Special Education Today

23 July 2010

Jennifer: Relaxed Learning

Filed under: Blogger Jennifer — Anna @ 5:50 pm

Jennifer With the chaos of the year behind me and the start of summer school complete, a surprising wave of relaxation has taken over. In preparation for summer school I had been nervously gathering materials and planning through my days, anxious about a new group of students whose skills and interests were foreign to me.

It has been a complete week, and so far it seems that all of my frantic bracing for the unknown was all for nothing. Summer school is such a breeze! I say that enthusiastically because up until this point summer school has always been difficult from the first day to the very last.

Last year I ran summer school much like I did my classroom. We had our daily schedule which we adhered to as much as possible, we had lots of academic tasks that needed to be finished in almost the same order that I had been completing them during the year, and because last year I actually did have the students I had during the school year, I was simply continuing on from where we left off.

Oh, and we played in the water sometimes.

I think it took a new class and a whole new environment to shake me out of my rigid ways to realize just how carefree school can feel while not actually being any less academic than the entire month of September.

The truth is that this summer I was completely unsure of where to pick up and where anyone had left off, and again I have students who span the range of skill sets. I knew our schedule would be riddled with activities such as computer lab, APE, and multiple snacks and wiggle breaks, so a cemented daily schedule was out of the question.

I used to be a camp counselor, and all I can remember clearly is the constant sense of “Dear Lord please help me keep these kids entertained and in a group for 45 minutes,”  which I somehow pulled off, so I thought I’d try to treat summer school somewhat like camp.

I’ve been planning “periods,” which are 45 minutes long, and can be squeezed or split into any amount of time. It is working so well I think I am going to plan my year this way. Instead of seeing a line of “to-dos” in the morning, they just see three activities that we need to complete. Rather than label them “math” and “language arts” with a description of what we will be doing, I name the activity and give a preview of how fun it will be. It sounds so simple I don’t know why I wasn’t doing it before.

I know we need to post our schedule for our administrators to see and so our students can practice following a schedule/telling time, but the more I look back the more I realize my students just shut down when they saw a block of text 3 feet tall by 2 feet wide every day.

My students this summer haven’t shut down yet when they see their three goals for the day, and they have completed more activities and learned/retained more new concepts in this past week than my last summer school class did in a month. Well, maybe not exactly that much, but my point is that because we are focusing on what the activity is rather than what concept it is reaching and where it falls in the middle of a huge schedule, we are getting through our activities much more successfully and the students are much happier learners.

I think this next year we’ll have two schedules: one for my students presented in a manner that energizes them, and one for everyone else presented in a manner to strictly inform. Wouldn’t it be nice if every day of the school year felt like summer?

15 June 2010

Jennifer: A New Balance

Filed under: Blogger Jennifer — Anna @ 10:49 am
Jennifer Balancing work life with personal life certainly felt a whole lot more doable when my personal life was lacking extreme activity. I haven’t been writing as much as I’d like to lately because my personal life suddenly became a little out of control. I haven’t had enough time to really write, so by the time I finally get a moment to jot my thoughts down, shortening them into bite-size posts has been so difficult that I am currently staring at two drafts sadly begging for closure on my desktop.



The craziness didn’t just happen all at once, but slowly built up while I wasn’t paying attention. It was when I was recently sitting right in the middle of a massive, and I mean massive, pile of materials—a collection of current and that which has been passed down from a very, very long time ago—that I realized it had happened:  I had officially lost control.



I had previously thought this career choice somehow trained me to protect myself from that suffocating, overwhelming feeling that I was Never-Gonna-Get-Anything-Finished-How-in-the-World-Will-I-Get-This-Mess-Organized panic that has been causing me to recently forget everything up until just five seconds prior to each conscious moment. I was wrong, and still can’t find my keys.



The craziness all started with testing. While this year went relatively smoothly, I did still have my moments of banging my head against the wall wondering, “Who writes this stuff?!?” (hence the topic of Draft #1 sitting on my desktop!). Then came open house, end-of-year school play, benchmark testing, report cards, and getting ready for summer school and next year.



Oh, and did I mention I’m getting married in a month?



Yes, I’m getting married in a month. I never mentioned it before because having the opportunity to write this blog somehow made me feel so much more “responsible” about my work that I wanted to keep my personal life and work life separate in any way possible. I thought it was good practice to keep them separated. I also thought I could get away with it. “Just make the decision to not think about work when you get home,” people would tell me. “Just remember, it’s just a job,” they would say.



WERE THEY OUT OF THEIR MINDS?!?



::Taking a deep breath:: Ladies and gentlemen…I am here to personally testify against the myth that balancing work life and family life is not achieved by mere, self-inflicted amnesia every 3:30 p.m. M-F.



No. It takes much more work and actual thought to ensure that you will remain sane as your two worlds constantly tango for brain space. You will never be able to forget that you have a spouse or children when you walk into work, so assuming that forgetting your students, along with their daily challenges and triumphs, will be possible as you walk through your front door is equally impossible, even if you did get all your planning ready for the next day.



The greatest realization I have come to, is that while I’ve a refrained from “bringing my work home,” I also need to be careful about bringing my home to work.



“Home” never really came to work with me before, but now I have planning I have to do that distracts me from my thoughts on our lessons. Responsibilities I have to take care of on my breaks, and stress that I have to keep reminding myself is just a product of too much going on, and not a product of my day.



