Some weeks are more DESPERATE than others....

So I'm hoping and praying and planning for a calmer week. After getting 2 new kids in 2 weeks time, we are trying hard to settle in, but the challenges are formidable. Not to mention that the February Slump is soon upon us.

What's the February Slump, you ask? You know, that period of time between winter break and spring break, when the weather isn't yet inspiring, and it seems everyone gets alittle grumpy.

Check out www.Teachers.Net/Gazette ---go to Current Issue, then scroll down and find the snowman---to read more on my take...... I have a plan, now I just have to DO IT!!

Time enough for the mud to settle......

Do you have the patience to wait
till your mud settles and the water is clear?
Can you remain unmoving
till the right action arieses by itself?
LAO-TZO



Sometimes you hear that teaching requires the "patience of Job". Most people who say this seem to be referring to our ability to tolerate the particular problems of handling young people OR the institutionalized problems of education itself.But when I think of being patient, I have something else in mind.

It can take some children a very, very long time for some skills or concepts to develop.

I have to ask myself, am I less than a good teacher if my students'learning takes awhile?

It's certainly true that learning is unpredictable. It often doesn't make itself known in the specific time frame alotted in our concise teacher's editions. Moreover, I wonder if there mitigating circumstances to which we can point in order to excuse the length of time between confusion and mastery? Or am I just trying to rationalize away my incompetence? What's the point of hurrying through a list of specific lessons if I don't take the time my students' really need? But what of the consequences for moving too slowly?

As we settle into February and look ahead to high stakes testing, I am giving myself permission to slow down just a bit to make sure I am working in tandem with my students' needs, rather than against them. I vow to sit a bit and think hard about my techniques and supports, so that the time I do have is well spent. Mostly, I promise to honor the role of time in this complicated game called teaching. If it is necessary, I will wait until the "water is clear".

My Rose Colored Glasses.....

Well, THAT dark mood is gone (see previous post)....thank goodness.

Today I enjoyed a much more constructive mood, the kind of positivity that makes some folks wretch. I mean, I sometimes get flack for being TOO optimistic. Once, years ago, a woman I worked with actually glared at me one afternoon, then cursed at me for greeting her warmly as she returned from her lunch break. "I should only have to say hello nicely to you once a day! No need for all this smiling. What are you so happy about anyway??!!"

An IA I worked with a few years ago, an avowed morning hater, often snarled at me as I prepared for the day WITH A SMILE ON MY FACE!!

I can't help it. The prospect of meeting each of my kiddies every morning makes me happy. I have the gift of a "short memory", so I never really hold a grudge or swim around in my worry. Every day is another opportunity for a miracle.

Sometimes, that miracle is just making it through the day. And I'm okay with that.

But today, as four of us were leaving the building at day's end, we nearly growled our goodbyes at each other. That's what being emotionally depleted and physically exhausted will do to you.

Thank goodness we had 15 hours to get refreshed and ready for our next happy day together.

If only I could say.....

It's true: being the teacher of emotionally disabled children isn't all fun and games. Crises and chaos are always on the horizon. The high intensity work environment weighs hard on one's heart.Consequently, it takes special effort to keep from getting depressed or burnt out. As I've mentioned previously, I meditate some, pray alot, laugh about as much as possible with my commrades-in arm, and do things like write this blog. But sometimes, the dark clouds descend.

When I feel blue, I like to imagine what I'd say or do... if I weren't so professional, loving, and ultimately optimistic!! In fact, it would feel pretty darn good to say this stuff out loud:

"I wish someone would give you a good bubble bath, and get behind your ears and under your nails."


"I sometimes worry you'll grow up and come back to this school and slash my tires.... or worse."

"I worry your parents might do the same."

"At some point in your future, you'll pull up a memory of me, your first "big school" teacher; I only hope it's not while you are languishing in a jail cell. "

"I wish I could tell your abusive parents what I really think of them."

"I am saddened and appalled at how little my guidance and love has had on changing your day to day life."

Luckily the dark clouds are temporary, washed away most often by a child's hug or smile. There is no need to dwell on my worries. But it sure feels good to put them out there, to make real the honest emotions created when my day to day life is so doggedly rough and tumble.

Let's figure it out..... AND Thank you!!

Our challenge is to meet every kid's needs. It's a puzzle, of course, an often overwhelming task that has serious and long term consequences.

Today, our staff will be meeting in grade level teams to figure out one key to one part of the puzzle..... how are we going to support those kids who are not reading on grade level? How will we get them where they need to be?

We'll be analyzing some data about DRA testing done at the end of last year. We'll be sorting out those kids who are in need of remediation. We'll be ascertaining where our instruction has been weak and needs tweaking. We'll be concentrating on making changes that impact kids' learning tomorrow, and the rest of this year.

