Hello Germany!! 17 Page views today, 25 yesterday JUST from GERMANY!! Holy Mackerel and greetings!!
Today I'm back in school, in the Kindergarten Hallway. The crocuses and I woke up to an unexpected (by me) light blanket of snow, with flurries of melting snow all day long. On the way into school at lunch time, I noticed a small cluster of adults at the entrance to the gym, where the kids were playing inside. An aide is standing by the wall, her face flushed, shiny from dried tears. Faces are turned toward her with concern. She is talking to the big black guy, who I had previously seen working with Mauricio when Mauricio ran from the room in tears after being called "stupid". I later learned this nice man is Mr. L. Mr. L works with the Therapist who is contracted from the Mental Health Center. He implements the behavioral programs which the Therapist designs. I hear just snatches of the conversation as I walk by, "screamed", "crying", "he's in the classroom now". Mr. L. walks into Mrs. D's Kindergarten room as I walk into the Office to sign in.
The office is full of students when I walk in. One waiting to go home, two eating lunch in the office (punishment?). There is a folded up army cot with blankets and a pillow stashed by the filing cabinets. The Secretary, W, is a traffic cop, a nurse, a screener of all calls for the principal, a mother and a disciplinarian. She is also the only one available for volunteers, like me, to get assistance from. I vaguely look around for a number dispenser like at Target. After she points out the clock so I can sign in the time (of course it was DIRECTLY behind me, must have lost my Mommy eyes in the Back of my Head), I trundle myself to the classroom.
The kids are already in the classroom because they played inside today. Mrs. D is wrangling them without a rope. She greets me with a smile and directs me to the pile of Brown Bear, Brown Bear Booklets. I ask if she wants me to come get the students, or to send them in. She responds non-committally. I resolve to be as unnoticeable and as self-sufficient as possible today.
I move through the kids more quickly today. They're training me better. I fire off short bursts of instructions. "Pick a chair." "Find the last page you worked on." just before they get to each task. All of the kids are responding to the cues to "hold with your helping hand", "start at the top". I am instructing them on this now before they even pick up the pencil. This works much better. I am even able to slow some of them down and demonstrate correct letter formation. I discover that NONE of them fit the chairs. They ALL have to scoot to the very edges of the chairs for their feet to reach the floor. Most of them can read the words. Today I have Jason, whom we previously met being punished by sitting in his chair, for not being able to sit in his chair. He stays in his chair, though he does wiggle a lot. Jason has big ears, turning his head to catch every voice that comes out into the hall, to watch every person. I don't need big ears to hear Mauricio screaming and crying again. I don't know how either he or Mrs. D survives. When cued to write smaller so "the words will all fit on the page", he write so microscopically, Mrs. D will need a magnifying glass to read the word. I cross my eyes when I look at the word. "Write the next one bigger", I say. "You're making my eyes cross!" He giggles. "It's easy to cross your eyes", he boasts. "All you have to do is look at your nose!" I murmur admiringly, and we finish the writing. He is a very meticulous and exacting colorer, carefully outlining the whole figure of the duck before filling it in. I compliment him. "My Mom told me to color good," he says proudly. "Well, you're doing a very good job of listening to your Mom." I reassure him.
The last little girl, Madison, is as adorable as all the rest. Her bright blond hair stands out from all the dark heads in the class. She also stands out, because she, literally, stands out. Madison does not even try to stay in her seat, and it instantly becomes clear that she does better if I don't ask her to. She stands up, kneels, leans on the table, but she never once stops coloring or writing. As long as she's working as hard as she can, far be it from me to ask her to sit in a chair that doesn't fit her.
So, today, I cruised through 4 more kids on their very own take-home books. I might actually have made some improvement on their handwriting skills today, but I doubt that they'll be maintained, unless Mrs. D uses the same verbal cues, which I will give her in the e-mail when I get home. I quietly clean up, while Mrs. D reads to the class. Mauricio is sitting on the floor in the corner by the door, body facing the corner, head slightly cocked so he can peek at the story without getting caught. My heart lurches as I spy him.