I know if my students were going through crazy emotions, I would slow everything down for them and schedule time to decompress. If our day gets messed up or our schedule goes out the window, I try to take 5 minutes to regroup. I am essentially attempting these strategies on myself.



I am now “re-scheduling” my daily activities to include my own chance to decompress and prioritize, a practice I think is important to keep up—even when things seem like they’re going perfectly—so that quiet build-up of stress doesn’t happen again.



 I’m not saying I have it all figured out, but I am saying that I now realize what a conscious effort is required to maintain a real balance in my life. A conscious effort that, in and of itself, takes time to plan and accommodate. If I had been more aware of this earlier on, maybe I wouldn’t have found myself stuck in the middle of a pile of books and papers having my Quarter-Life Crisis!

6 May 2010

Jennifer: Discovering DISES

Filed under: Blogger Jennifer, Inspiration, Professional development — Anna @ 1:19 pm
Jennifer I have to admit, it has been a little difficult to write about the CEC convention after looking at pictures of the flooding back in Nashville. With my own camera I took light- and people-filled photos of the Gaylord Opryland identical to those now captured by various news outlets and YouTube clips, showing the water that has overtaken the grounds. It is altogether heartbreaking and so eerie to think that less than two weeks ago, we were all together seeing old friends, making new ones, and having a fantastic time.



I have incredibly fond memories of this year’s conference. I learned so many new things and was introduced to a wide array of opportunities to grow that I had not previously known of. One of the eye-opening presentations that I attended was for and by CEC’s Division of International Special Education and Services (DISES), entitled “Becoming International.” I am embarrassed to say I had no idea that DISES existed before—a good reminder to get the most out of my CEC membership by investigating everything available to me (they didn’t tell me to say that, I promise…).

Listening to the presenters talk about how they were introduced to the world of international research and collaboration—either through university connections, Fulbright scholarships, or overseas teaching positions that bloomed into adventures beyond their expectations—really persuaded me to seek to grow in this arena. I would encourage anyone with a desire to grow professionally while learning about special education practices and research in other parts of the world to learn more about DISES on the CEC Web site and consider membership in this special interest division.



I think it is vital for us as professionals to constantly be in a state of forward motion and growth. There is so much research out there, so many small steps of progress being made, that cumulatively big things are happening and we need to be aware of them. I want to learn about how other countries work with, teach, and include individuals with special needs. The idea that I can someday become an expert in my field and share and learn with others around the world is an exciting thought.



It is wonderful to know that there are so many different opportunities out there—this summer’s co-sponsored international conference in Riga, Latvia, is just one of them. Special education is such a unique career field, and the depth of our potential impact only becomes more and more clear as time goes on. We are catalysts for social change and international partnership and understanding, and each day I understand a little more as to why I was pulled to this place.



My heart goes out to those in Nashville. It is such a shame that a period of time when so much good happened has ended on such a sad note.













28 April 2010

Jennifer: We’re Not Going Anywhere

Jennifer Last week I had the opportunity to attend the CEC 2010 Convention & Expo in Nashville. Along with fellow bloggers Kathy and Ellen, I spoke a little about what my class looks like and how it works, and was able to share some of my favorite blog entries.



Typically I find that conferences are good for making connections and gaining new insights and information regarding our careers. But this time, the conference doubled as a support group and strong reaffirmation that no matter what is happening in our government, no matter how many pink slips are given out, no matter how many meetings we have to endure just to continue to serve our students and families, we are still here. Special educators are not going anywhere.



There were more than 6,000 people in attendance. I met new teachers who were just interning or completing their student teaching, teachers who had been in the field for 10 years, and teachers who had retired but were returning to the field because they felt pulled back to their calling, their passion. U.S. Education Secretary Arne Duncan keynoted the Opening General Session, emphasizing the importance of education to a nation if it wants to thrive, and how each of our students deserves a “world-class education.” What a force we teachers are.



I typically feel out-of-place when I am with friends or involved in a discussion about what we all do for a living. When asked what I do, I usually say “I work in special education” or “I’m a teacher” and people either respond with “oh...that must be rewarding” or just move on to another topic altogether. When they do ask further questions, they are usually baffled by what goes on during my day.



But I felt right at home at the CEC conference. It was so refreshing to be surrounded not just by special educators and therapists/specialists in the field, but by their conversations. It is nice to have stories to compare and share, and to have people completely understand where you are coming from.



A special educator’s job is so hard to define. We don’t just teach; we are team managers, family advocates, and sometimes even part-time nurses, depending on the students. We have an emotionally and physically challenging job that is nothing like a desk job. We are caretakers who must be firm while still demonstrating the love we have for our students.



Our kids need us, our schools need us. In a way, what is happening with our districts resembles what we go through on a daily basis. Our jobs, like our classrooms, are being interrupted by unexpected challenges that need to be met with logic and patience. Our career planning, like our lesson planning, needs to be open-minded and flexible—now more than ever. We have to advocate for ourselves, just as we have taught our students to advocate for themselves from day one.



People who work in the field of special education don’t walk away when things get difficult. We push through and turn to each other for suggestions, support, and help. We are a tough breed and I personally feel that my training didn’t just prepare me for the classroom; it prepared me for the field as a whole.



This conference came at just the right time to provide me with much-needed encouragement and a reminder of just how strong we are as a community. I had a fantastic time, and I walked away with much more than I had expected.

20 April 2010

Jennifer: Taking Time to Make Mistakes

Jennifer Recently I have been feeling somewhat overwhelmed at work. My one class has split into five different programs just to meet everyone’s needs, and it has become much too easy to get caught up in lesson planning and assessments and forget my basic roles as a teacher.