I hate a useless meeting, but I'm thinking that this one will provide me with information and guidance that will improve my instruction. I hope so, at least.

I'll keep you posted.

Until then, enjoy this photo from Virginia Tech's ThanK the World event held this weekend on the drillfield in Blacksburg. My family and I participated, and it was a heartfelt expression of our gratitude to all who prayed for and supported us during the April shootings and beyond.

A note of appreciation!

Tomorrow we lead teachers are throwing a little breakfast for our fabulous instructional assistants. Bagels, donuts, juice, etc..... not elegant, but we hope it says what we mean: we are so lucky to have you as our teaching partners.

Instructional assistants work really, really hard in our special program. They teach groups of children, implement (and help create) complicated behavior management systems, provide therapeutic support to kids in crisis.... It's a lot more than running copies and cutting out art project templates.

So here's to our IAs. Thank you for giving so much of yourself to our kids! Thank you for being so dedicated and hard working!!!

Thank you for being you!!

Okay, so I've been remiss..... again

I guess it's normal to go through periods of neglecting one's bloglife. Still, I hate seeing that September was the last time I gave this my attention. So let me refocus my goals and set to work on this, my next new beginning...

I continue to struggle with creating a behavior plan to support one of my favorite darlings. As a team, we decided some visual cueing was in order, so I did that. We're concentrating even more on preventative strategies, and consistent consequences, etc. I'm working hard to keep our relationship "trustworthy", that is, a relationship where he really comes to believe that I mean what I say and say what I mean.

The daily tumult continues. Sometimes this is a very tiring job.

Thank goodness I really really like this child!! It does help that I care for him and his family, and I believe they are trying too. Their effort counts for alot when I have to get up everyday and try to sort out the best way(s) to support a child in so much turmoil.

This week we will continue to tweak and revamp in hopes that we find just the right equation. No time for complaining or backpeddling or throwing up our arms in frustration. We will get this right.... if not this week, then eventually. And if not eventually, we'll find a setting more suitable, more effective for this child.

Cruising through the last two weeks.....

As I strongly suspected, I finally got myself and my classroom together. The kids are settling in, and the new IA is a lovely young woman with good instincts and a kind heart. My to-do list is usually not too long, and I am finding the time I need to do what needs to be done.

With only 4 kids so far (the fifth one never showed), we are teaching up a storm and the kids are eating it up. What a joy to plan for and teach kids who enjoy books and math and games and singing....

It's the sharing and the writing and the taking turns that freaks them out. It's keeping an even keel when every fiber of their being wants to scream and stomp and curse and lash out.

That's happening too, the lashing out, but we are managing with some grace and dignity.

So far, so good.

How will I ever catch up?

Boxes yet to unpack... files to refresh..... supplies to label and store....

Oh, and make sure each day is tantalizingly planned for....

This is my challenge. At 3:20 when the busses pull away, I am happily exhausted, and intend, with every last bit of energy, to catch-up.

I start with my lessons, because they deserve my best attention. By 4:45, I can't muster the wherewithall to do anything more, so things go undone. Until I get back here tomorrow morning at 7am and start all over.

Experience tells me it all will eventually get done. The little naggy voice inside of me complains about laziness and disorganization. I shrug, and choose to head home for my pre-dinner nap.

Sweet dreams.

Happy New Year!!

Happy New Year....

I love this feeling. It's a mix of joyful anticipation and thoughtful resolve that I will do all I can to make this the best year ever. Unlike the silly feeling in my stomach that comes the night before Christmas, this excitement is both tempered and enhanced by the idea that I am in control of much of what will come my way.

I get to choose my reaction to every little bump in the road.

I get to ask for help when I need it, and help others when they need it.

I get to play with new ideas, continue what I know works, and keep on trying to learn more about being the most effective teacher I can be.

I am blessed to have such a wonderful job with wonderful people.

I'm a teacher, and I love it.

Too much....

We attended the Memorial Dedication Service at VaTech this afternoon. The weekend had been wonderful to that point, what with moving our Hokie Girl into her new apartment and helping her get settled for a new year. Thoughts of Reema and Erin were strong, and I asked to go by their old rooms in the dorm to pay my silent respects. Luckily, no current dorm residents were around, so we could pray a moment at each door, both grateful for their love and hopeful for the healing their families' still need to find.

The ceremony itself was just fine. The weight of sadness felt familiar, as did communal experience, the understanding that we were in this together.

Again, we were reminded that those lost left much undone, but had lived extraordinary lives nonetheless. We were called to continued service in their names.

And now comes word that another of my daughter's school friends is one of Tech kids' sickened by carbon monoxide in their apartment. She is on a respirator, we hear, receiving the best care available. We are praying for her and her family and all those affected by this useless tragedy.

This feels like too much.

