constraint utterances. Whilst the examples just mentioned do not use Conversation Analysis (CA), research using this method can be located in the second and third perspectives (as Sterponi et al. (2015) indicate).

One line of research drawing on CA to examine interactions involving childrenwith ASD has focused on the particular capacities and challenges that they exhibit. For example, the analysis of echolalia in spontaneous interactions, and the identification of its potential interactional relevance, was a focus of pioneering work (Wootton 1999; Local and Wootton 1995; Tarplee and Barrow 1999) and also of more recent work (e.g., Stribling et al. 2007; Sterponi and Shankey 2014). The competences exhibited in a range of other verbal practices have also been examined (for example, Sterponi and Fasulo 2010; Muskett et al. 2010.) Maynard and colleagues have proposed that a careful analysis of actual practices in interactions show that childrenwith ASD have distinctive ways of understanding the world, which they refer to as “concrete competence” and “autistic intelligence”. They further propose that clinical testing procedures focus on second-order, abstract competence and thereby systematically exclude certain abilities that childrenwith ASD have (Maynard 2005; Maynard and Turowetz 2017). This latter point is commensurate with another line of research which focuses more on how neurotypical people interact with people with ASD. For example, Maynard and Turowetz (this volume) examine how a police officer interacts with a young person with autism. Another focus has been on delineating the interactional practices used by teachers and learning support assistants in educational settings involving students with autism (Korkiakangas and Rae 2013; Stribling and Rae 2010). In such settings, the professional party might know the child very well, but commonly they do not. One very important class of persons with whom many childrenwith ASD interact is their own family members. Previous studies have drawn on CA in the context of detailed case studies of individual children with autism interacting with a range of familiar adults (mainly family members) at home. For example, Geils and Knoetze (2008) and Sterponi and Fasulo (2010) each examine an individual boy with autism (aged 5:10 years and 8:6 years respectively) engaging in a range of activities. Yet despite the importance of such settings, relatively little is known about the interactional capacities and challenges that children and parents encounter.

Ramey and Rae (2015) draw attention to how domestic interactions between childrenwith ASD and their parents can involve a spectrum of different forms of parental involvement; for example, from the parent being present but otherwise engaged while their child carries out an activity, through to carrying out an activity on behalf of the child. Within developmental psychology, the importance of parental support for children’s activity is influentially identified in Vygotsky’s idea of the zone of proximal development (ZPD). Briefly, Vygotsky’s socio-cultural account of developmental psychology draws attention to the relevance of acting with others. In Vygotsky’s account, the ZPD is a metaphorical region into which a child’s competence can be extended through interaction with an adult or more able peer (Vygotsky 1978). Vygotsky also proposes that being able to benefit from such interaction is itself an importance competence. A distinct, but related, proposal has been made by Tomasello (1999), who suggests that the capacity of humans to develop technology relies on being able to learn from others which in turn rests on a species-specific human capacity to understand others’ intentions. A connected and influential conceptualisation of how a child’s capacity can be extended through the support of another is that of “scaffolding” (Wood et al. 1976). This metaphor draws attention to the idea that through carrying out an activity with parental support, a child might thereafter be able to accomplish it independently. The provision of parental support, and a child’s use of it, are deeply interactional matters. Nevertheless, as Wootton (1997/2005) notes, though highlighting the social nature of development, Vygotsky himself did not inaugurate a programme of research into how such interactions actually unfold. (There is, nevertheless a large body of research in developmental psychology that codes selected behaviours in order to consider how certain variables relate to support e.g. Carr and Pike, 2012.) The potential of conversation analysis to examine ZPD interactions was suggested by Jacoby and Ochs (1995). In using CA to examine the work of a learning support assistant (LSA), Stribling and Rae (2010) demonstrate the distinctive practices that she adopts in supporting a girl with autism in a mathematics class. They show how the LSA’s supportive actions are contingent upon the girl’s progress or the troubles that she encounters; this sensitivity to the local needs of the child (and to other features of the setting) thereby exhibits professional discretion. Ramey and Rae’s (2015) analysis of children with ASD interacting with parents at home suggest that in these domestic settings, the parents’ support is also deeply contingent and progressive in character. However, they also show that commonly in such settings, one class of situations that parents have to address consists of task-related contingencies which arise from properties of the setting rather than the child’s conduct. For example, getting materials or ingredients for an activity at hand might require a change in their involvement with that activity.