On the way out, I resolve to introduce myself to Mr. L, where I find out his position. I peek into the office around the door. A 5th grade sized kid is at the table with his head down. Mr. L. is typing on the computer and looks up, nodding his head for me to come in. I introduce myself, my background, and try to give a short, quick sketch of how I used activity and multi-sensory structure to influence behavior. I ask him if he would like to hear what I have to offer. He notes that they DO have a lot of behavioral issues at this school. (Color me surprised!) He immediately declines the offer, as he notes that the therapist draws up all the behavioral plans. He instructs me to phone the therapist, Mrs. S. He gives me her direct phone number.
I sign out in the office and ask the Secretary, W, for a school calendar. "I didn't give you one?" she asks absently. I shake my head no, wondering when during her traffic directing this would have happened. I ask her when would be a good time to introduce myself to the Principal. Her eyes grow wide, "You haven't met him yet?" Another negative head shake from me. I think absently about the fingerprints I think I was supposed to give to the School District Office. She pops her head into his office, which looks more to me like a conference room. I am instructed to sit a minute, and he'll be available.
Mr. T is the principal. Big, white guy with a friendly face like Mr. L. Both are potentially very intimidating in size. I had seen him roaming the halls. In his Friday dress-down short sleeved T-shirt, I had wrongly categorized him as the PE teacher. My bad. Only takes a half second for me to switch gears while W introduces me. I ask Mr. T if we can go into his office so that we can talk a little more. I give him my training and background. His face is nice and open, until I mention that I may have intimidated Mrs. D. with too much information. I note all the questions and suggestions that I had regarding behavior, but say that I'm coming every Friday to work with the kids. I talk about movement, and learning, and behavior. He says, "Oh, like Brain Gym." I try not to roll my eyes. So, I eagerly nod my head in the affirmative. Then he rolls it out...the "L" word. "Well, you know, even with all your training, since your not an employee, and you don't have any vested interest in the kids, there's a LIABILITY issue with you giving suggestions...." Pause. I process this. "I understand that I can't work directly with or treat individual children," I say, "But, I wasn't giving suggestions regarding just one kid," Breathe, "I'm giving suggestions on how to structure the whole class, so they can stay on task, and so there aren't as many behavioral issues." "Well," he puffs up, "Even so, we can't have parents coming in saying who's this volunteer, and why is she giving suggestions about my kid?" We talk about withholding recesses. He says," We don't withhold recess, they have to earn it." I think my head is spinning, or at least my eyes. "But," I take a deep breath, "there is a possibility that they won't have any or at least have decreased recess, right?" He nods, "But they get the exercise they need other ways," he defends. He pauses, thinks, and says, "Besides, we have people in the district who can come in and do this." I take a deep breath. I've WORKED in this school district. For an OT to come into a classroom where they don't have a student they treat is UNHEARD OF, so I know he's not talking about OT's. Anybody else, is just rolling out the same old Behavior Modification, Time out stuff dressed up to look like positive and negative consequences...heads on the tables, kids in the corner. I'm trying not to explode...I think I failed, because I say, "Well, it's not working very well from what I've seen." I take a deep breath. He says, "We could stay here and discuss this all day." From which I know, the discussion is over. Oh, well, in for a penny, in for a pound. I try to recover. "I've written about movement and learning on my blog," I note. "Would you be interested." "Sure," He says, "Bring it by." I note he doesn't say he'll read it. The phone rings. He answers it and shuts the door to the hallway. I know our time is up. He hustles me out of the office saying, "I've been waiting all day just for this phone call."
I walk out. It's snowing again. I let the crisp air cool me off. I need it.
Stay cool. Enjoy Spring.