I’ve been coming home stressed, always with a million things on my mind. I’ve tried to keep that stress out of my classroom, but it hasn’t been easy. With testing season coming up, I want to make sure I squeeze in all the lessons that I have planned. I realized that my students have been feeling overwhelmed too, and I know it is because my teaching is either too fast or too much. But with everything that needs to get done, it has been difficult to figure out where to make changes to our schedule.

I am currently taking courses to complete a second credential, and last week one of my classmates shared a story that inadvertently helped me put my whole “rushing” problem into perspective. She told about a time when she and her master teacher watched a little girl drop her cookie in the dirt during lunch. The student came over and asked if she could go wash it off. My classmate almost said “no” and for her to get her back to her seat, but the master teacher stopped her and told the little girl to go ahead.

When the little girl returned to her seat, she didn’t have the cookie with her. When asked what happened, she said that she couldn’t eat the cookie because when she washed it, it broke. The master teacher explained that because the student was given time to learn this lesson on her own, it will mean more to her than if they had just told her what would happen and sent her back to her seat to finish her lunch.

I wondered how I would have handled this situation. If I were in my classmate’s place, I may have just told the student what to do to, too concerned with the clock to realize the valuable “teachable moment” at hand.

When my classmate shared this story, I reminded myself that it is my role to slow down and guide my students. I remembered the importance of taking time to focus on what is happening in that moment, rather than the overall picture of the day.

I thought about how many times, especially recently, I have may have missed teachable moments in my own classroom, because I was too intent on making sure we fit in all of our activities. I remembered some of our recent math lessons when I have prompted students through an equation so they could experience the right steps and stay on track, rather than let them work through problems on their own and learn by making and fixing their own mistakes. I actually need to remember to make time to make mistakes.

Yes, I want my students to get phenomenal scores on everything they do, but more importantly, I want them to actually remember their lessons long-term. I want them to enjoy and be proud of their learning—and the only way they can do that is if they get to experience that “ah hah” feeling for themselves.

I haven’t told my classmate yet that her story was an “ah hah” moment for me. This was one of those lessons that I had to make some mistakes to learn, but will not soon forget.



 

30 March 2010

Jennifer: Pink Slip

Filed under: Blogger Jennifer, Teacher Support — Anna @ 8:40 am
Jennifer I am usually pretty inspired by my job. I get ideas for worksheets to make and lessons to plan, and most of the time my school day yields very uplifting and motivating side effects. Recently, though, the days have gotten more and more stressful, and what little motivation I have had has been channeled into writing my congressman.



As I wrote earlier, I came to my new district pretty late in the year. People at my old job urged me to make sure that my new teaching home is secure and stable, so that I wouldn’t get into any “unfortunate circumstances” down the line. Being the absolute last hire, I naively relied on the comfort of being in special education as a form of job security. I had never gotten a pink slip before; my old district was somehow able to protect me from the back and forth between the union, teachers, and the district, basically shielding me from the anguish that some of my friends were going through. I attended a couple of union meetings and, while I felt compassion for my co-workers, I never really understood what was going on there because I wasn’t “in it.”

This year has been the exact opposite experience. Needless to say, the pink slip arrived, and my warm welcome into educational politics was extended. I just feel SO unprepared for this. There are so many rules about what can be said, who can know what, who can ask questions and when, and so on. I haven’t been able to find any written rules for this whole thing, so I’m learning as I go.

The battle always appeared so simple from the outside looking in. I thought it was an easy matter of the union doing their best to help preserve jobs and represent teachers and the district working to meet them halfway within the bounds of the budget to find solutions. I didn’t expect I’d need to convince our union reps to fight for us. I didn’t expect to need to ask so many questions, just to find out what is going on. I didn’t expect this to be so political.



So a second battle begins every time I pull my car into the school parking lot. Behind the challenges and triumphs of every school day sits the lingering question of whether or not I will get the chance to do it all again next year. The best way to work through something like this, I have found, is to get a support group, and I have spoken with some teachers with stories of going through this process year after year. One teacher endured six years of pink slips before he finally had a year without one.



I think the more obstacles you face in a profession, the more you either want to run from it or want to fight to make it better. Fortunately, going through this has made me want to get more involved. Education is the backbone of society and, while other fields may also be vital to this country, none of them would exist or flourish without the education behind them.



If I could go back in time, I would have become much more involved over the past two years, would have spoken louder and stood longer by my co-workers who were getting their own pink slips. This process knocks a lot of good teachers out of the field, but I hope it doesn’t knock me out. Someday, I hope my pink slip stories will help me provide a little comfort and support to another young teacher.

16 March 2010

Jennifer: Good Bet

Jennifer I don’t typically start off a blog entry with a poker tournament flashback (because up until 24 hours ago I had nothing to flash back to), but here it goes.



Last night I had the privilege of attending a charity poker tournament to raise money for Conductive Education, more specifically, ConductAbility Inc., which is a program I have been working alongside in my classroom this year. I thought it would be a fun chance to meet people and share some stories, as well as a good opportunity to really “grasp the rules” of Texas Hold ‘Em.

So there I was at 8 p.m., sitting at a small table with very, very large men who could shuffle their chips in one hand without looking while I just stared at mine and felt the dreadful realization of what I was in for slowly wash over me. I knew I was in trouble when the first question out of the guy across from me was, “So what number tournament is this for you?” Um… does “number one” sound intimidating enough? I thought he must be kidding.

