The limitations of an educator

One of my students is heavy on my heart. I have known him for 4 years. I met him when he was in first grade. Now, he is in fifth grade (obviously, for those of you who can add in your add). I remember him as a quiet kid. He had difficulty answering yes/no questions. A different student in his group received a lot of my attention, since he was 30% intelligible. I remember trying to make up for that when the student was in third grade by working with him one-on-one for a while to help him make progress and, well, it would only encourage him to participate.
As a first grade student, this kid would just sit there in class. Some attention deficit disorder but also no motivation. This remains a concern. He doesn't like anything and doesn't care about anything, either. Yes, he likes video games, but if it means he has to do homework, he's fine just sitting in his room and staring at the wall.
He has been participating in his speech group this year. Participation was never a huge issue, but it has definitely improved. I have been surprised by his right answers and proud of him for seeing him make connections with acquired knowledge.
Today, I yelled at him. Well, I spoke louder than usual. I by no means yelled, but I was angry. Angry, because I care so damn much. So angry I didn't even know what to say. My student may not care about his future, but I do, and I will care for him, if I can.
He had told the paraprofessional who leads his resource (specialized academic instruction) group that he didn't want to do his work today; he'd do during recess on Monday. That is not the kid who participates in my speech group. It's not out of his character, but his indifference is rapidly increasing.
So, I (loudly) asked him why he wasn't working. He shrugged his shoulders. I responded, if you don't have a reason, then you're going to do the work. I told him he was smart and how I enjoyed working with him in my group. When I left the room, he was walking over to tell the resource specialist that he was going to complete his work on Monday.
My plan is to observe his group on Monday and to pray to God that during this child's life, he will start to care and want to learn. God may or may not use me, but I trust He has a plan for this child.

Why I bang my head against the table

Already, I have lied to you, dear reader. I do not actually bang my head against a table. Although, I had to tell a student not to bang his head against the table today.

This post is a follow-up from my "Do you have a starfish?" post from yesterday. See, I felt like banging my head against the table, because the interaction seemed ineffective.

Today, I met with the same group of students.

I chose to play Go Fish again, after practicing past tense verbs, because it is a socially appropriate skill to work on.

Halfway through the game, I ask the other student for a card the girl has. She, once again, announces she has that card. I tell her to ask me when it is her turn. As I'm saying this, I pick a card from the pile, and it's a starfish; I love seeing God's hand in this. When it is her turn, she chooses a different card to ask the other student. I prompt her to ask me for the specific card. And she does!!!!! She said, "Do you have this card?"

I was pleasantly surprised. That's when I was reminded why I figuratively bang my head against the table. There, I only lied if you interpreted the title literally.

Do you have a starfish?

There are some moments at work when I realize the limitations of teaching social skills without a colleague. Today, I had such a moment. I heard myself and thought, seriously? Stop talking, Erin. Stop talking.

I had a group of two first grade students (the third student was unavailable). They listened to a story and answered questions plus they practiced describing pictures with past tense verbs. There was 5 minutes left, so I decided to reward them with a game of Go Fish.

One of the students (a girl) meets the educational criteria for Autism. I saw that she had a starfish in her hand. I asked the other student if he had a starfish. I try to teach strategy when I play games with students. He said no. The girl said that she had a starfish. Great. I told her to ask me. She then asks while looking at the other student. I told her it was not her turn and asked her to wait. She asked again but then listened the second time.

When it was her turn, she asked the male student.

Teaching moment! (or so I thought)

me: Who asked for a starfish?

girl: student A.

me: No. Who asked for a starfish?

girl: student A.

me: No. If student A did not ask for the starfish, then who did?

girl: No one.

me: I asked for the starfish. Ask me for the starfish.

girl: I have a starfish.

me: Say "Do you have a starfish?"

girl: yes.

me: No, I want you to say "Do you have a starfish?"

girl: yes.

me: Say "do you have"

girl: I have

me: Do

girl: Do

me: you

girl: you

me: have

girl: have

me: a

girl: a

me: starfish

girl: starfish

me: Miss Desautels?

girl: Yes.

I finally gave her the starfish.

