I've been wanting to write about this friend since the first day or two of school, but have hesitated because I just don't know how to approach it. She's a darling little sprite of a girl, with tangled brown hair, huge brown eyes, and toothpick thin arms and legs. The youngest of seven, she has been at home with Mom her entire life and has never even been left with a babysitter outside of immediate family members. She has an engaging grin, a mischievous sense of fun, and a thin piping little voice. She also functions on the level of a 2 year old.
Toddler Girl cannot sit in a chair. She crawls all over it, crawls under the table, dances beside it, but does not sit. Toddler Girl interacts with the other children by pinching, poking, waving her hands in their faces, doing whatever she can to provoke them. She then giggles when they start to yell. Toddler Girl cannot write, trace, or recognize her name and still holds a crayon with a fist grip. She tries to eat the play dough, draws on the walls and posters, and pours sand on the floor. The other children are quickly turning on her. If they were a bunch of chickens they would all be gathered around pecking Toddler Girl to death right about now. It's almost impossible for me to drum up feelings of acceptance and support for her when she undermines me at every turn by snatching toys, scratching the others, or coloring on their papers and then laughing in delight when they start to shriek in fury.
Because Toddler Girl had absolutely no interactions with anyone associated with the school before walking into my classroom that early Monday morning, no one knew of her developmental delays. And her mother is completely in denial, telling us over and over that it's all because her older brothers and sisters do everything FOR her, that she will catch up now that she's away from them. I don't know how to tell Mom that she is wrong and Toddler Girl needs way more help than I can give her in a class of nearly 20 other kids.
Everyone at the school is in agreement, Toddler Girl is headed for the special ed program. But because Mom is fighting us, it is going to take a while. So I may be babysitting her for another month or so. In the meantime, I have to come up with a way to help the other children accept her for who she is and what she can do. I've been making a point of trying to spend some of each day's centers time playing with Toddler Girl. This serves a two-fold purpose. It allows me to model interactive play for her (right now, like any 2 year old, she mostly engages in parallel play). It also draws other children over, because fewer things are more tempting to the average K kid than a chance to play with the teacher. Once I get a little group playing around Toddler Girl I try to ease myself out of the picture and observe. Unfortunately, as soon as I depart the play tends to fall apart because Toddler Girl will snatch a toy from someone, knock down a tower they were building, or smash their play-dough creation and then giggle with delight at the reaction.
Our standard discipline plan at school involves a pocket of colored cards and a misbehaving child being told to move his/her card to the next color. Each color has a specific consequence, most of which involve missing varying amounts of recess or centers time. This is completely ineffective for Toddler Girl, as she cannot remember why she has flipped her cards and is now devastated to miss play time. In her eyes I am just being mean and making her sit when others play, there is absolutely no connection between "well, I pinched Sally during morning circle, so now I'm missing 5 mins of recess an hour later". I am probably going to have to suspend flipping cards with her and simply send her straight into time out for misbehavior.
Van Gogh finds Toddler Girl particularly irritating and I spend much of my day trying to keep the two as far apart as possible. She LOVES his over-the-top screaming reactions to her incessant teasing, poking, and bothering and is absolutely delighted if she can send him off his nut into a raging tantrum. I actually went so far on Thursday as to corner Van Gogh, a very bright boy, and say pointedly "You do not go into a center where Toddler Girl is. If she comes into the center where you are, you need to move. She loves making you scream and when you scream you get in trouble. STAY AWAY from Toddler Girl!" Horrible of me, I know, but if she keeps provoking him Van Gogh is going to wind up crossing the line and hurting her. So far his outbursts this year have been confined to screaming and crying fits, but I know from his preschool teacher that if he is pushed far enough he will erupt physically.
Needless to say, I have my hands completely full with this class. And there are so many other friends I haven't introduced yet!
Sunday, August 31, 2008
Saturday, August 23, 2008
Week One
I've finished my first week with this new class and, oh my! Do I have a cast of characters for this year!