I started yapping about Conductive Education and asking everyone who they knew in the program and how they got involved. Apparently I didn’t get the memo that this was a regularly occurring poker tournament that just happened to be donating its proceeds to us that night. I was playing poker with the big boys, and it wasn’t a THING like playing online.



“Conductawha . .?” was the response I got from quite a few at my table (before the clock started and the sunglasses went on, of course). I didn’t really get to explain to them just how important the money being raised was. Recent news broadcasts in Pittsburgh and few other U.S. cities had acknowledged national Conductive Education Day, so I thought it might be nice to talk a little bit about what that really means.



Conductive Education “…is a way of life that teaches people with neuromotor impairments, such as Cerebral Palsy, how to become active participants in society.” The only reason I quoted that was because I honestly can’t put it any better. Conductive Education teaches the students to participate in their environment and build upon the strengths that they have. It is a form of education that pairs academics with physical awareness and I witness its tremendous value on a daily basis.



Our room probably looks like a typical OH classroom, except my students don’t stay in their wheelchairs. We have a “parking lot” where they park their chairs in the morning; they then walk with assistance to their seats, which are either wide stools or sled chairs. When they sit, they hold onto bars in front of them so they can stabilize themselves and focus on their computer/AAC screens.



When people visit our room, they are amazed at what our students can do. I think of it as building upon the old saying about accomplishing what we put our minds to. I have watched my students’ motivation and control translate directly into their ability and enthusiasm to connect to and use what we learn every day in class.



Before I assumed my current job position, I was unaware of Conductive Education. Seeing its benefits encourages me as a young educator to spread the word that this program is out there. While it may not be for everyone, I think it is important that families and individuals with neuromotor impairments know that it is an option to consider.



I’d like to mention that I wasn’t the first one out at the tournament. I did make it to the end of the first round, but it all happened so fast I couldn’t tell you how I did it. While I can’t express how AMAZINGLY AWESOME it would have been to kick all those guys’ butts as a rookie, I’m not bummed out. Switching to this new job so suddenly and so late in the summer was probably the biggest gamble I’ve ever taken — and it turned out to be the best bet I ever made.

1 March 2010

Jennifer: Learners Seeing Learners

Jennifer When I started my new job last fall, I needed to obtain a second credential in order to meet my students’ needs (well, and California’s…). I took one course on reading instruction, and the professor always emphasized the importance of students being able to “see themselves as readers.”



Day in and day out, I think about that as I encourage my students to read in groups, together as a class, and even when they work together using their various forms of communication to complete a task. Some of them are excellent readers, while others need consistent prompting. I’ve spent a lot of time trying to figure out how in the world to get my struggling students to “see themselves as readers” when it takes so much motivation and encouragement to even get them to try to read.

I’ve realized that before they see themselves as readers, they need to see themselves as learners.

I’ve written before about how there are gaps in my students’ learning simply due to how they access curriculum. Computers only scan so quickly, on-screen keyboards and even word-predict programs only type out as fast as the mouse moves, and focusing on material requires a great deal of muscle control. In order to fill in the gaps, I sneak in mini-lessons, develop transition games to at least introduce them to new material, and really try to touch on subjects that may have gotten passed over on the priority list.



While my students have been receptive to these lessons and have retained a lot of the information, the spike in motivation I saw when I started this new daily format has dwindled. I can’t keep changing our schedule around, so I need something else to keep them excited about learning.



So this past week I asked my students what they would learn about if they could choose any topic under the sun. I thought that if I let them take more control over their education, they would be much more engaged and begin to experience how much fun learning can be. We had a class discussion about how many amazing things there are to learn about in the world around us. But I knew I was in trouble when I reminded them that I am still in school; two of them looked at me like I was crazy and another one flat-out said, “What?? Why?!?” — like I had clearly missed the memo that said I could stop now if I wanted to. I don’t think some of my students really understand what it is like to discover something they want to learn about, all on their own.

Anyway, I let one student at random select something she really wanted to learn about, and she chose bugs, particularly ladybugs. I’ve never seen her jump so fast to use her DynaVox; I thought she was going to hit herself in the eye. So, in the spirit of old-fashioned experimentation, I’m planning some lessons and games about bugs this week, and I think I’m required to buy a ladybug habitat too, right? But if that level of excitement is the response I get, then the $14.95 plus shipping and handling will be totally worth it.

I hope that this will kind of be like “show-and-tell” — but instead of looking forward to choosing an item to share with the class, the students will be excited about sharing something they just learned.

Luckily, the state also requires me to take an assessment course, so I’ll simultaneously be tracking the effectiveness of this idea.  :-)

16 February 2010

Jennifer: All-or-Nothing Teaching

Jennifer When I first began teaching, I thought I would lose 15 pounds the first week. I figured I was getting enough exercise with all that moving around, so I put the gym off to the side and would only go when I could devote a full hour. Even if I had 30 minutes, I would just say “I’ll go when I can get a real workout” and again delay my gym date.



The result of my “all or nothing” attitude was actually an EXTRA 10 pounds by the end of the year. No joke. I am writing about this not to drum up support for my love of anything baked—especially  chocolate chip cookies—or in hopes of finding someone to commiserate with, but because I have recently found that the “all or nothing” approach that was so detrimental to my exercise habits has recently snuck its way into my teaching as well.