Hidden Gems

Every day is a new adventure. Every day typically has it's ups and downs, highs and lows, smiles and frowns. Today was no exception, but it was certainly a very sweet day.

Before school starts in the morning, I walk/jog with the students on the lower field. One student is absolutely wonderful. She's the kind of student you want to always have around when you're having a bad day or a sad moment. Every time she sees me, I'm greeted with an enthusiastic "Miss. Desautels!" Quickly followed by a hug. "I'm so happy to see you," she adds; some days, she even says, "You're my favorite speech teacher." I consciously overlook the fact that I'm the only speech teacher she has ever had. I feel I can do this, because sometimes she will say how she wants to be a speech teacher just like me. Anyway, this particular student accidentally called me "mommy" this morning. She was embarrassed, and I giggled. I was reminded of the few occasions I have called a teacher "mom," but also of my friend who in, fourth grade, called her male teacher "dad."

My co-worker brought me leftover pancit and adobo chicken from her daughter's birthday party. Delicious!

In the afternoon, one of my other favorite students had something to tell me. He told me all about how he was going to get a new bed after school. His enthusiasm was absolutely darling. I wish I had recorded him. He then leaned in to inform me that he had a secret to tell me. The other student and I leaned in closer. He'd whisper his sentence and add how it's "so cool" and "awesome." I cannot tell you secret as I promised I would not tell anyone. If the other teacher in the room walked by, he'd stop talking about his secret. My heart melted. The entire speech time was spent talking about the new bed he was going to get. Except for the last few minutes. I gave the other student 3 directions to follow. Turns out, he did not know what a sit-up was. Equally interesting, he could barely do one. Neither of them could without someone holding their feet down. It tickled one of the students. It was a highly amusing session and not at all what I planned, yet I heard a fantastic language sample.

There was a low or two during the day, but I'll just sweep them under the rug.

I serve on the youth ministry team at my church. Tonight, all 3 of my small group members were present. It was great to see them all and catch up with what's been going on in their lives. Our discussion was honest and our prayer earnest.

I was asked to give a 2-3 testimony about my time serving the youth ministry at our Easter service. I'm excited to share (or at least try to put into words) my experience serving the teenagers.

To top it all off, I had the opportunity to love my neighbors tonight. One of my neighbors was performing with a friend at a nearby bar. I went to see some of the show. Sometimes being a Christian is tough. :) No, really, sometimes it is, but God's grace is enough, even when it feels like it isn't.

If only the highs of today would motivate me to get out of bed tomorrow morning. What new adventures will there be tomorrow? And will I ever feel motivated to jog after work? I am, after all, running a half marathon April 29. And why is it that I feel awake right now yet I was exhausted after work? America needs to add a siesta to our schedule. Perhaps if we were all rested, we'd be healthier. Perhaps.

From the mouths of babes

I cannot believe I forget this gem of a conversation yesterday.

During group, one of my rambunctious, resilient optimist first grade students sat in my chair. Being as my skills are planning ahead, I had to leave my table to get something. I don't even remember what it was.

Anyway, while I was up, my student sat in my chair. He has a sense of humor, so I told him to move, adding that next time I will sit on him.

His articulation is not the clearest, but he definitely asked if I would fart on him if I sat on him.

I burst out laughing simultaneously assuring him I would not fart on him and that his comment was inappropriate. I'm fairly certain the message was lost in my smile.

Wishing on a shooting star

God certainly does know how to nourish the soul.

After my lunch work meeting, I was not motivated to pull my last group of the day. I decided to get my group anyway; after all, they'd notice if I did not get them for group.

What a blessing the group was.

One of my students was not feeling well. It was very clear from his behavior. He was quiet and calm. This student is typically a ball of energy, usually spinning or bouncing from place to place while talking incessantly. He's one of my favorites. How can you not when three years ago, he said /kr/ instead of /tr/ so the first grade leprechaun traps were called "craps." It's not very often I legitimately get to write the word "crap" in my report.

Anyway, with one student down and my lack of motivation, the two students sat on the couch while I pulled up a chair.

The other student is a very sweet girl that I've known for almost a year. She is kind, friendly, and curious with the right amount of sass. She began asking questions about how rain comes from clouds and stars. She asked about shooting stars and making wishes.

