Going in Circles...And in the Classroom

We've all done it.  Go from one room to another, let's say the kitchen to the living room, intent on a task.  We arrive in the living room and stop.  Stand there and say (usually out loud...even though it's to ourselves), now WHAT did I come here for?  Can't remember.  Head back to the kitchen.  Eureka!  I needed the letter opener.  Head back to the living room.  Grab the letter opener.  Back to the kitchen...except the letter, which I was  going to open, got put down on the desk in the living room, when I opened the drawer to get the letter opener.  Back to the living room...guess what happens next?

I am the QUEEN of going in circles.  Especially when every bone in my body aches so much all my brain thinks is PAIN!!! and I'm going on two hours of sleep, and... and...   If it's really bad, I can spend the first half hour after I wake up, doing nothing but going in circles, my brain stuttering, my body stumbling in pain and fatigue.  On those days, I cut my losses and sit my refined derriere on the couch and read.


Yes, I can go in circles just fine, all by myself, thank you!  But yesterday, I had help.  We like to give our old National Geographics to the small, downtown elementary school that is just blocks from our 106 year old house.  The neighborhood is a mix of gentrified older homes, and crowded low income apartment buildings filled with poverty stricken, families, a large number of which are divided single parent families.  There are a large number of Native American Families in this neighborhood.  The families of the lovingly restored older homes get a permissive transfer for their kids and they are bused or carpooled to the bustling, newer elementary school on the other side of town.  So, the classrooms of this downtown school, are filled with young faces which are often hungry, shuttled between divorced parents, sometimes with little sleep.  Many of these kids divide time between this school and reservation schools up north when they are shuttled between relatives.  Attention Deficit Disorder (ADD) and Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD) and learning disabilities abound.


A year ago, when I last deposited magazines, I inquired about volunteering.  I was told that I would have to fill out an application at the School District Office so that a background check could be competed  Sounded logical.   My kids graduated, summer came, my health became even more unpredictable, and circling was the norm, so I never followed through, until yesterday.  At the School District Office, I was told that no application was necessary for volunteering.  Phone calls were made to the school, where this was verified.  I was told to go the school and ask for "Susy Q".  Which I did.  Blank faces.  One lights up in recognition.  "Oh!  That's my counterpart at ______ (She names the even larger elementary school, in a similar neighborhood with an even larger Native American population.)  But I can help you."  "I want to volunteer."  "What do you do."  "Well, I'm computer literate, I'm familiar with office work, but I was a Special Ed. teacher, and I'm trained as a Pediatric Occupational Therapist."  Faces light up.  The secretary pipes up, "Oh! You need to go to the School District Office and fill out an application."  I think, "Good grief!  They've got me going in circles!"  I just look at her, and the Susie Q counterpart looks confused.  Secretary, "You're applying  for a job, right?"  Not Susie Q and I both say, "No, she/I just want(s) to volunteer."  Secretary, "Ohhhhhhhhh. Then you don't need to apply.  When can you start?"  "Whenever you need me." says I.  Not Susie Q, "Can you start right now?"  I nod yes, relieved that I wouldn't have to return to the School District Office.  My hand is grabbed and I'm ushered into a room with a sweet obviously pregnant, harried looking teacher in her 30's and...chaos.  Looks like I'm not the only one going in circles.  Not Susie Q explains who I am, and my training.   I add that I'm a behavior specialist and am writing a book. Another lit up face.  Another hand grabbed and we're off!