At the end of each week, I review the lessons that were planned and those that were never completed. I recently discovered that the list of lessons completed was much shorter than that of those waiting to be learned. At first I just thought it was because we move at a much slower pace . . . but I feel like that perspective essentially blames the students for how far we get. My students go at the pace that I set, move to the schedule I have put together. The problem was not in their learning needs, but rather in the fact that I would only teach certain subjects if we had at least a full 40 minutes to dedicate to them.

Our class schedule is blocked off in increments of 40 minutes that start with Goals/Communication, Language Arts, Math, and then Science and Social Science if we have time. Considering that each subject involves a class lesson (15 min.) and then modified independent work (25 min.) that requires the use of switch access and modified mouse/keyboards to complete, we usually go over the 40 minutes so that everyone can get their work done.



By the time we get to Science and Social Science, I typically look at the clock, see that we only have 25 minutes until lunch, and feel that we don’t have enough time to learn something new, so we do reading groups or daily review instead. It occurred to me that if I don’t break my “blocking” mentality, I will never expose my students to all of the subjects and lessons they require and are entitled to.



So I looked for times when I could sneak in lessons without detracting from their main goals. For example, our school has “Words of Wisdom,” where every week we are given a different quote to reflect on and discuss. I started taking time in the morning to also include biographies on the quoted individuals and connect the ideas to our social studies.



Instead of having “Communication Time,” during which the students are given conversation topics so they can practice using their communication devices, I started putting science and math word problems up on the board for them to solve in pairs. This has actually helped my students’ comprehension by encouraging them to speak more and initiate conversation. Math is not necessarily their favorite subject, so this week I’m starting to use math riddles with pictures and have a competition to see which team gets it first.



For our restroom/getting settled time after recess, I started taking our huge science lessons and breaking them down into one-step building blocks that we would discuss and then complete a short activity on. For example, we are learning about cells right now, but the textbook throws so many concepts and new vocabulary at my students (whose science background is not necessarily consistent) that I am literally breaking the whole chapter down into 10-to-15 minutes lessons that can be built upon and completed whenever we get a small chunk of time. I am also doing this for our social studies.



I have found that these little chunks are great transition tools because I can conduct oral quizzes and see what my students remember, and they participate like it’s a little game. I’m sure I’ll come up with new ideas of how to fit more into our schedule, but this was a start.



This last week was the first time we really tried out this whole “sneaking in curriculum” thing. But by the end, my students had reached all curriculum areas and retained more information than in previous weeks. The flow of the class was also more relaxed because we weren’t just jumping from one block of information to the next. I think learning is easier to incorporate and feels more “natural” when it isn’t so regimented. Just like with exercise, I think showing my students that even a little bit goes a long way will help them maintain a healthy outlook toward learning overall.

2 February 2010

Jennifer: A Byproduct of Budget Cuts

Jennifer I have to admit, although I am overjoyed at my new job and absolutely love my work, the looming discussion of budget cuts is making me a nervous wreck. It has definitely affected me, not only in how much money I’ve been putting away lately and how much spending I have personally cut back on, but in the decisions I make for my class as well.

Last summer, I spoke with so many teachers who had gotten pink-slipped. They all had thousands and thousands of dollars’ worth of learning materials stored away in their garages—materials they had purchased themselves. Some of those teachers were unable to find jobs again or changed careers altogether; of the ones who were lucky enough to find new employment, some were unable to get the same placement or grade level as before and had to go out and buy all new stuff. Granted, most districts supply their teachers with money to help them supplement curriculum materials, but the budgets aren’t necessarily huge and sometimes teachers are forced to go way out of their way and wallet to get materials that their students really need.

I’m usually one of those teachers who jump at a new learning game or book that will help my students. But lately, I find myself walking around the learning store just long enough to convince myself that I can actually make half the materials or just teach the subject a different way, so I will put the items back on the shelf.



The uncertainty so many of us have been carrying around day-in and day-out has sparked conservation on every level. I’ve made lists that span from how I can stretch a single learning tool for as many tasks as possible, to how I can keep from buying more books and make the ones I have last longer and be more functional. When I arrived at my new classroom last fall, I discovered the teacher before me had torn her workbooks apart and kept the pages in page protectors somewhat cataloged in binders. I found that this method not only keeps the pages nice and makes for easy copying, but because the workbooks are dissected, I use them so much more frequently than I would if they were just on a shelf. It was a lesson in really making my books work for me. While that has helped me stretch my existing books, I have also been making a lot of my own worksheets, data sheets, and planners to keep from buying new, expensive workbooks.



While this conserving mentality has helped me keep my sanity, it has also changed how I teach and how I feel when I am teaching. I think all of this extra time spent creating and planning has drawn me a little closer to what I am teaching. I feel so much more in control of how we are learning, even though I am still following the same guidelines and standards that I always have. I can catalog my own lessons that correspond closely to our textbooks, but still feel like I am tailoring the lessons for my students.



It’s not like this is the first time I’ve ever created a task, but really I think it’s the consistent making of worksheets and activities for each subject that has changed the way I view our curriculum. I have “go-to” books for certain subjects, and I know what the worksheets look like and how I can use them, but when I am making my own worksheets to teach a concept I’ve gone over a hundred times before, it makes me think about it like it’s the first time I taught it. I may even be putting the same old graph or information on the paper, but I enjoy considering how I can creatively present it and make the pages and information work around the lesson. In some ways I prefer this to planning a lesson around how I am going to break down and present an already-made worksheet.