Basic stats - 16 total, 9 boys and 7 girls. Two with asthma, two who have already been dx with ADD/ADHD, one who has mild mental retardation and needs to be in special ed (working on that!), one that came to me from the special ed preschool but doesn't score low enough to stay in special ed, one that cries until she pukes when Mom drops her off in the morning, and one who has anger management issues (to put it mildly!). There is a huge age variance in this group - 1/4 of them will be 6 before October, over 1/2 of them have birthdays in April, May and June.
Today I want to introduce my friend with anger management issues. Let's call him Van Gogh. Why? Well, he's unstable, easily irritated, prone to outrageous fits of screaming and throwing things, but also a very talented artist who is most at peace when drawing or creating.
Van Gogh came through our preschool program, which means Kindergarten is his second year in the public school system. Thank God for his wonderful, patient, and firm preschool teacher because she weathered the worst of his behavioral storms. In preschool he was known for throwing screaming, kicking, writhing tantrums and had to be removed from the classroom on several occasions because he could not pull it back together. On the last day of preschool, angry that he was missing a few minutes of recess as punishment for some bad behavior, he removed his glasses, snapped them in 1/2, threw them on the ground, and stomped on them. Yes, a delightful child indeed!
Van Gogh is a walking reminder of how self centered a 5 year old child truly is. More than once this week I would call on him to answer a question, listen to and validate his answer, then call on someone else to answer the next question only to have him whine and cry because HE didn't get called on again. At then end of centers time the first day he actually threw a crayon at me because he didn't want to stop working on the picture he was making. But yesterday, the Friday of the first week, we saw our first all out fit.
Van Gogh was in his second favorite center, building a large blocks tower with his only friend. I had issued several warnings that is was almost clean up time (mostly for Van Gogh's benefit, he needs 5, 2 and 1 minute warnings so that he can shift gears without melting down) then flicked the lights off and on in our established "clean up now" signal. Van Gogh yelled across the room for me to come see the tower he and his friend had built. Before I could get there one of my other little guys ran over and kicked the tower, knocking it to the ground. To put it mildly, Van Gogh lost his f'ing mind! Threw himself on the fallen tower, screaming incoherently at the top of his lungs, tears pouring down his face. The boy who had kicked the tower froze, hands clamped over his ears, and stared at Van Gogh in panicked disbelief. I crouched down, put one hand on the kicker's leg to keep him there, and started rubbing Van Gogh's back while loudly saying his name. After about 30 ear splitting seconds he paused for a breath and I quickly interjected "Van Gogh! STOP IT RIGHT NOW!" Yes, I know that sounds harsh, but his preschool teacher had assured me it was the best way to get him to stop screaming long enough to get him to talk/listen to you. Van Gogh shifted from screams to more moderate sobbing and kept saying "But I wanted to show it to you and HE kicked it!" I assured him I understood his frustration, had the other boy apologize and help Van Gogh clean up the mess, and was just starting to stand up when a hand fell on my shoulder.
Remember that I have christened my assistant principal Mrs. Pop for her lovely habit of popping in when least expected or wanted? Guess who's hand that was? You got it, there stands an appalled looking Mrs. Pop, asking if I needed any help. Apparently the office had buzzed down on the intercom to tell me something, heard Van Gogh in full tantrum, tracked down Mrs. Pop from where ever she happened to be, and sent her to my room at a run. Don't get me wrong, I appreciate the support and I am sure there will be times this year that Van Gogh will need to have a heart-to-heart with Mrs. Pop, but at this moment all I could think was "I JUST got him calmed down and if he sees you he is going to freak out again!" Sure enough, as soon as Van Gogh saw her standing there he started to cry again, just cry thank God not scream his head off, and she took him to a quiet part of the room for a little talk. Whatever she said to him must have worked, because the tears dried up *likethat* and he docilely went back to cleaning up the blocks.
