As I reread my blog entries, I realize I make it all sound so "quiet." It was NEVER quiet in our classroom. But if I documented the incessant noise, my writing would not make sense. And since the population of students I was teaching were all between the 25--50 IQ range (with 100 being average), the noises they were making did not always make sense in our world. Suffice it to say, it was NEVER quiet in our classroom.
The one student I had closer to the 50 point IQ was Darryl. From day one, Darryl viewed himself as my helper, pointing out all the items in our classroom for my perusal introduced with the phrase "Lona, look!" Initially, I thought Darryl was just interested in showing me "around." Little did I know he was setting up his identity as "the informant."
Each student had an IEP. This is the acronym for an Individualized Education Plan. This document contained goals for the child to work toward throughout the year. When composing an IEP for a student with a severe handicap or very low IQ, the goal is broken down into small segments. For instance, the ultimate goal for Daryl was to be able to write his name. That could not even be started until he learned how to connect lines--i.e. making a circle. So, one of his goals for the year was to make a circle. In writing an IEP, inappropriate behaviors displayed by the student were often listed or mentioned. As a new and inexperienced teacher, it was much easier for me to focus on stopping unwanted behaviors than it was to focus on accomplishing a goal, especially with all the chaos in the room. I found that to be true of Joan, too. She spent most of her time telling the students to stop this behavior or "don't do that." I fell right in with her for the first few weeks. Afterall, I was only a sub for six weeks, right? But, Darryl was responsible for changing my attitude about that.
"Lona, look Eric!" I turned to look at Darryl and he was pointing to Eric who was in the face of Deena agitating her. I noticed that as Darryl pointed to Eric, he turned his head the opposite direction. Did he think if HE didn't look at Eric, Eric wouldn't notice that he was the informant? I had no sooner redirected Eric when I heard it again, "Lona, look David!" Once again Darryl was pointing (to David this time), but turning his own head in the opposite direction. I looked at David. He was scooting toward the classroom door. I moved him to the other side of the room. "Lona, look Pat!" Patrick was the next victim of our classroom informant. Patrick was sitting quietly, staring at his fingers. "Patrick is fine, Darryl." After a few more days of this and several false "Lona, looks" I decided it was time to confront Darryl on his tattletale antics. I wish I could say we sat down, had a chat, he considered my point of view and decided to change--but we all know that didn't happen. Instead, I assigned him the task of watching himself and telling me if HE did something wrong or needed help. This was difficult for him to change as the informant role had been his for several years. It was at this point that I decided it was time to take charge. Joan was a wonderful person and so gracious in welcoming me. She was a very hard worker and was supportive of every idea I threw at her, so why not go crazy and make this a totally different program? The kids were tired of just sitting around and putting pegs in a pegboard. Heck! I was tired of sitting around and WATCHING them put pegs in a pegboard and I was tired of being in the same classroom all day long. Why were these kids even at this school if they were going to be tucked away in a back room, never to interact with others? I was tired of serving them lunch out of their own portable hot oven that was rolled into our room everyday at 11:00. Even if I was only going to be there for six weeks, I could try to make the program better in that time, couldn't I?
It was time for some changes...Joan and I sat down to talk.
Can't wait for Monday's entry.
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