Such work intersects with some of the central concerns of interactional analysis in general and conversation analysis in particular. All social interaction involves co-participation to some extent. That is, when one party interacts with another, they are participating in something that is shared. However, in some circumstances the way in which two or more parties co-participate in, or with, something becomes more variegated and nuanced. Goffman (1981) did much to draw our attention to different forms of participation and to delineate and describe them. His notion of participation framework refers to the variety of relationships that other parties may have to a speaker’s utterance, for example as an addressee, as a hearer, or as an over-hearer. One line of conversation analytic work has concerned the detailed analysis of how different forms of participation come about interactionally, that is, how different forms of participation occur. Across numerous settings, C. Goodwin and M.H. Goodwin have shown how participants recurrently have choices about how to co-participate with unfolding action (e.g. C. Goodwin 2007, 2018; M.H. Goodwin 1997). In the course of an analysis of classroom interaction, and how the teacher’s design of questions may turn out to include a child’s name and thereby be addressed to that particular child, Lerner (1995) uses the term “participation opportunities” to refer to specific interaction moments where participation may, or may not be, relevant or necessary. (Rae 2001 offers an analysis of the transforming of participation frameworks and a critical discussion of the concept.)

Whilst the situations in which a party might come to be involved with an activity that another party is engaged in are manifold, one situation concerns the provision of assistance. Recently, the concept of recruitment has been proposed to describe how one party can become involved with a practical course of action that another party is engaged in, or is attempting to carry out, when the latter encounters a trouble, or is anticipated to encounter a trouble (Kendrick and Drew 2016). Through applying CA to videorecordings of adults interacting in a range of everyday settings, Kendrick and Drew propose that a distinction can be drawn between the method through which a party comes to be recruited on the one hand and how the trouble becomes recognizable on the other. For example, a person who is not visibly encountering a trouble might request assistance. In another situation, a person’s trouble might be visibly embodied and thereby display the relevance of assistance. In a further situation, a trouble might be anticipated and the relevance of assistance can be projected. A range of such possibilities is shown in the upper two rows of Table 3.1. Kendrick and Drew further propose that these situations constitute a continuum; who initiates assistance varies from self (the party who might benefit from being assisted) to other (the party giving assistance), and the pressure to assist varies from being an obligation to being an opportunity.

Table 3.1 The recruitment continuum

Although Kendrick and Drew’s (2016) empirically-based analysis of recruitment was developed in the context of adult interaction, it has relevance for the analysis of assistance in child-parent interaction. The nature of troubles that arise, the methods of recruitment, the dimensions concerning who initiates assistance and the relevance of that assistance, are all relevant in the empirical analysis of Vygotskian support in the ZPD, or of scaffolding. However, it should be noted that not all forms of facilitation involve actively providing assistance. For example, Ramey and Rae (2015) show that when addressing task-related contingencies (such as getting relevant materials), a parent might partially withdraw from an activity that a child is engaged in and this can apparently facilitate the child’s progression of that activity. The present study aims to extend Ramey and Rae’s (2015) analysis of how parents of children with ASD facilitate activities at home by further analysis of how co-participation is managed, and of how this relates to Kendrick and Drew’s (2016) recruitment continuum. As such, it aims to complement research in developmental psychology into the play of children with ASD (for example Freeman and Kasari 2013) and to contribute to our understanding of how the participation of children with ASD can be supported and facilitated in everyday, domestic settings.

Method

In order to examine the situated ways in which parents provide support to children with autism, the present study uses conversation analysis to examine a single session of activity in which Ben, a 12-year old boy with autism spectrum disorder, interacts with his father while playing with a construction game at home. This episode (8 minutes 19 seconds duration) was collected as part of set of video recordings, made with consent, of four children interacting at home with relatives, friends and a friend’s relative. These data were recorded in the South of England; the participants speak British English. The session was transcribed in full using the standard conventions used in CA to capture talk and visible action (Hepburn and Bolden 2012). Although CA commonly draws on data involving multiple participants in a range of settings, especially when studying neurotypical participants, the analysis of single conversations can be informative. In particular, when studying atypical interaction, the detailed examination of specific participants on specific occasions can be necessary in order to understand the distinctive practices that those participants use. The analysis of multiple instances of interactional practices within single conversations or sessions of activity involving a participant with ASD has been used to identify particular ways in which co-interactants respond in order to propose general challenges encountered by persons with ASD (e.g. Rendle-Short 2002, with respect to Asperger Syndrome) and/or to formulate generalisable competences exhibited by co-interactants (e.g. Stribling and Rae 2010, with respect to learning support assistants).