Even with the pending budget cuts, there is still so much to be enjoyed and created to take my mind off of the stress and uncertainty. It’s hard to be a teacher sometimes, especially when I am constantly feeling insecure. But I feel like the growth and experiences I’ve gone through so far this year have made it all very much worthwhile.

20 January 2010

Jennifer: Real-Life Learning

Filed under: Blogger Jennifer, Instructional Strategies — Anna @ 3:25 pm
JenniferWhen I am teaching, it is usually easy to break down topics into bite-sized pieces that my students can understand. Reading, for example, is relatively simple to break down once I recognize which sounds or blends are giving them trouble. And math is fun because, once I figure out which step is challenging them, I can pull out that one step and come up with all sorts of games and activities to focus on it until my students are ready to pick up the math program where they left off.

But then there is science . . . yikes. My students have been learning about atoms, elements, compounds, the whole shebang. We read the book chapters together, we studied the parts, we conducted the experiments, we tested the vocabulary. But after two weeks, my students still looked right through me. I would ask them what an atom is, and a couple of them would try to explain to me that it is a man in the Bible. No joke.

Then one day, out of quiet desperation, I gathered my students on the floor around me while I quickly reviewed the notes on how I was going to, once again, explain this huge concept to them. I began my mini-lecture and soon realized that no matter how I ordered the topics or how many times I emphasized the fact that we are all made up of tiny microscopic pieces that they can’t see with their eyes called atoms (not Adams) I was still going to get the same blank stare.



Then it hit me. They can’t see these things with their eyes. Even if I hold a chunk of gold in my hand, the whole concept behind it is so immense that it’s no wonder they had trouble with it…it was just facts and words that might as well have been a foreign language. I needed to make science much more tangible and connect it to their lives; otherwise, they were never going to get it.



I began to explain science like a cooking lesson. I told them that elements are ingredients, and each element is made up of tiny atoms with the same property. (Please note that even as we went along, I was frantically racking my brain for the next steps . . . but I was confident we were headed in the right direction.) I talked about our cooking lessons with our big buddies, and how when we had a cup of sugar it was one ingredient, but the individual grains of sugar…still sugar… together made up the whole amount—just like atoms make up the whole element.



The connections and explanations went on and on, and the blank stares slowly changed into looks of intrigue. My students started asking questions about elements coming together in different combinations, like recipes, that make up our environment. They started talking about matter and physical and chemical properties. I could have done a back flip, I was so thrilled.



Luckily, we had a cooking lesson planned for the next day, so I had the perfect chance to ask them about what they remembered. As we went through the cooking lesson, I kept referencing our science lesson. They finally…finally…understood.



I think this whole experience taught me two lessons. First, I had to be willing to ditch the plans I had been working on for two weeks. In a heartbeat, my whole lecture was scrapped for an off-the-wall, spur-of-the-moment instance of desperate explanation. I had to let go of the “eventually you will understand this if I keep trying to order it appropriately” attitude and realize that it wasn’t the order that was the problem, it was the entire lesson material. Oy. It gives me a headache just to think about it.



Second, I have to remember to not only make every lesson an experience, but also to make it one that my students are familiar with. I can put 10,000 antacid tablets into various temperatures of water to explain chemical reactions, but if they don’t understand what an antacid tablet is, they aren’t going to walk away with anything but a mental picture of me spilling water all over the floor because I underestimated the amount of gas that would be produced.



 . . . Not that that has ever happened!

6 January 2010

Jennifer: The Effect of a Single Teacher

Filed under: Blogger Jennifer, Inspiration, Teacher Support — Anna @ 5:47 pm
Jennifer I originally had an entirely different blog in mind, but just like in special education, life has its way of forcing us to be flexible, especially in unfortunate circumstances.



Early this week I was informed that a professor who mentored me through my credential and master’s program—and beyond—had passed away. I was amazed at the effect this had on me, and I have come to realize that if there is anything to encourage a teacher to stay positive and passionate no matter what, it is the example set by a single teacher who did just that.



Jeanne was a tremendous life force to so many people. Always on the cutting edge of research and technology’s impact on education, she was involved in projects that improved the lives of children with disabilities while simultaneously and enthusiastically teaching and inspiring us to do the same. She was the kind of person who did not just visit us and teach us because it was what she was paid to do…it was her passion. She took us under her wing and shared everything she could with us. She gave us her love for this field.

I’ve been thinking about what it means to be a good educator. I’ve always appreciated my teachers, but some have had a bit more of a lasting impact on my life, one that I hope to someday impart on someone else’s life. Jeanne was one of those educators, and for me one of her greatest legacies was in how she handled difficult situations.

Even as an adult in my credential classes, I remember noting occasional small changes in my instructors’ moods. I knew when some teachers were frustrated by our lack of participation, or upset with our lateness coming back from break. There were times I was possibly one of those students who made a teacher feel unappreciated.



Jeanne never drew attention to whether or not she felt we were distracted or disinterested. Instead, she redirected us, teaching us by example. I noticed that if we were tuning out, she told a story. If we were tired, she changed the format of the lesson. If we were having problems with our classes or family lives, she stopped and listened to us. She moved the class around us so that it was our class, rather than just one we were attending. Our learning was a group effort, and every one of us felt valued in the process.



Outside of our credential classes, Jeanne was our mentor and helped us transition into the teacher role. Becoming a special educator does not just mean getting a new job; it means learning to balance and integrate a whole new set of emotions into your life. There are frustrations and challenges that credential programs will never be able to fully replicate, and they have a funny way of seeping into our entire world. It’s hard to leave our work at school, and frequently we take it home with us.