Kismet
Ah me
Today I'm back in school, in the Kindergarten Hallway. The crocuses and I woke up to an unexpected (by me) light blanket of snow, with flurries of melting snow all day long. On the way into school at lunch time, I noticed a small cluster of adults at the entrance to the gym, where the kids were playing inside. An aide is standing by the wall, her face flushed, shiny from dried tears. Faces are turned toward her with concern. She is talking to the big black guy, who I had previously seen working with Mauricio when Mauricio ran from the room in tears after being called "stupid". I later learned this nice man is Mr. L. Mr. L works with the Therapist who is contracted from the Mental Health Center. He implements the behavioral programs which the Therapist designs. I hear just snatches of the conversation as I walk by, "screamed", "crying", "he's in the classroom now". Mr. L. walks into Mrs. D's Kindergarten room as I walk into the Office to sign in.
The office is full of students when I walk in. One waiting to go home, two eating lunch in the office (punishment?). There is a folded up army cot with blankets and a pillow stashed by the filing cabinets. The Secretary, W, is a traffic cop, a nurse, a screener of all calls for the principal, a mother and a disciplinarian. She is also the only one available for volunteers, like me, to get assistance from. I vaguely look around for a number dispenser like at Target. After she points out the clock so I can sign in the time (of course it was DIRECTLY behind me, must have lost my Mommy eyes in the Back of my Head), I trundle myself to the classroom.
The kids are already in the classroom because they played inside today. Mrs. D is wrangling them without a rope. She greets me with a smile and directs me to the pile of Brown Bear, Brown Bear Booklets. I ask if she wants me to come get the students, or to send them in. She responds non-committally. I resolve to be as unnoticeable and as self-sufficient as possible today.
I move through the kids more quickly today. They're training me better. I fire off short bursts of instructions. "Pick a chair." "Find the last page you worked on." just before they get to each task. All of the kids are responding to the cues to "hold with your helping hand", "start at the top". I am instructing them on this now before they even pick up the pencil. This works much better. I am even able to slow some of them down and demonstrate correct letter formation. I discover that NONE of them fit the chairs. They ALL have to scoot to the very edges of the chairs for their feet to reach the floor. Most of them can read the words. Today I have Jason, whom we previously met being punished by sitting in his chair, for not being able to sit in his chair. He stays in his chair, though he does wiggle a lot. Jason has big ears, turning his head to catch every voice that comes out into the hall, to watch every person. I don't need big ears to hear Mauricio screaming and crying again. I don't know how either he or Mrs. D survives. When cued to write smaller so "the words will all fit on the page", he write so microscopically, Mrs. D will need a magnifying glass to read the word. I cross my eyes when I look at the word. "Write the next one bigger", I say. "You're making my eyes cross!" He giggles. "It's easy to cross your eyes", he boasts. "All you have to do is look at your nose!" I murmur admiringly, and we finish the writing. He is a very meticulous and exacting colorer, carefully outlining the whole figure of the duck before filling it in. I compliment him. "My Mom told me to color good," he says proudly. "Well, you're doing a very good job of listening to your Mom." I reassure him.
The last little girl, Madison, is as adorable as all the rest. Her bright blond hair stands out from all the dark heads in the class. She also stands out, because she, literally, stands out. Madison does not even try to stay in her seat, and it instantly becomes clear that she does better if I don't ask her to. She stands up, kneels, leans on the table, but she never once stops coloring or writing. As long as she's working as hard as she can, far be it from me to ask her to sit in a chair that doesn't fit her.
So, today, I cruised through 4 more kids on their very own take-home books. I might actually have made some improvement on their handwriting skills today, but I doubt that they'll be maintained, unless Mrs. D uses the same verbal cues, which I will give her in the e-mail when I get home. I quietly clean up, while Mrs. D reads to the class. Mauricio is sitting on the floor in the corner by the door, body facing the corner, head slightly cocked so he can peek at the story without getting caught. My heart lurches as I spy him.
