Middle School Moment

Middle school.  First day of sixth grade, but first you need some background.

AT attended a private preschool and kindergarten.  It was a magical place and was just around the corner from our house.  We often walked to or from school.  The children had to go outside every day for at least a little while to play no matter what the weather. We were encouraged to send them in old clothes so they could get dirty.  Children were allow to climb high in trees, as long as they could get themselves down.  The kindergarten teacher told me she was relieved when the big kindergarteners were leaving at the end of their school year because they almost reached her fear limit.  There were bicycles to ride, zip lines and rope swings to use.  The kids rode on a trailer in parades.   They had hay rides in our neighborhood.  They ran from the mythical "killer beaver" that lived in our creek.  If the city schools were out for snow, the school was open for sledding on the property.  On a snow day, I asked the teacher if she worried about the blades on sleds hurting someone, and she replied, "Oh, they have on thick clothes."  We loved this school.

Then first grade.  It was also within walking distance from our house.  It was a small public elementary school, with a great reputation, with only two classrooms per grade.  I was working where I work now - at a rural school 17 miles from our house.  I could have chosen for AT to attend school with me or stay in town.  Our town has good schools and I was determined that she would stay in town.  I wanted to have every chance to meet as many parents as possible so I would be ready for high school.

So I started AT in school in town with great hopes.  It was first grade.  She did not learn to read in kindergarten, but she had some good skills.  She could not have had more exposure to books.  At home, we usually read books twice a day.  She loved being read to.  She could rhyme words at age 3.  She knew her letters and sounds.  She was ready to go. 

But we hit the perfect storm.  Her first teacher quit after one month of school.  Her second teacher was an entry-year teacher.  The class was heavily weighted with special needs students.  If you have read my blog very many times, you know that I am a strong proponent of inclusion with special needs students, but this class was too heavily weighted with special needs students, behavior problems, and gifted readers.  My child was in the middle of the class and getting no attention at all.  I wanted to be relaxed about her learning to read.  She would do it on her own time.  But I was increasingly concerned at the school year progressed.  When I talked to the teacher, she did not seem to be concerned or have any suggestions.  How could my child, immersed  in reading as she had been, not be progressing more?  Should I be freaking out or relaxed?   Was she not learning to read because of poor instruction or because she had a true learning disability?  It was surely not because of lack of exposure at home.  By the end of the year, I wasn't the only one stressed.  AT was having physical symptoms, health problems, often crying when I dropped her off at school.  Something was stressing her and something had to change.

So, after fretting for months, I took her out of school and put her in my school for the last month of school.  By that point, I did not care what she learned.  I just wanted her to enjoy school.  Within two days, her new teacher sent home words that she needed to learn to read.  I realized I was just given the first piece of prescriptive information to work on at home.  This had not happened in her old classroom, in spite of my expressing my concern several times to the teacher.

On to second grade...at my school.  She was still behind in reading.  Her second grade teacher that year told me that, if she had not been my child (meaning she thought we would work at home), that she would have recommended that AT return to first grade.  And within 9 weeks, she was reading on the second grade level.  You decide:  maturation, or poor instruction.  We'll never know.

AT continued at my school until she completed elementary school.  The reading problem never appeared again.  I'm so glad we had those years together, all those rides together back and forth to school.  Inside the school,  AT's and my relationship was somewhat formal.  In general, she can be a very independent being.   If I passed her in line, we would smile and wave, but just as I wave at any other student.  However, there were a few moments when  "mean" girls were overwhelming and she ran to me after school and climbed up in my lap for comfort.  My heart hurt at the time, but now, I'm filled with thankfulness that I had those precious moments. 

The plan had always been for AT to return to the town school system for middle school.  My rationale was that, in high school, the larger school would provide more variety for AT's creative intelligence, her strength.   AT was very happy at my school and had many friends, so the summer after fifth grade, she was very frustrated with me.  Well, not frustrated.  Mad.  All summer, when people congratulated her on moving to middle school, she let her feelings be known.  "My mom is making me change schools.". I stayed firm.  She changed.