When I think about what makes a good mentor, I realize it is so much more than just giving good advice, answering questions, and making sure your mentees are enjoying themselves at work. Being a good mentor means recognizing the whole process of becoming a teacher, and that is just what Jeanne did. She took us on and guided us through our new sense of life, as a whole. And her extraordinary personality and point of view encouraged me to learn and grow.



When mentors and educators are able to teach so much through their life’s work and outlook, rather than solely by what they ask us to read and write, it is a life-changing gift. I know for a fact that I will never read anything even remotely related to the brain and how it processes information (her passion) without thinking about Jeanne. She changed the way I saw my own life and its purpose, and I can only hope to be even a fraction of the teacher she was to us.



I hope to emulate these lessons in my own teaching, and perhaps someday help someone enter this field as joyfully and enthusiastically as I was helped. It’s altogether heartbreaking to lose someone who has led us so far—but uplifting to know they left footsteps for us to follow.

29 December 2009

Jennifer: Report Card Season

Filed under: Assessment, Blogger Jennifer, Progress Monitoring — Anna @ 10:49 am
Jennifer Report card season is here again. Is it strange that I’m as nervous about it as I was when I was the person receiving one?



I’ve always felt guilty about sending home report cards, and I never understood exactly why special educators needed to fill out the exact same report cards as general educators. I’m not referring to the goal progress reports, but the actual report card form that accompanies them.

I feel that when a student who receives special education services (particularly in a moderate/severe setting) is graded on grade-level curriculum, it can appear that he or she isn’t making any progress. As an educator, it’s hard to give low scores when you know how much hard work is going toward building the student’s skills. I’ve always felt like I needed to strike a delicate balance when reporting to parents of students in special education; in spite of the lower academics or scores, I still want them to feel encouraged by what their children are achieving overall.

I realize that schools need to have a consistent report across campus to demonstrate school growth as a whole, and I think some parents appreciate knowing what their students would otherwise be working on, but in the past I never felt that this system was right for my students. Basically I was grading them on what their grade-level peers in general education were working on, which meant that my students received low grades, or “not introduced,” because they just weren’t ready for most grade-level work.



After filling out the reports, I would feel so bad that I would attach a novel-length note to their goal progress reports that went over all the little improvements they had made so their parents could still understand their growth. Every quarter I said things like, “Wait! Don’t get discouraged! Who cares if they can multiply? They can sort!!” Of course I would then explain why sorting is so important, especially considering that their child wouldn’t sit for five minutes at the beginning of the year. But even still, it was always difficult to show just how hard my students were working and how much they were progressing when, in the same envelope, I was handing the parents a report that displayed all the tasks they weren’t ready for or were making improvement toward.



I thought it would be cool if special educators were allowed to break down the general education report card like we do with curriculum so students could be scored on what sub-categories of grade-level subjects they were working on, rather than the subject as a whole. For example, I have had students who were beginning to understand that coins have different values and could count small amounts of money, but they certainly weren’t ready to figure out their change or add large sums together. When it came to the report card, I had to give them a low grade for that area of math, but behind that score so much progress and understanding had taken place!



I’m really hoping things will be different this year at my new school. I will always feel nervous about translating student progress to parents, but one of the benefits of working in a specialized school is that we can somewhat tailor the report cards to our students. We still need to show growth as a class and assess curricular areas, but I am able to spend more time addressing their goals and academic tasks specific to their level rather than grading areas they are not ready for.



I may still need to attach a novel to explain just how much my students have grown, but if it helps parents become as excited about what their students are doing as we are in the classroom, then it’s worth it.





9 December 2009

Jennifer: Christmas Came Early This Year

Filed under: Blogger Jennifer, Classroom management, Managing Behavior — Anna @ 10:58 am
Jennifer

Just when I thought I had everything under control, I got an unexpected Christmas present . . . a new student. This messes everything up: all my scheduling, all the lessons and groupings. It even screws up our recess and lunch, but I could not possibly be any happier. I’ve learned to love it when this happens; it’s like a fresh start.



Maybe it was about time to scrap the old schedule anyway, and maybe this is a chance to see necessary improvements that we would not have considered otherwise. Honestly, this student is going to need our help BIG time if we are going to meet her goals. She not only has academic goals, but also major behavior goals that are really cutting into our lessons right now. But my class is being fantastic about it and I’ve never seen a group work together and encourage each other the way they have these past two weeks. It’s an amazing thing to see.



So that’s what I’m working on right now. It’s like I’m slipping back into last year when we were given a new student halfway through the year and he screamed up a storm for five out of six hours a day. I thought I was going to lose my mind until I realized “if I could just channel Della Reese from ‘Touched by an Angel’. . . ” maybe my reactions would be firm-but-loving rather than firm-but-you’re-on-my-last-nerve.



You see, I think these infrequent challenges are opportunities in disguise. I know I need a jolt every once in a while, which I used to hate. But I decided that if I look at it in the right light, it turns out to be a positive experience.



I’m going to try to channel Della Reese again now. This new student of mine likes to yell frequently and for long . . . long . . . periods of time. We can’t yell back, because honestly that would do no good. She needs firm structure, but if we were to yell she’d just have to yell over us to get her “point” across.