So we add Van Gogh to the list of interesting characters populating my classroom this year. And I add his real name to the increasingly lengthy list of things I will never name a child of my own!
Basic stats - 16 total, 9 boys and 7 girls. Two with asthma, two who have already been dx with ADD/ADHD, one who has mild mental retardation and needs to be in special ed (working on that!), one that came to me from the special ed preschool but doesn't score low enough to stay in special ed, one that cries until she pukes when Mom drops her off in the morning, and one who has anger management issues (to put it mildly!). There is a huge age variance in this group - 1/4 of them will be 6 before October, over 1/2 of them have birthdays in April, May and June.
Today I want to introduce my friend with anger management issues. Let's call him Van Gogh. Why? Well, he's unstable, easily irritated, prone to outrageous fits of screaming and throwing things, but also a very talented artist who is most at peace when drawing or creating.
Van Gogh came through our preschool program, which means Kindergarten is his second year in the public school system. Thank God for his wonderful, patient, and firm preschool teacher because she weathered the worst of his behavioral storms. In preschool he was known for throwing screaming, kicking, writhing tantrums and had to be removed from the classroom on several occasions because he could not pull it back together. On the last day of preschool, angry that he was missing a few minutes of recess as punishment for some bad behavior, he removed his glasses, snapped them in 1/2, threw them on the ground, and stomped on them. Yes, a delightful child indeed!
Van Gogh is a walking reminder of how self centered a 5 year old child truly is. More than once this week I would call on him to answer a question, listen to and validate his answer, then call on someone else to answer the next question only to have him whine and cry because HE didn't get called on again. At then end of centers time the first day he actually threw a crayon at me because he didn't want to stop working on the picture he was making. But yesterday, the Friday of the first week, we saw our first all out fit.
Van Gogh was in his second favorite center, building a large blocks tower with his only friend. I had issued several warnings that is was almost clean up time (mostly for Van Gogh's benefit, he needs 5, 2 and 1 minute warnings so that he can shift gears without melting down) then flicked the lights off and on in our established "clean up now" signal. Van Gogh yelled across the room for me to come see the tower he and his friend had built. Before I could get there one of my other little guys ran over and kicked the tower, knocking it to the ground. To put it mildly, Van Gogh lost his f'ing mind! Threw himself on the fallen tower, screaming incoherently at the top of his lungs, tears pouring down his face. The boy who had kicked the tower froze, hands clamped over his ears, and stared at Van Gogh in panicked disbelief. I crouched down, put one hand on the kicker's leg to keep him there, and started rubbing Van Gogh's back while loudly saying his name. After about 30 ear splitting seconds he paused for a breath and I quickly interjected "Van Gogh! STOP IT RIGHT NOW!" Yes, I know that sounds harsh, but his preschool teacher had assured me it was the best way to get him to stop screaming long enough to get him to talk/listen to you. Van Gogh shifted from screams to more moderate sobbing and kept saying "But I wanted to show it to you and HE kicked it!" I assured him I understood his frustration, had the other boy apologize and help Van Gogh clean up the mess, and was just starting to stand up when a hand fell on my shoulder.
Remember that I have christened my assistant principal Mrs. Pop for her lovely habit of popping in when least expected or wanted? Guess who's hand that was? You got it, there stands an appalled looking Mrs. Pop, asking if I needed any help. Apparently the office had buzzed down on the intercom to tell me something, heard Van Gogh in full tantrum, tracked down Mrs. Pop from where ever she happened to be, and sent her to my room at a run. Don't get me wrong, I appreciate the support and I am sure there will be times this year that Van Gogh will need to have a heart-to-heart with Mrs. Pop, but at this moment all I could think was "I JUST got him calmed down and if he sees you he is going to freak out again!" Sure enough, as soon as Van Gogh saw her standing there he started to cry again, just cry thank God not scream his head off, and she took him to a quiet part of the room for a little talk. Whatever she said to him must have worked, because the tears dried up *likethat* and he docilely went back to cleaning up the blocks.