Unlike some domestic activities which provide opportunities for the child to direct what happens (for example the pottery session described in Ramey and Rae 2015) the construction activity examined here is largely directed by the father. Rather than approaching the data in terms of a theory, the study uses CA in an attempt to understand parts of the session in their own terms. Here, whilst the analysis is informed by an understanding of phenomena that CA has previously identified, as with all CA work, the aim is to understand what these participants are doing rather than to see their conduct as a screen onto which previously identified phenomena can be projected or through which a theory can be tested. A key policy is to think in terms of what Schegloff and Sacks (1973) propose is a pervasive question for participants in interaction: “why that now?”—why did that person do that thing at this time. Furthermore, participants’ actions in interaction are understood to be both responsive to what has happened and generative of a new happening; they are “context shaped” and “context renewing” (Heritage 1984, p. 290). As such, analysis requires the examination of stretches of interaction such that actions can be examined in terms of the sequential environment in which they occur. The approach taken here was to examine the data in terms of how the participants create opportunities for each other.

In the session, Ben is seated at a large table, with his father (Dad) to his right. Dad has a construction game in front of him. The game consists of 24 items, each held behind a numbered flap in the box. Each item consists of a small number of plastic components. A pictorial guide on the box shows (in outline) how the pieces should be fitted together to assemble an item. After initially selecting item “number 13” and discovering that they have already completed this item, they move onto “number 14” and proceed to assemble that. In addition to the construction game, a further toy is played with in the session: a sound effects box. This has an array of 16 buttons which, when pressed, produce one of a number of humorous sound effects. Whilst the assembly of “number 14” is a continued focus of the setting, it is important to note that, at one time or another, other activities become the activity of the moment. In particular, there is a bout of father-son physical play; another spate of joint action involves Ben using one of the components as a pretend probe. Then at other times there are activities which Ben engages in more-or-less unilaterally such as sliding a book onto the floor and there are episodes of moving about.

Analysis

The analysis will begin by showing how the father makes use of multimodal directives to structure the setting. We then show how these can be designed so as to facilitate responding and how support can be provided if the child encounters trouble in responding to the directive. We then turn to a consideration of the issues raised by the child attending to other matters or engaging in competing courses of action.

Directives

One key resource that occurs in the organisation of the session is Dad’s use of instructions that propose that Ben should do something. Extract 1Footnote 1 shows a sequence from early in the session. This sequence is initiated by Dad saying “Can you find number fourteen for me” (line 35). In response, Ben opens the correct box (line 039), and receives a congratulatory response from Dad, “That’s right. Well done” (lines 040–041). (This example is also examined in Ramey and Rae 2015.)

Extract 1 [MR2012 Benjamin & Dad Table] Fourteen

The stretch of action shown in Extract 1 fundamentally consists of a sequence built of out of two actions, an initiating action (the instruction) and the responsive action (complying with the instruction). Such two-part sequences are fundamental to social interaction. Whilst adjacency pairs involve two talk-implemented actions (Schegloff 2007), here the implicated responsive action is not talk but rather visible action. (The circumstance under which recipients of such actions do produce talk has been examined by Stevanovic and Monzoni 2016.) Grammatically, Dad’s action is built as a yes/no polar question, using a modal verb (“can you”). However, whilst this is grammatically a question, it is not a request for information but rather an instruction formulated as a request. Such expressions, which seek to get another party to do something, have come to be referred to generally as directives (Ervin-Tripp 1976). As such, the term appears to be derived from Searle’s (1975) typology of speech acts and should not be understood in the non-technical sense of a “directive” as an authoritative order or ruling. (It was probably precisely to avoid confusions with vernacular terms that led Austin to use invented terms in his original analysis of what he called “illocutionary acts” [Austin 1955/1962]. He placed “order”, “command”—along with “warn” and “advise”, in a class which he called “exercitives” which he described as “…the giving of a decision in favour of or against a certain course of action, or advocacy of it.” [p. 154].) Indeed, the gradation of authority, or lack of it, has been a prominent feature of the recent sustained analysis of directives in talk-in-interaction in recent CA research (e.g. Craven and Potter 2010; Curl and Drew 2008; Drew and Couper-Kuhlen 2014; Kent 2012; Kent and Kendrick 2016; Heinemann 2006); their use in family settings has been specifically examined by Aronsson and Cekaite (2011) and Goodwin and Cekaite (2013, 2014). In their study of how children with autism respond differently to parents’ high constraint and low constraint utterances, Rydell and Mirenda (1991) cite directives as one example of high constraint utterances.