The teacher, Mrs. D.  Introduces me to the class.  She explains that there was a special assembly in the morning and they missed calendar time.  "Can you assist the slow ones at the back table while I direct the rest of the class?"  I nod.  Three boys and a girl are sent to my table.  One little boy is carrying his chair to the table and is redirected by the teacher.  Two of the boys are sitting in chairs so short that the table is at armpit height.  I grab the chair the little boy was trying to take to the table, because it's taller.  All the kids whip out 3 ring notebooks, and calendar time has begun.  So here's what was SUPPOSED to happen.  The 24 kindergarteners are instructed to find the weather page.  The teacher goes to one of the windows, pulls up the blind.  There is a teacher led discussion, where the class decides it's partly cloudy.  The children are instructed to get their green crayon and put a 1 for the first day of March in the empty box beside the picture  of the sun peeping out from behind the clouds.  Meanwhile, back at the speedy table, I miss the entire discussion, because we are still moving chairs, getting notebooks and pencil boxes.  The children are instructed to flip the pages until they find a blank calendar page.  They are instructed to write March at the top of the page.  There is a recitation of the days of the week, they decide it's Friday.  They find the first Friday box and are told to put a one in it.  Flip to the next page where there is a graph with numbers1 to 120.  There's out loud counting.  They decide it's the ____ blankth day of school (I miss this because) the speedy table and I are still trying to find our green crayons and stay in our seats.  The little girl has appropriated one of the pencil boxes and is doling out supplies to its owner who has wandered back to his chairless desk.  More flipping of pages; there's the reading of a poem, and the class is instructed to write March three times in the spaces provided.  There's one more page, that I missed, because we're still looking for green crayons, the little girl is playing notebook battle with the little boy who's pencil box she has.appropriated.  We finally figure out what to do with the weather page, skip the counting page, because no one, including me knows what day of the school year it is.  We start writing March in the blanks.  Three of the kids are attempting to write the word March with varying degrees of accuracy.  Chair boy is flipping his notebook cover.  I ask him what letter March begins with.  He doesn't know and I direct his attention to the word March written on the board at the front of the classroom.  Chair boy can't see it.  I take his hand and walk with him to the board.  Enlightenment.  Back to the table.  "What's the first letter?"  He doesn't know, but is able to copy the M.  Check on the other  kids who are missing either the c or the h.  The little girl is draping herself on me and asking if she can sit in my chair.  "No."  

By this time, the classroom at large is in varying stages of flipping through and completing pages.  There's wiggling, talking, confusion.  Somebody yells.  I notice one boy is standing at his table.  No chair in sight.  Mrs. D decides that she needs to regroup the glass.  She deals with the touch screen to cue up a counting dance.  We all stand up, and proceed to count, dance and clap our way to 100.  This seems to take a LONG time.  Meanwhile, an aide has walked in and is helping the classroom at large.  There is another scream and Mrs. D points at a kid and says, "Can you take care of that?"   Because we're trying to write March, I miss who screams, but say sure and walk in the direction of who I thought was the screamer.  Screamer and I finish, I walk back to the teacher who says, "Oh, that isn't the little boy I pointed at, but he needed help too."  I am directed to Mauricio, who is standing with a scowl that could curdle milk, arms crossed, shaking his head at the aide. The aide goes to help the speedy table. I ask Mrs. D what the problem was.  "He won't do his work."  I approach Mauricio who promptly crawls under the Speedy Table.  I sit down to wait, telling Mrs. D that I'll just wait him out, because I don't want to get in a power struggle.  Mauricio starts grabbing the Speedy Kids' feet.  When redirected, he starts loudly banging his head on the bottom of the table.  I get tired of waiting.  There is a tussle while I pull Mauricio out from under the table.  He's fighting me, a panicked look on his face as he's pulled.  I let go of him.  Back under the table. I start trying to redirect Mauricio and he starts banging his head again. I try getting him to stomp his feet, flap his knees.  I am eagerly joined by one of the speedy kids who proudly demonstrates what I'm asking Mauricio to do.  I get the little guy back in his chair and on-track.  I ask Mauricio if I should come under the table with him.  He nods yes.  The table is so low for me that I have to practically fold myself in half to crawl under.  I bump my head on the table.  Ouch!  Mauricio laughs.  I ask Mauricio if we can crawl out from under the table.  He nods and we exit.  I ask Mrs. D if Mauricio and I can go out in the hall and pull ourselves together.  She pauses in passing out Weekly Reader and nod yes.  But she cautions me because she says Mauricio is a "runner."  

Out in the hallway, I ask Mauricio if he'll hold my hand.  He shakes his head no, but does relent and holds onto the middle of the scarf that had been around my neck.  We march, and jump the length of the hallway, trying to provide proprioceptive input to calm him.  He asks if we can go outside.  Just as we're going to exit, Not Susie Q walks toward us with a friendly smile on her face and greets us..  I like Not Susie.  Mauricio hides behind one of the door posts.  After she leaves, Mauricio informs me that Not Susie was laughing at him because she thinks he's stupid.  I engage him in a conversation, where I say that I like Not Susie Q, note how friendly she is, and tell Mauricio that I didn't think she would ever think ANYBODY was stupid.

I ask Mauricio if he's ready to go back to the classroom.  He shakes his head no, and asks to go outside.  I say, "Yes, for 15 stomps"  We go outside and the door closes behind us. Locked.  Time to CIRCLE to the front of the school.  Boy, this seems familiar....  :)

TO BE CONTINUED....