Then she told me, "If I could wish on a shooting star, I'd wish to come with you every day."

Heart melted.

This also positively reinforces me to get my groups of students regardless of motivation level.

A glimpse of divine intervention

Today in my special day class kindergarten class, I was working with one of the students in the teacher's group. This student is one of my favorites. A sweet little guy with big brown eyes. He has a medical diagnosis of being on the Autism Spectrum Disorder. He loves acorns/pinecones and Scrat from the Ice Age. He uses his own name when talking about himself (the nuance of "my name" and "your name" with appropriate references, but I'm merely speculating).

He finished drawing the four pictures for the lesson; I pushed for him to write the words, too. I wrote the words; it was his job to trace them.

I believed he could do it. He was not a fan. It was an unexpected burst of spontaneous language from an otherwise string of lines from movies or quotes from his family (again, speculation). He initially began with a quote from his family, "Be patient." "Just wait." But then, the firework show began.

He told myself and the teacher that he was sad, using the pronoun "he" instead of "I." He then drew a sad face on his paper. He had already finished 2 of the 4 words. The teacher and I both admitted to being about to cry. I mean not only is he communicating spontaneously and actually on topic, but he's then telling us he's sad. My stubborn streak has a cold heart, so I encouraged him to finish the last two and then he could have his toys. I think he actually wanted to draw a spider on the back of his paper. He agreed. After he finished, the teacher asked him if he was happy and asked him to draw a happy face. He did. Then he independently drew a surprised face. The teacher asked him to draw a scared face. They were decent pictures for a 5 year old.

It was just incredible to hear him tell us how he was feeling other than "I'm tired."

The teacher commented, "It was like the heavens opened up." Yes, indeed, God showed His mighty hand. He is truly our student's teacher and will never stop despite passing to the next grade or moving to a different school.

The teacher also wished she had been recording it to show his mom.

If only I could capture the excitement of spontaneous communication between two teachers and a student with words. But why try to capture something that's etched into my heart?

Problems simplified

This story begins on Wednesday. One of my favorite students (by "favorite," I mean one of my students with whom I have established rapport) asked to get something from his backpack. He wanted to show me something. This kid's brain travels 100 mph as well as his body, so I reluctantly agreed to his request. He shows me the letters A through N of the Japanese alphabet. He even wrote his name in Japanese. I was impressed. He found it in a book from the library. He asked if I wanted to copy it. I said yes. He thought I would copy it by hand. Ha. He has no idea the magnitude of my artistic limitations. I went to make a photocopy of the page in his notebook, but the machine was broken. I told him I'd make a photocopy the next day.

Somewhere in the scramble to finish a report and an Individualized Education Program (IEP) and realizing that I left my laptop charger at my other elementary school, I forgot on Thursday.

By chance (or was it, God? Hmm?), I saw him after his reading intervention group in the hallway. I asked him if he had his notebook and told him I forgot the day before. He said jokingly, "What is the matter with you?" I joked back, "Where to begin?" His response was simple, "You forgot." Oh yes, my memory. That's the problem. I joked it's what happens when one gets old.

I don't have to do everything. I can't remember everything, anyway. Another gentle reminder that I am not perfect, nor am I expected to be perfect by anyone except myself.

My job is daily reminder that I need God's help. Does this student have a speech language impairment? How do I connect with this student? How do I teach this student to make the /f/ sound? It's been a year already! While I do help the students, I trust God to ultimately take care of them well into adulthood. After all, they don't stay in elementary school forever. I'm thankful I have been at the same elementary school for the past four years. I have known some students for all four years.

Lately, I've come to the conclusion that my devotion to my students--how else can I describe how much I care about them?--is a tiny reflection of how much God cares for us.

The little moments

Every day in my special day kindergarten class is always an adventure. Fortunately, I enjoy an adventure. Lesson plans are typically thrown out the window, while new ones write themselves.