Instead of yelling, I’ve begun singing back at her, which has completely caught her off-guard and worked to break up her tantrums a few times, especially when I encourage her to sing along. It actually made her kind of smile a few times . . . I think. We sit patiently with her until she calms down, and then we work on getting her what she wants. Trying to weave in communication is essential, but very difficult. She’s a tough cookie, but I can’t shake the belief that we can get to her. Through all the screaming, there’s a kid in there.



My other students are angels. When our new student first had a screaming outbreak, they all looked incredibly alarmed (I may have looked a little alarmed as well—shocked would probably be more like it). We removed the student and someone sat with her while I spoke with the rest of the class about how we are really going to have to work together.



I told them I am going to need their help to demonstrate proper behavior and encourage her, as well as their patience and understanding when she’s having a difficult time. My one student, who by the way is proudly sitting up more consistently now, stated that he would try very hard. My other students either smiled or agreed with him. I felt like I would imagine parents do when they suddenly realize how much their kids have grown, almost overnight.



This recent “shake-up” to our schedule has made me realize how lucky I am to work where I do and with the people I do. Between my ridiculously understanding boss, the secretary who I’m pretty sure is the heartbeat of the school, the teachers (and I include the paraeducators here because I learn new things from them every day), and my students, I feel like I have a new family.



Starting this new job has been the roughest transition I’ve ever made, because I missed my friends and the security I felt at my old school. Because of the pace of work we do, I think the change took a few months to really sink in. When we got our “new addition,” I realized just how tough a job this is going to be. At the same time, I felt so grateful; if anyone is going to make a positive change for this student, my team members are the ones to do it.



It’s pretty amazing how when everything falls apart, it makes you realize just how much you have.

25 November 2009

Jennifer: Mission: Literacy

Jennifer Reading instruction and assessments have been at the forefront of my mind lately. I am currently taking a course for a second credential specific to the various methods of reading instruction, including read-alouds, shared reading, literacy circles, and so on. This is a repeat class for me because my units from one university didn’t carry over. I got an A in it the first time, so I thought it would be a piece of cake. I was so wrong.



When we take the quizzes on what each lesson structure is, I get a good grade . . . no sweat. But when I go into detail about how I actually use the different methods in my classrooms, the “alterations” that are necessary to meet the needs of my kids either cause huge confusion or deviate from the structure so much that, really, I’m just teaching reading my own way. But what else can I do? My students have needs that require changes to be made.

For example, for Shared Reading Instruction and Guided Reading, I need to do everything digitally. I have to make PowerPoint/KeyNote presentations in order to help my students focus on the front of the room and be able read the text. For some of my students, text that is too close requires more movement to scan, which requires more muscle control, which takes away from focus and comprehension of the text altogether. Also, our “Word Wall” is done the same way so I can also put it on my students’ computers and make frequent changes.

Oh, and their books? Those are on their computers as well. I take pictures of the illustrations and type the text into a program called Clicker 5 so the students can read the text, have the text read to them while they follow along, and turn the pages by clicking the “next” button.



Despite all this, assessment forms such as a Reading Record don’t even come close to truly illustrating my students’ comprehension and reading capabilities. This is because there is also a communication component involved in my class, and my students aren’t always able to express what they have read or what they don’t understand because they are simultaneously progressing in their ability to use their communication devices and switches.



And one more thing: I always need to consider that motivation factor that is so integral to helping students realize and reach their potential. Some of my students are in 6th and 7th grade. They honestly don’t want to read about Sam and Ann looking for apples. Yes, they need the “short /a/” lesson, and it may be written at an appropriate level. But reading takes time and if it is boring then they are reluctant to participate, making assessment very difficult.



. . . So I write new books. Is that so wrong? I write about things they might actually like, including themselves—little biographies (that include the short /a/ sound) that encourage them to read because they are the main characters and quite frankly they want to see what’s going to happen to them next. I consider these “teacher-made tests” for most purposes, but I could never use them for a Reading Record in my class because it is not part of a regular curriculum. The problem is that my students just don’t perform the same way on assessments that bring them back to Sam and Ann and their great apple-picking escapade.



I test my students based on their comprehension answers to texts. I test my students based on their correct identification of sight words, even if it is out of a field of three. I test my kids based on what I know they will be able to participate in. I completely support my district in its need to present progress data to the state, but this state never really tested my ability to handle this teaching situation. I had a sink-or-swim lesson in special education literacy instruction.



“OK, what’s your point, Jen?” All teachers take the same Reading Instruction Competency Assessment (RICA), but I have yet to see a case study that includes a child with special needs. Every student deserves effective reading instruction, and every teacher deserves to be prepared to reach any child. A physical impairment does not necessarily mean there is also a cognitive impairment, and if a student has a communication impairment that hinders reading assessment it should not be assumed that he or she cannot retain reading instruction.



Teachers who are ready to accept those capable students and work with them so their education is adequate are so needed right now, both in special education and in general education. I do see the incredible value of structured literacy lessons . . . but I think it is important that up-and-coming teachers (particularly in special education) realize how many accommodations may be necessary in order to make reading truly accessible to all students and feel comfortable taking that initiative to deviate a little from what they’ve been taught. It’s great to have a variety of approaches to teaching in your back pocket, but it is also great to know that you can be flexible. Yes, there is an “order” to how lessons are designed to be taught, but the bottom line is that the students’ needs must be met.



By the way, if you have seen a RICA case study that includes a child with special needs, please let me know. I am learning and trying to grow as much as possible, and I appreciate all the insight I can get from other professionals in this field.

Powered by WordPress

Bad Behavior has blocked 314 access attempts in the last 7 days.