Now...back to middle school.  First day of school.  This was emotionally our Kindergarten year, at least in my mind.  Her true Kindergarten year and first grade were long past.  She had been with me at school for the past five years.  Now I was sending her off with strangers.  She was growing up too fast.  She was still frustrated with me for making her change schools.  We wandered around outside the school, looking for the sixth grade gathering area, then looking for the line for her homeroom teacher.  She said, "Don't leave me!"  I assured her I wouldn't until we found the right line.   Ahh, there it was.  I heard a teacher announce her teacher's name.  She was in the right line and I was about to cry.  I quickly told her.   "I'll be here to pick you up after school.  Love you." and turned away.  I did not turn back to look since I did not want her to see me cry.  I was about 50 feet away and I felt a hand on my arm.  I turned.  It was her, coming for one last "Love you."  She said, "Love you.  Are you crying?"  "Love you and no."  We both turned away and went on with our day.

5 Tips for the School Special Education Team

As a speech-language pathologist, I work in a school that I love and have enjoyed watching us teachers struggle, grow with, and enjoy the various challenges in an inclusive school.  I know that the teachers don't always consider it fun, since having a special needs child in the classroom can be very challenging, but, since I can have the privilege having the students move from grade to grade,  I can really see the progress.     As the elementary speech-language pathologist, in the same school for 13 years, I see how students, teachers and programs mature and change over the years.  Some things we get wrong, some things still need to be changed, but, many things, we get right.  Today's blog is a list of suggestions for school special education teams gleaned from my years of experience as a speech-language pathologist.

1.          There is a reason for the word "team".  I would like to think that I have thought of every strategy, method, and reinforcement, but, the truth is, I haven't.   And I can't.  I consider myself an "expert" in several areas.  However, I use the word "expert" in what I consider the best way to use it.  I am expert enough to know that there is always more information that I need.  I can see over the hill that there is more to learn.  I am often stumped for ideas.  There is always a better way to do  it.  There is always something I don't know.  I constantly look for better, more efficient, more effective.  Many days, I fall short and my team mate may be just the person with the right answer. 
2.      The parents are the primary members of the team and their child is the center of the IEP (Individualized Education Plan).  You may be an expert in your specific area, but the parents are the experts concerning their own child.  Recognize that expertise.   Encourage parents to tell you "no" if you suggest something they do not like.  Ask for ideas.  Ask for approval.  IEP's can always be altered and changed.  For the "young" parents, new to the process of an IEP (Individualized Education Plan), they are still not comfortable.  They need to learn to feel their comments and ideas are welcomed.  If you as the parent are unhappy in October and you don't complain, you'll be more unhappy in January.  The problem will be compounded.   Call the principal.  Call for a team meeting.  Speak up.  One of my roles is to encourage the parents speak up. 
3.      As a special education team member, I have responsibilities to the classroom teacher.   The most obvious one is to share expertise and strategies.  However, often, our very experienced teachers are doing an excellent job, more effective as I can imagine.  Over the years, I've come to see debriefing as an important part of my job.  Teachers know they are charged with the duty to help the child change and grow.  They feel the pressure to help their student progress.  It is not a comfortable place for the teachers to be when they have a student who is not progressing quickly enough.  Teachers look to me to have the answers, even when I know I don't have the answer.  I need to tell that teachers that changes don't always happen in a week.  But changes do happen.  I reassure the teachers that they will be amazed at the progress they will see over a longer period of time.
4.      Inclusion is critical.  The classroom is the yardstick of typical behavior for the teacher.  There are a wide range of typical student behavior and typical academic development.  For example, all students do not learn to read in Month Three of first grade.  The teacher looks to the classroom to decide how to push her students.  What are typical first grade study skills?   How well should a kindergartener sit a circle time?  How many math problems should a fifth grader complete in 10 minutes?  A student with special needs may not have typical behavior, study skills, or math skills.  However, by using the "classroom yardstick", the teacher knows what the target is.  The first grader who cannot complete the first grade work, may be able to work for five minutes.  The special needs kindergartener may sit for 5 minutes at the first of the year, then work to sit the required 10 minutes by the end of the year.  In the experience at our school, we are surprised with just how much progress can be made over a year.  The expectations are high and typical classroom skills are always the target.  When a student is in a fully self-contained classroom, the classroom teacher does not have that typical behavior "classroom yardstick". 
5.      Watch your team for personality conflicts.  Here I'm thinking of parents  and specific school team members conflict.  It happens.  Sometimes one team member is more empathetic with a specific parent than another.  A parent may object to a specific school team member for some known or unknown reason.  There are times for a school team member to be quiet.  

Give yourself credit.  You have loads of experience.  Reassure the parent about your experience.   Reassure the parent that you fully expect their child to make good progress.  Consider yourself an expert in the best sense of the term.  You are expert and know what you are doing, but you are also expert enough to know that there are always new skills for you to learn, new strategies to try.  You're part of a team.