So we add Van Gogh to the list of interesting characters populating my classroom this year. And I add his real name to the increasingly lengthy list of things I will never name a child of my own!
Saturday, August 16, 2008
Fresh new faces
Ok, so I was right, summer wasn't the right time to start my blog. I wound up doing my damnest to forget that school even existed over the summer, instead focusing on Will and Robby and reveling in the SAHM part of my year.
But it's now 2 weeks before Labor Day and in my district, that means school bells are a-ringing! We had Open House last week and 75% of my incoming class managed to toddle in, accompanied by older siblings, parents, grandparents, and assorted other family and friends to meet me, see our classroom, and put away those new school supplies. Or... rather, the less than half that actually brought their school supplies put them away. The others made vague promises about shopping this weekend and having things on Monday. Methinks I had better stock up this weekend so I have extras on hand to share with my new friends!
After only a few minutes with each family I can see some interesting stories coming from this class. In the spirit of keeping my blog as non-specific as possible, my new friends will all get nicknames this year - at least the ones that do something blog-worthy. First up - Princess. Or, as she would say it, Pwintheth.
Princess is a tiny blonde little fairy, who flits around the room eagerly examining the toys while her mother corners me to tell me exactly how Princess' year is going to go. Topic #1 - Lunch. Princess is a picky eater you see, extremely picky, and Mother is afraid Princess is going to starve herself to death over the course of a school day. There are only 4 or 5 foods Princess will allow across her cherry red lips, so Mother will be packing her lunch each day. BUT! The family qualifies for free lunch and Mother doesn't want that food to go to waste. SO! Princess will also need to take a lunch tray each day, just in case there is anything on it she might want to eat. At this point I stopped Mother, in complete disbelief, and said slowly "So..... Princess will have TWO lunches each day? One from home and one from school?" Mother laughed a tinkly aren't-I-so-silly giggle and said "Yes, but she will probably throw most of it away!"
Sidebar - I live/work in a district where nearly 75% of our kids qualify for free or reduced lunch prices. I know damn good and well that for some of these kids, that school provided breakfast and lunch is the best meal they get all day. Many of them clean their plates and ask wistfully for seconds, knowing I can't actually get them extra helpings. In addition to that, with soaring food prices worldwide there are children starving to death every minute of every day. But Princess is going to have 2 lunches every day, most of which she will throw away? Are you f'ing kidding me? Anyway, back to my conversation with Queen Mother.
Topic #2 - Princess' cell phone. Sadly, I don't mean a toy cell phone, or even a non-working real phone her mother has given her to play with. No, Princess has a real, functional cell phone that will be in her backpack each day "in case of emergencies". I asked Mother exactly what emergencies she thought might come up that would require Princess to have access to her very own phone. She waved her hands around and said "Well, her father is deployed right now and there were all those school shootings a few years ago and, well, um.... she just has it! But she knows not to play with it!" I thought for a moment and then told Mother I supposed it was alright for Princess to have under, under the condition that I never saw or heard it. But if it is out, being played with, shown off, or used in a non-emergency OR if it starts ringing during the school day and interrupts my lessons, I will be confiscating it and taking it to the principal's office where Mother will have to get it back herself.
Sidebar, again - What 5/6 year old needs their own cell phone? REALLY?!? I have a cell phone, which is turned off during the day so it won't ring and interrupt my class. The office has 3 separate phone lines. The bus drivers all carry cell phones AND have radio contact with the school at all times. At what point does Queen Mother think we are so going to fail her child that Princess is going to need to whip out her own cellie and call for help? As for her father being deployed, while you have my utmost sympathy and respect, how exactly does that figure into Princess' need for a phone? Are you going to call her during the day to give her updates?