Today, my favorite student (who has autism) in that class put in his hand on my shoulder while I sat next to him. If I moved to assist another student, he followed me. That is not typical behavior for students with autism. During one of his groups, I told him to complete his work. He put his hand over my mouth and told me to be quiet. I wanted to howl with laughter. How can I punish a student with autism for being interactive and communicating clearly? He eventually did his work; I didn't stay quiet for long, if at all.

Another boy, who also has autism, had some difficult moments today. He screamed and cried for a snack, even though he had already eaten. I sat with him and repeated that he needed to sit first, and then he'd get his juice. Finally, I walked to where he needed to be with the juice box. He followed. He completed his work with the lunchbox in his hand. At least he did his work. I was not going to fight that battle. As the class walked to the bus, he waved good-bye to me as I walked to my classroom. He was the first student to say good-bye. I wanted to kick my feet up and do a jig, because he initiated interaction for something beyond his basic wants or needs.

Despite spending most of my day walking around feeling incompetent, God sees me. He reminds me that He's involved in the lives of my students. I often stop and remind myself that all of the students in that classroom bear God's image. God likes to get crazy, sometimes...

God at work

God rocks. I love it when He shows up while I'm working. He knows my students best; it's such a blessing when he shows up to meet their needs!

One of my students, a 5th grade male who is able to correct my grammar, has characteristics similar to Asperger Syndrome (part of the Autism Spectrum Disorder). Yesterday, we discussed strategies for when he is bullied. I also told him that I'd go on the playground with him and help him talk with some students to find nice peers.

On the playground, he was weary of talking to other students. I felt a bout of introvertedness and suddenly I felt similar feelings as my student. Then God showed up. A student who I met in January or December approached us and says to me, "I played Uno with you." Her grace was beyond her years. She patiently waited for my student to talk to her while I instructed him to make eye contact and told him what to say. They acknowledged how each other had hurt their feelings and apologized to each other. The harmony of the situation was clearly orchestrated by God. Furthermore, she encouraged him to talk to her, "Don't be scared; you can ask me anything." I was also firm with my student as he said, "I can't" or expressed a desire to quit. "You can do this," I insisted. I felt like a coach. Debriefing with him revealed his fragile, scared heart. "What if it's a trick?" he asked me, "I have to test her." I explained that he could trust her.

It was one of my most rewarding moments as a speech language pathologist, and God did all of the work. :)

A student editor

I am blessed to work at an elementary school. I am blessed to work with a student who is capable of proof-reading my grammar.

On Wednesday, I typed notes regarding what he was telling me so I could discuss with his teacher and other colleagues as necessary.

He stood next to me and proofread what I wrote. I conceded the first correction, but after the second, I felt the need to defend myself. These are my notes. My goal is content not grammar.

My inner-geek beamed as I was corrected by one of my students. The art of grammar will not disappear completely.

Spontaneous language

Before vacation in December, I went to a first grade classroom to get two students for group. I greeted him as I greet all of my students, "how are you?" He responded, "I have a wedgie." The second student felt the need to clarify that he did not have a wedgie.

I still laugh thinking about it. This is the goal of my job-spontaneous language. Pragmatics is the second goal...

A day in the life of a Speech Language Pathologist

This picture is from 2 years ago. A student wrote "I love Miss. D." My students steal my heart every day. I am so blessed to see them learn and to see them grow. The classroom teacher sees them every day for a year. I see them 1-2 times a week, but I have been working with some of the same students for 3 years.

Today a student was asking me if I'd rather be in school or have a job. I told him I have the best of both worlds with my job. I get a paycheck but follow a school schedule. But that's not why I love my job.

I have a lot of fun interacting with my students and listening to them. Kids love to talk; I think it's very important that they have an audience, even if it's an audience of one. Being heard is important. I enjoy listening to my students, even if I cannot understand them.

So what do I do all day? I really do play all day in between the paperwork, testing, report writing, and scheduling of meetings (and rescheduling; of 7 scheduled meetings this week, only 4 occurred).

I watched a group of first graders play with toys and describe elaborate scenarios. I listened to them tell me all about transformers and Optimus Prime. I helped a group of second grade students write each step of their soccer trick. I played Uno with a group of third grade boys working on producing their speech sounds spontaneously. I played Guess Who with a 7th grade student. I showed a few yoga poses to a group of 4th and 5th grade boys but found it more effective when one of the students taught the poses.

