Sunday, October 25, 2009

paperwork


I had a nightmare last night that they told me I was getting three new kids on Monday and that all their IEPs were due.
For someone not familiar with special education, an IEP is an individualized educational plan. These plans are due once (and occasionally twice) a year for every child in special education. You have to write about the child's exceptionality, disability, age, history, medical conditions, behavior, parental concerns, etc. After this you take every area the child is struggling with, communication, behavior, math, reading, ela etc. and you write about the child's strengths and weaknesses in that area, the current performance, make a goal and then write at least 3 objectives for that goal. Next, you write what regular classes they are in, what assistive technology they get, what accommodations and modifications they should receive (preferential seating, list of tasks, read aloud, shortened assignments) what state assessment they are taking, and how many minutes they are in each setting (regular, special, counseling, speech). It's like a 12 page paper on each kid I teach. I also have to test them to see what grade level they are on, write behavior plans, complete a progress report on each child and each objective every 9 weeks and do everything a regular education teacher does too. I love my job, but the paperwork is killer.

Things have been going really well lately. One of my children who threw a tantrum at least twice a day had zero, that's right, zero tantrums all week. I'm so proud of him. He is in the middle of nine children and a rough and tumble, streetwise 11-year old. He climbs trees an fences on the playground, wrestles other children, is covered is scratches and scars and can wear out a pair of shoes in a month. He has such a sensitive heart and he is so little, but any little thing used to send him to punches, tears and throwing desks. Earlier this year I had to hold him down and rock him for 20 minutes before he would calm down. Something as simple as asking him to sit down used to make him explode into these physical tirades. He's one of my smallest and youngest kids but he can hold his own. It has been such an achievement for him.
I have this little reflection corner with earphones and relaxing music and stress balls with pictures the kids drew of things they love. It's where they go when they need to calm down. I also give a nonverbal signal to my kids to warn them that they are getting too upset or misbehaving too much and they need to stop. This prevents embarrassment and allows the child to make a choice to continue the behavior or face the consequences. I think it's really working. On that note, I have 3 lesson plans to write. See you soon.

Friday, October 23, 2009

Raccoon bumblebee


I am on the positive behavior support team for our school. Our mascot is a bee, so my supervisor asked me to wear a bee costume and go see the little kids to talk about the rules. I made it out of a sweatshirt, yellow duct tape and styrofoam. It's kind of amazing. You wouldn't believe how fun it is to run around a group of preschool kids buzzing. The rest of the week all the little kids kept saying "she's the bee lady." I think they think I'm a super hero. They keep asking me to fly.

In language we are studying that when a question begins with "when" the answer has to be a time. I had the whole class write to when sentences about anything they wanted. One of my students scribbled all over his sheet instead of writing anything. I told him to erase it and try harder. Here are the completed, successful, and creative sentences he wrote:
"When will I eat coon?"
"When will I fly?"

Saturday, October 17, 2009

Funerals and baby showers

A couple of visitors came to my room this week and told me what a great job I'm doing. I'm always amazed when someone says that. It's almost always loud and tantrums are thrown and it takes us forever to get through a lesson. While I was talking to the evaluator, one of my 12 year olds came up and he had painted red watercolors all over his face and said "Look, I have a bloody nose." I calmly told him to clean his face, and if he put paint on it again, I would have to mark his chart. She told me I had such a positive classroom environment. I suppose that means one where you can be free to be a sixth grader who can put watercolor paint all over your face and not get screamed at.

was sitting in the floor with a small group when one of the kids asked me what I was doing this weekend. I said "I'm going to a funeral and a baby shower." He said "Why would you want to go see a baby take a shower." It took me awhile to explain to him what it really was, but in the end, I think the literal interpretation is funnier.

The special education teacher next to me teaches the lower grades. One of her kids is in Kindergarten and still hasn't mastered potty training. When they went to change him, he didn't have on a pull up, but a dishtowel. I guess when you're out of diapers, you're out of diapers.

The funeral today was for one of my student's brothers who was tragically shot and killed. He was only 16. I spoke with a woman who owns the convenience store down the street from the projects where they live. She told me she feels like she's going to a funeral for a young kid every other day. I didn't even know him, but I found myself unable to hold back tears. I have no idea what it must be like to lose someone like that. Keep their family in your thoughts and prayers.

Sunday, October 11, 2009

Last year on i'm a teacher; what's your superpower....

Just to catch everyone up, this is my second year teaching self-contained special education (that's where you have the children with all types of disabilities, cognitive, mental, behavioral, pretty much all day in one classroom). I teach 4th through 6th grade, but my kids range in age from 10 to 14. Last year was my first year and I made it with the 5 little ones that I had. This year I have 11 students. The hardest part of my job is taking 11 little (and kinda big) people on every level you can imagine, in every subject and attempting to reach all of them in 8 hours a day. So far this year, my classroom was struck by lightning (while we were in it) destroying 2 of my 5 computers and my printer. Also a little girl who, I'm sure most people thought could learn nothing, is actually putting letters, sounds and words together on a regular basis. I have been thrown into a bookshelf due to a tantrum about losing recess. One of my former students lost a 16 year old sibling to, what appears to be a drive by. At the beginning of the year I cried a lot, because I was almost certain I couldn't do it all, but as each day comes I manage to get closer and closer to actually doing it all. My students are HILARIOUS, as you will see in the coming posts. They also still manage to adore me and grow every day despite my shortfalls. If any of you have ever been a teacher, or want to be a teacher, or just want to read about the experience...enjoy.

Saturday, October 10, 2009

The Night Kitchen


Yesterday, ancillary was cancelled and my back up plan is to have the kids watch these Scholastic DVDs with classic children's stories on them and then have them do some type of comprehension activity. I put in the Maurice Sendak one and the class is really enjoying "Where the Wild Things Are." A couple of other stories come on and then this one comes up "In the Night Kitchen." Everything is going fine, when the main character of the book, Mickey, falls through the air and his clothes disappear. This child, who appears to be about three, is spinning through the air in full frontal, cartoon nudity. Of course, all 12 of my students begin loudly screaming and laughing. Mortified (and laughing hysterically), I turn the video off and attempt to calm them down to a reasonable volume. It literally took 15 minutes (and the rest of ancillary time) for us all to stop. After school, I looked up this crazy book on the internet and finished watching the story. This is definitely the weirdest childrens book I have ever read in my life. I can't seem to find a moral, or any reason for Mickey to keep stripping down to nothing. These three Hitler-esque cooks keep chasing him and telling him he's milk, and at the end it says "and that's why we have cake for breakfast." Clearly this is the result of a bad acid trip. This book won tons of awards in the 70s, causing me to put much less faith in the whole book review system. Check out the video yourself.