On the way out, I resolve to introduce myself to Mr. L, where I find out his position. I peek into the office around the door. A 5th grade sized kid is at the table with his head down. Mr. L. is typing on the computer and looks up, nodding his head for me to come in. I introduce myself, my background, and try to give a short, quick sketch of how I used activity and multi-sensory structure to influence behavior. I ask him if he would like to hear what I have to offer. He notes that they DO have a lot of behavioral issues at this school. (Color me surprised!) He immediately declines the offer, as he notes that the therapist draws up all the behavioral plans. He instructs me to phone the therapist, Mrs. S. He gives me her direct phone number.
I sign out in the office and ask the Secretary, W, for a school calendar. "I didn't give you one?" she asks absently. I shake my head no, wondering when during her traffic directing this would have happened. I ask her when would be a good time to introduce myself to the Principal. Her eyes grow wide, "You haven't met him yet?" Another negative head shake from me. I think absently about the fingerprints I think I was supposed to give to the School District Office. She pops her head into his office, which looks more to me like a conference room. I am instructed to sit a minute, and he'll be available.
Mr. T is the principal. Big, white guy with a friendly face like Mr. L. Both are potentially very intimidating in size. I had seen him roaming the halls. In his Friday dress-down short sleeved T-shirt, I had wrongly categorized him as the PE teacher. My bad. Only takes a half second for me to switch gears while W introduces me. I ask Mr. T if we can go into his office so that we can talk a little more. I give him my training and background. His face is nice and open, until I mention that I may have intimidated Mrs. D. with too much information. I note all the questions and suggestions that I had regarding behavior, but say that I'm coming every Friday to work with the kids. I talk about movement, and learning, and behavior. He says, "Oh, like Brain Gym." I try not to roll my eyes. So, I eagerly nod my head in the affirmative. Then he rolls it out...the "L" word. "Well, you know, even with all your training, since your not an employee, and you don't have any vested interest in the kids, there's a LIABILITY issue with you giving suggestions...." Pause. I process this. "I understand that I can't work directly with or treat individual children," I say, "But, I wasn't giving suggestions regarding just one kid," Breathe, "I'm giving suggestions on how to structure the whole class, so they can stay on task, and so there aren't as many behavioral issues." "Well," he puffs up, "Even so, we can't have parents coming in saying who's this volunteer, and why is she giving suggestions about my kid?" We talk about withholding recesses. He says," We don't withhold recess, they have to earn it." I think my head is spinning, or at least my eyes. "But," I take a deep breath, "there is a possibility that they won't have any or at least have decreased recess, right?" He nods, "But they get the exercise they need other ways," he defends. He pauses, thinks, and says, "Besides, we have people in the district who can come in and do this." I take a deep breath. I've WORKED in this school district. For an OT to come into a classroom where they don't have a student they treat is UNHEARD OF, so I know he's not talking about OT's. Anybody else, is just rolling out the same old Behavior Modification, Time out stuff dressed up to look like positive and negative consequences...heads on the tables, kids in the corner. I'm trying not to explode...I think I failed, because I say, "Well, it's not working very well from what I've seen." I take a deep breath. He says, "We could stay here and discuss this all day." From which I know, the discussion is over. Oh, well, in for a penny, in for a pound. I try to recover. "I've written about movement and learning on my blog," I note. "Would you be interested." "Sure," He says, "Bring it by." I note he doesn't say he'll read it. The phone rings. He answers it and shuts the door to the hallway. I know our time is up. He hustles me out of the office saying, "I've been waiting all day just for this phone call."
I walk out. It's snowing again. I let the crisp air cool me off. I need it.
Stay cool. Enjoy Spring.
Kismet
Ah me
One step forward,two back.
ReplyDeleteAin't that the truth! God love ya, Susan!
ReplyDeleteInteresting. I agree with Susan. Keep going though!
ReplyDeleteNever thought of stopping...think I'm emotionally incapable of it, despite what my body might want. I just think of it as part of the Two-Step of Life. (For those of you who dance Country-Western style). Thanx, Joan! It might have helped if I'd had more than 3 hours of sleep the night before. Censors fail on less than 5 hours of sleep (sheepish grin).
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