The interactional force of sequence-initiating actions is widely exploited in institutional settings such as calls to emergency services (e.g. Zimmerman 1992) and by teachers in classroom interactions. In fact, in Extract 1 the participants’ production of an initiating action, a responsive action and a sequence-closing third action shows a structure which is highly ubiquitous in classroom settings and which has been described in terms of initiation-response-evaluation (or feedback) sequence (Sinclair and Coulthard 1975; Mehan 1979). Whilst sequence-initiating actions in general, and directives in particular, might be thought of as having a unilateral character in which an obligation is placed on the recipient, the other side of this coin is that they also thereby provide a structured opportunity for participation (see Lerner 1995 for an analysis of teacher-initiated sequence in classroom settings). In other words, in the midst of Dad’s and Ben’s other activities, directives provide places which are specifically geared to enabling Ben to co-participate and to thereby create sites for co-operation (C. Goodwin 2018).

The production of Dad’s directive contains a number of elements that appear to be geared to supporting Ben in responding. First, the target is produced with deliberate enunciation “number fourteen” (037). Second, in addition to the talk-based features of the directive, Dad also uses multimodal resources. As he produces his turn, he brings his gaze to Ben and simultaneously rotates the box slightly towards him. These two visible actions support the directive in suggesting that a response from Ben is relevant; moreover, the way in which the box is rotated brings the target item closer to Ben. Dad thereby uses multimodal resources to support Ben’s responding.

After an item has been selected from the box, the session largely (but by no means entirely) involves assembling the separate pieces. Extract 2 shows one such episode. Having concluded a stretch of pretend fighting, Dad calls Ben a cheeky rascal (235) and, positioning pieces on the table, summons Ben’s attention. Ben continues with an activity which apparently relates to the pretend fighting by producing a directive of his own to the effect that his father should pretend to cry (237); Dad obliges (238) and Ben then sits forward and engages with the pieces while producing what appears to be an echolalic utterance. Here Dad uses the directive “Can you put this on top of there” (240).

Extract 2 [MR2012 Benjamin & Dad Table] don’t be mean

Dad’s use of the indexical expressions, “this” and “there” provide a linkage between his talk and objects in the world, namely the small components that he is handling and presenting to Ben. (The use of indexical expression, or pro-terms, to link talk to objects is a ubiquitous feature of talk in object-related settings, e.g. C. Goodwin 2018.) Thus here, Dad’s directive is produced multimodally and brings together talk, bodily orientation and material objects to provide a conspicuous instruction at just this moment. A feature of Dad’s embodied display is that the bodily positioning that he adopted when he summoned Ben (line 236) is sustained through the crying game, suggesting that the pretend crying was accommodated within an over-arching activity (compare Schegloff 1998 on sustaining the position of the body during a subsidiary episode of talk.)

We shall now examine two ways in which the basic directive-response-confirmation sequence can be extended. In Extracts 1 and 2, Ben successively responds to Dad’s directives and retrieves the correct item from the box within one second. Extract 3 shows another sequence (from earlier in the session) in which Ben less readily addresses the directive. Here, Dad issues the directive “Can you find number thirteen” (09) and after about one second, Ben reaches towards the box, but apparently not towards the correct item (10). Ben subsequently reaches towards the correct item (16) and receives confirmation and congratulations from Dad (17). (This example is also considered in Ramey and Rae 2015.)

Extract 3 [MR2012 Benjamin & Dad Table] Thirteen

As in Extract 1, around one second after the completion of Dad’s directive, Ben reaches towards the box but on this occasion he evidently has some trouble in locating the correct item. (The nature of the trouble should not be assumed to lie in an inability on Ben’s behalf. It subsequently transpires that they have previously completed item 13. It is thus possible that Ben might be performing an operation that relates to this.) Dad seeks to address Ben’s apparent trouble by repeating the number of the item, with exaggerated articulation, “Thirtee:na:” (line 011); reformulating the instruction “Where’s thirteen” (line 014); and he starts, but curtails, a further repeat (line 016). Dad thereby offers situated support in order to assist Ben, that is, the support that he offers is context dependent, it is contingent upon the course of Ben’s actions. (The re-presentation of initiating actions in IRE exchanges has been examined by Zemel and Koschmann 2011. This sequence and other cases are examined and compared to prompts and supportive actions in a therapy session in Rae and Ramey, in preparation.)