A student gave me a Tweety silly band.

I worked with a 6th grade student who seemed to be having an off day.

I took orders from a first grade student as he asked me to put the envelope I needed him to give to his mom in his cubby. I laughed as I let him delegate. Perhaps one day he will be a manager or CEO.

I was asked a question to which I didn't know the answer. I wish I could remember the question; this student always has a question.

I watch these students grow, and I pray to God that He uses me to help them.

The perfect example...

So this story is actually about one of my memorable teaching moments.

My trip to Haiti has inspired me to use soccer as an activity to teach language. I'm also selfishly trying to gain some soccer skills before my second trip in December. My motivation is largely selfish, but my students are very excited to play soccer.

The best part is that after they do a trick with the ball, I have them explain what they did. We wrote out the instructions, then I asked them what they did first, second, last, etc. My selfish idea is actually quite brilliant.

Anyway, a group of 3rd grade boys were a bit too rowdy with the soccer ball. The concept of being in a classroom meant nothing to them. In demonstrating that they do not need to kick their leg as high as they can or with all of their might, I kicked up my leg and watched my shoe fly across the room.

I'm pretty sure my point was lost as they howled with laughter.

A glimpse of God's love

I have a unique job. I'm a speech language pathologist at an elementary school. Often, it's easier for me to say I'm a teacher (especially at the Apple store for my discount), but then people ask what grade I teach. I'm blessed to work with students between ages 3 and 13. I get to follow my students from grade to grade. I see longitudinal cross-sections. I do not see them as often their teacher does, but I continue to work with them after they have been assigned a new teacher.

This is the start of my third year at the same school (I praise God, and I'm so thankful!). I do my best not to play favorites, especially when I'm leading a group. But I am human and some students have captured my heart. To be fair, most of my students have my heart; some just have a tighter grip.

A coworker commented how I really do love my students. I care about their future. I know I won't know what happens, which makes me care even more.

Yesterday I was pondering how most of my students will never fully understand how much I care. This fact made me think that this must be how God feels all the time. He loves me so much that I cannot even fathom it. I cannot understand the vastness of His love. Jesus died for my sins, because He loves me. Jesus died knowing that I would not return his love, that I would continually stumble and sin.

God knows what will happen to my students, because they are His children. He will take care of them. I only ask that He uses me to serve their needs; their needs that only God truly knows.

Thunder

On Friday, I asked a student to say a sentence with the word "thunder." The boy, a first grader, asked me, "What's thunder?" I paused. I, apparently, had forgotten I was in San Diego. In the four years I lived here, I've heard thunder less than five times. I provided a brief explanation and then said another word for him to use in a sentence.

Speechless

Today I worked with a student. I started assessing him last school year in May. The end of the year became so busy (at least 16 IEP meetings in the month of June--14 work days) that I decided this evaluation could wait until August.

He is in second grade; he's big for his age. He looks like he will grow up to be a football player, defense. I asked him what he liked to do at home.

He said his family was poor and that he did not have any toys.

That's when my heart broke. I didn't know what to say, so I asked him what he liked to do during recess. He likes to play wall ball.

When this student describes a picture, he tells a story. His stories are dialogue driven. It is my goal to help him harvest his talent, so he can become a story-teller. So while he is sitting in his house, his imagination can bring him anywhere he wants to go.

Who's on First?

This is my best story from working with students from the 2008-2009 school year.

Three 5th graders were playing a trivia game. A male student was asked the following: In baseball, what does the shortstop do after catching a ball. I do not remember the specific question, but the answer I was looking for was throw it to first base.

This student was not familiar with baseball. I mimed throwing the ball. In order to help him figure out where to throw the ball to, I started spelling the word. "It starts with the letter 'b'," I say. He suddenly blurts out "Bitch!"

The other two students were slow to catch on to what he said. The resource specialist walks over to inquire what exactly I'm teaching my students. We were laughing. I informed the student the shortstop throws the ball to first base.

Later that year the same student blurted out "dick," but I can no longer remember the context. It was apparent he was learning new vocabulary words outside of school.