The silver lining here is that Princess herself seems like a lovely child. Well spoken, well mannered, obeyed instantly when her mother called her over to meet me, made eye contact and smiled broadly. Hopefully she and I will get along splendidly and I will just nod my head as Mother continues to attempt to make me bubble wrap her world.
I met several other interesting characters, big and small, at Open House but will save their stories for future posts.
But it's now 2 weeks before Labor Day and in my district, that means school bells are a-ringing! We had Open House last week and 75% of my incoming class managed to toddle in, accompanied by older siblings, parents, grandparents, and assorted other family and friends to meet me, see our classroom, and put away those new school supplies. Or... rather, the less than half that actually brought their school supplies put them away. The others made vague promises about shopping this weekend and having things on Monday. Methinks I had better stock up this weekend so I have extras on hand to share with my new friends!
After only a few minutes with each family I can see some interesting stories coming from this class. In the spirit of keeping my blog as non-specific as possible, my new friends will all get nicknames this year - at least the ones that do something blog-worthy. First up - Princess. Or, as she would say it, Pwintheth.
Princess is a tiny blonde little fairy, who flits around the room eagerly examining the toys while her mother corners me to tell me exactly how Princess' year is going to go. Topic #1 - Lunch. Princess is a picky eater you see, extremely picky, and Mother is afraid Princess is going to starve herself to death over the course of a school day. There are only 4 or 5 foods Princess will allow across her cherry red lips, so Mother will be packing her lunch each day. BUT! The family qualifies for free lunch and Mother doesn't want that food to go to waste. SO! Princess will also need to take a lunch tray each day, just in case there is anything on it she might want to eat. At this point I stopped Mother, in complete disbelief, and said slowly "So..... Princess will have TWO lunches each day? One from home and one from school?" Mother laughed a tinkly aren't-I-so-silly giggle and said "Yes, but she will probably throw most of it away!"
Sidebar - I live/work in a district where nearly 75% of our kids qualify for free or reduced lunch prices. I know damn good and well that for some of these kids, that school provided breakfast and lunch is the best meal they get all day. Many of them clean their plates and ask wistfully for seconds, knowing I can't actually get them extra helpings. In addition to that, with soaring food prices worldwide there are children starving to death every minute of every day. But Princess is going to have 2 lunches every day, most of which she will throw away? Are you f'ing kidding me? Anyway, back to my conversation with Queen Mother.
Topic #2 - Princess' cell phone. Sadly, I don't mean a toy cell phone, or even a non-working real phone her mother has given her to play with. No, Princess has a real, functional cell phone that will be in her backpack each day "in case of emergencies". I asked Mother exactly what emergencies she thought might come up that would require Princess to have access to her very own phone. She waved her hands around and said "Well, her father is deployed right now and there were all those school shootings a few years ago and, well, um.... she just has it! But she knows not to play with it!" I thought for a moment and then told Mother I supposed it was alright for Princess to have under, under the condition that I never saw or heard it. But if it is out, being played with, shown off, or used in a non-emergency OR if it starts ringing during the school day and interrupts my lessons, I will be confiscating it and taking it to the principal's office where Mother will have to get it back herself.
Sidebar, again - What 5/6 year old needs their own cell phone? REALLY?!? I have a cell phone, which is turned off during the day so it won't ring and interrupt my class. The office has 3 separate phone lines. The bus drivers all carry cell phones AND have radio contact with the school at all times. At what point does Queen Mother think we are so going to fail her child that Princess is going to need to whip out her own cellie and call for help? As for her father being deployed, while you have my utmost sympathy and respect, how exactly does that figure into Princess' need for a phone? Are you going to call her during the day to give her updates?
The silver lining here is that Princess herself seems like a lovely child. Well spoken, well mannered, obeyed instantly when her mother called her over to meet me, made eye contact and smiled broadly. Hopefully she and I will get along splendidly and I will just nod my head as Mother continues to attempt to make me bubble wrap her world.
I met several other interesting characters, big and small, at Open House but will save their stories for future posts.
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