In Extract 3 then, we see how, in this setting, a basic directive-response sequence can be expanded by the initiating party to include prompts or pursuits. In terms of the recruitment continuum, Dad’s initial involvement with the unfolding course of action can be understood in terms of his addressing a trouble that is displayed in Ben’s embodied response. This extract also shows how the recipient of assistance has resources for resisting the pressure that these prompts can impose.

Selectively Responding to Competing Interests and Activities

Although Ben displays trouble in locating item thirteen in Extract 3, he is nevertheless appropriately oriented to the task that Dad has set him—a point which he makes in his utterance “thirteen wait”. (Stribling et al. 2007 suggest that repetitions in the talk of a child with ASD can similarly be used to indicate engagement with a task.) However, on some occasions, Ben shows engagement with concerns that are apparently extraneous to the activities that Dad seeks to engage him in. Extract 4 shows such an example. Just prior to the episode shown in Extract 1, Dad confiscates the sound effects box. As he puts it to one side, Ben produces an utterance involving a proper noun which is apparently unrelated to the current activities “It should be Washington”. (This appears to be an example of delayed echolalia; the production of a previously heard verbal expression.) (This fragment is also considered in Ramey and Rae 2015.)

Extract 4 [MR2012 Benjamin & Dad Table] <Ramey and Rae 2015>

On this occasion, Dad does not respond to Ben’s echolalic utterance but proceeds to produce the directive, “Can you find number thirteen” (as examined in Extract 1). However, although Dad does not respond to Ben’s utterance, he does not ignore it because the production of his directive does not overlap with it but is apparently fitted to its completion. Dad might be responding to the fact that, although Ben’s utterance appears to be addressing an extraneous concern, as Ben produces it, he orients his gaze to the Lego box and is thereby appropriately aligned, at least spatially. (It is possible that Ben’s difficulty in locating item 13 involves being distracted by a concern that relates to his utterance in (008)). Yet on other occasions Dad responds to apparently unrelated utterances. For example, in Extract 5, whilst Dad is talking (043) Ben interjects with “Good bye” (044).

Extract 5 [MR2012 Benjamin & Dad Table] Good bye

In this case, Dad explicitly addresses the concerns that Ben appears to be speaking to. He enacts a disappointed response cry (Goffman1981; Aarsand and Aronsson 2009) “ohoh” and counters Ben’s “Good bye” by saying he is not going away and asking if Ben wants him to go away (046). Dad also occasionally responds to extraneous visible actions. For example in Extract 5, while Dad is fitting pieces together, Ben vigorously propels a spiral-bound book across the table such that it crashes to the floor.

Extract 6 [MR2012 Benjamin & Dad Table] Oops

Dad responds to the book flying off the table with a response cry (line 062), Ben laughs, and Dad resumes his talk figuring out how pieces are to be assembled. Unlike the case in Extract 3, in Extracts 4 and 5, Dad specifically responds to the extraneous activities that Ben is engaged in. Dad’s responses are consistent with an analysis of these cases in terms of the extent to which they constitute troubles, or challenges. Namely, in Extract 5, the book flying off the table and crashing to the floor can be understood to be an untoward event, and in Extract 4, the implication that Dad is going away would be a challenge to the progress of working together on the construction activity. Whereas in Extract 3, although Ben’s utterance appears to have no relevance for the construction activity, his gazing at the Lego box suggests that it does not challenge working on the construction activity. In Extracts 5 and 6 Ben produces an action which is apparently unrelated to the ongoing construction task, yet Dad responds to it. (A contrast and comparison can be made with side-sequences [Jefferson 1972] in which an activity occurs that whilst not part of an ongoing activity appears to be relevant for it.)

Extract 7 shows another example of co-participation with the sound box. Here, Dad issues an instruction “Now. (.) you put tha piece on top” (206). Following a prompt, “across there” (208), Ben successfully pushes the two pieces together (209) and receives a postitive evaluation “Good boy well done” (210). Having congratulated Ben on this achievement, Dad proceeds to the next subtask “let’s see what’s next” and starts to talk to it as a next item of business “an’ then” (211) (compare Heritage and Sorjonen 1994). However in the meantime, Ben reaches across Dad to the sound effects box and triggers a stock fanfare melody which involves a hiatus and a final pair of beats (213 and 215).

Extract 7 [MR2012 Benjamin & Dad Table] bom bom

Although the fanfare is competing with Dad’s proceeding to the next item, Dad shows that he recognises this is a celebration of the recent achievement and produces a celebratory “yay” (214) and co-participates in the production of the final two beats (216). Here then, Ben has produced an action (the celebratory sound effect) which is somewhat misplaced sequentially—Dad has already congratulated Ben and has moved on the next item. Nevertheless, Dad ratifies and co-particpates with this course of action.

Whilst Ben’s use of the soundbox in Extract 7 can be understood to be sequentially appropriate—celebrating fitting the pieces together—on some occasions the sound box is less relevantly fitted to the concurrent activities and engagement with it is resisted by Dad. In Extract 8, as Dad says “Then: that piece goes on there?” (127), his gaze and hands indicating the piece and location that he is referring to, Ben reaches over Dad to the sound effects box and sets off a breaking glass sound effect (129–131). Subsequently, Dad re-does the directive (133); after further interaction, Ben apparently fits the pieces together and receives praise from Dad (not shown in the extract).

Extract 8 [MR2012 Benjamin & Dad Table] Crash bang wallop

In producing the initial directive in (127), then, Dad is faced with a common enough interactional situation: seeking to interact with a participant who is not properly aligned for his project but is engaged in a competing course of action. Dad’s initial response to this state of affairs is to attempt to summon Ben’s attention back to the pieces which he is holding on the table. He attempts to do this verbally: “Here here here” (128). Nevertheless Ben proceeds with setting off a breaking glass sound effect (129–131). As this unfolds, Ben and Dad look at each other and Dad makes a disappointed vocalisation, apparently responding theatrically to the calamity represented by the breaking glass (130). Dad then turns his attention back to the pieces (132) and as the sound effect winds down, produces the stock onomatopoeic expression “crash bang wallop”, theatrically commentating on the sound effect. He then reproduces a directive, “There you go (.) put that on there?”. In this stretch then, two different practices are used in response to Ben’s engagement with a competing course of action. First, Dad attempts to redirect Ben’s attention back to the task. However, he then co-participates with the competing events. Conspicuously, he does not ignore, or side-step, the intervening course of action, but explicitly acknowledges it. As with the book flying off the table, he responds by displaying an assessment of the course of action that Ben engendered. As such he appears to complete, and thereby bring to an end, the extraneous activity that Ben set in motion.

Ben’s production of extraneous activities is an important resource for the creation of new opportunities for participation. In Extract 9, as Dad fiddles with some pieces, Ben slaps him playfully while producing a vocalisation (line 217), then punches him (line 219). Dad continues to speak to concerns relating to his progress with the pieces by saying “Okay” (line 220) but then responds to being hit again (221) with a playful admonishment and a response to yet another blow (line 223). This leads to a round of play fighting (224–226) which Ben terminates with a directive, “Stop it” (line 227).

Extract 9 [MR2012 Benjamin & Dad Table] don’t be mean

Having terminated this play fighting, Ben playfully (but quite forcibly) slaps Dad’s head (231). Dad responds to this, not by retaliating, but with a verbal characterisation of Ben’s wiliness (“Cheeky Boy”, “Cheeky Rascal” lines 234, 235) and attempts to get the construction activity back on track. Nevertheless, Ben instructs him to pretend to cry and Dad obliges with a theatrical boo-hoo type expression. As a result of Dad’s responsiveness to Ben’s extraneous actions (his punches), father and son thereby co-create an opportunity for some physical play in the midst of the construction activity.

Closing Down a Competing Activity

A particular category of activity that warrants parental intervention is where the behaviour is harmful. For example, Extract 10 shows an instance of Ben biting his own hand (line 107).

Extract 10 [MR2012 Benjamin & Dad Table] 02:30 That piece on there

Here Dad makes a number of attempts to engage Ben with the construction activity. He uses a single-word summons “Look” (91), starts to produce and the cut-off a modal verb directive “can you put” (95), and produces another single-word summons “listen” during which he taps Ben’s arm. As Dad issues the summons and directive “Look (.) can you put tha:t piece on there” Ben looks at the pieces but then looks away (100). When Dad rephrases the instruction “That piece on there for me?” (104) Ben produces a vocalisation and bites his hand (106). Dad swiftly but calmly intervenes, responding with “n no no n Ah Ah No biting please” (109–110). Given that Ben is biting himself, and given the promptness of Dad’s intervention, it is evident that here Dad is under a high obligation to intervene and is acting in accordance with this obligation. However, contra the recruitment continuum (Table 3.1), this high obligation does not relate to a request from Ben but rather it arises from an embodied display.

Concluding Discussion

This study aimed to contribute to our understanding of the competences and challenges involved in parents and childrenwith ASD interacting at home, in particular how co-participation is managed, through the analysis of a session involving one boy and his father. The analysis shows how, in this setting, the father uses directives to organise the session. In addition, a repertoire of interactional skills are drawn on in the deployment and design of these directives and in addressing how the boy responds to them. The father’s actions involve “recipient design” (Sacks 1992, p. 438); in several respects, in what he does and in how he does it, the father shows an orientation to the child’s concerns of the moment. In particular, in coordinating spoken directives with objects in the material setting, he produces situated configurations of objects for the child to work on.

As noted in previous work on learning support assistants (Stribling and Rae 2010) and in a previous analysis of the activity session examined here (Ramey and Rae 2015), the parent uses interactional resources for supporting children’s activities that draw deeply on capacities to address contingencies arising in the child’s behaviour. In addition to responding to troubles, some forms of support are proactive and anticipate difficulties. A specific group of forms of support involve managing the child’s attention or addressing situations when the child becomes involved in extraneous activities (e.g. activating a sound effects box or biting himself). Although the analysis has considered specific individuals in a specific activity session, the participants’ conduct can be formulated in a non-case specific way. In the session, the father draws on a range of classes of support to faciliate his son’s participation. These are summarised in Table 3.2.

Table 3.2 Classes of support

Two groups of resources can be distinguished; first, those concerned with eliciting the child’s engagement with an activity and promoting their accomplishment of it; and second, those concerned with orienting to activities that the child initiates. Nevertheless, in practice, these intersect in complex ways; for example getting the child to engage with part of the construction task can involve bringing an action that the child has initiated to a close. On the other hand, an important feature of the character of this session is that on occasion, the father co-participates with activities that the child initiates even though they do not progress the construction game activity. This allows the child some autonomy and creates the scope for playful engagement with each other.

The recruitment continuum (Kendrick and Drew 2016) offers an analytic resource for considering parents’ different forms of participation with respect to providing assistance when the child encounters a trouble. The situations examined here differ from those considered by Kendrick and Drew in that the action for which assistance might be relevant relates to responding to a sequence that was initiated by the potential assisting party, here the Dad. Consequently, that party has a particular relationship to troubles that arise in the unfolding course of action. Whilst this might enter into the relevance of offering assistance, such cases can still be located within the recruitment continuum.

The following classes of assistance have not been previously described in terms of the recruitment continuum but could be located within an expanded version of it: (a) designing initiating actions in anticipation of a trouble (b) bringing extraneous activities to completion. Whilst the analysis has examined multiple episodes from a single session, involving one father and son, we anticipate that versions of the practices identified here are likely to be relevant for other children and their parents in other settings. Key capacities are the parent displaying interactional flexibility in creating opportunities for themself and their child to co-participate with each other. On the one hand, structured opportunities are created for the child to engage with the designated activity; on the other hand, opportunities are selectively responded to such that the child can initiate other courses of action. The study used CA, a qualitative inductive methodology, to examine multiple instances of interactional moments where the participants were making opportunities for co-participation. It aimed to examine them in situ, considering their interactional context and examined some of the practices through which they were implemented. Given that this study focused on a single activity session in detail, the limitations arising from the small data base must be acknowledged. Although we have identified actions that are likely to be generic, further investigation is need to confirm this and to explore the range of practices that are used to implement these actions. Future research could consider larger samples of children in multiple settings to better understand the range of ways in which co-participation is managed and the different practices used. There would be practical and theoretical value in establishing what the local consequences of particular practices are in order to identify which ones appear to be most helpful under which conditions.