It's starting... and it feels so good....

I've been into school twice over the last week to participate in staff interviews. When I walked in the door I was bowled over by the smells and sights of being back, and it was a very good feeling. This bodes well for the new year. At some point, some year, I guess I'll approach September with less enthusiasm and more dread. Then I'll know it's time to stop.


For now, I look forward to the kids' arrival and the close work ahead with my friends and colleagues.

For now.

On being a worthy model.....

It's a staple of good parenting, and of good teaching.... Be sure and model the behavior you want your kids to demonstrate.

So when teachers use sarcasm and bullying tactics to get their message across, how can we be surprised when these same kids are disrespectful and detached?

When we teachers seem bored with our lessons, when we lack passion and deep understanding of our discipline, how can we be surprised when our students' approach to learning is joyless?

It's a fundamental truth in my classroom: as I implore my students to work hard to stay in control - to choose more appropriate ways to handle their anger - I have to be vigilant as I deal with my own frustrations in the classroom. No yelling. No physical outbursts, no banging on a desk or slamming a door. No threatening. No blaming others.

It's no wonder I go home somedays and feel completely exhausted. Keeping my emotions in check when so much around me is chaotic is draining. Sometimes, at the end of the day, my voice is raspy and strained; not from raising my voice, but from working so hard to control it.

But it's much easier to sleep at night when I've been true to my goals. When I slip and get testy, I can forgive myself, but only if I promise to try harder. The kids deserve it, of course. And no matter how righteous it sounds, it is satifying to do what is good for kids.

We are Hokies....

Grief and worry has kept me away from this blog.

As the desperate nature of the shock has transformed into a dull ache, I have had no time or patience for doing anything more than what's necessary to get me and my daughter and family through.

We can pretend for parts of each day that everything is back to normal. I am blessed with the kind of job that keeps my mind busy, too busy to light on the thought of beautiful Reema. The pain in her mother's eyes. The pitiful sound my daughter makes as she calls out from her restless sleep. The picture of Erin on the cover of her funeral bulletin. The senseless loss of each of the 33.

If left unchecked, my mind drifts to memories of Reema and my girl flitting across the soccer fields and the dance floor, two scrawny little girls, waif like, but powerful in the way well-loved kids can be.

So I am checking out for awhile longer. Thanks for your thoughts and prayers.

Even in our grief, we have to find some laughter....

A true story told to me by my dear friend, a WVU mom, about her grandson, also a rabid Mountaineer supporter:

A 13 year old middle schooler had been closely watching the news about Virginia Tech. The first time he met up with his grandmother after the shootings, he was noticeably concerned and thoughtful. After they agreed it was a terrible tragedy, the boy looked squarely in his grandma's eyes and made a solemn promise:

"I tell you what, Grandma, I'll never flick off a Hokie again!"

Prayers to our university community...

Some of you might remember my daughter is a Hokie. She is safe, thank God, but the pain and terror remains. One friend is dead and another struggles for life.

The Hokie Nation is gasping in horror and clinging tightly to each other. This poem was posted on a VaTech sports website by a UVA grad. We stand together in the wake of senseless violence.

Wind sweeps through the mountains,
Wiping away the innocence,
Tears stream like rivers,
Oh what senseless violence!

A nations heart is broken,
Youthful lifes hardly begun,
So many yet to have spread their wings,
So early to have stopped their run.

An act of utter cowardice,
A sensless attempt to hurt,
So many lives this has affected,
Optimism and hope left inert.

Today we are all Hokies,
No matter where we are from,
Though on the field we may be enemies,
Today we hold Virginia as our Home.

God Bless.

Thanks for the "birthday" wishes...

At EBDBLOG, one of the sites I check daily, they have noted my second year anniversary as a blogger.

Feels like it was just yesterday when I impulsively pushed the Blogger button and began to figure out how the blog thingee worked. I always knew I had something to say, it was just a matter of deciding that THIS was the right forum. Even as I get distracted and blog a bit inconsistently, I always come back.

As ever,thanks for reading my blog.

And now, for your protection.....

Our school is scheduled for a LOCK DOWN drill this week, an activity whereby we two teachers lock our classroom door, turn off the lights, whisk our class of highly reactive, emotionally impaired six year olds to a corner of our room where we are meant to sit in absolute silence for 10 to 15 minutes... and if we don't, a team of security specialists acting as school intruders will detect our whereabouts....

It's a nightmare.

Our administrators have worked hard to get the security folks to understand the sensitive nature of our ED kids and the many other special needs kids in our building.

I'm told they agree not to bang loudly on our doors to provoke the kids into breaking the rules and screaming.

I can't wait til this is over....

Begging for attention and anything else that's needed..

This lazy Saturday morning, my sweet dog, Cayenne, is repeatedly bumping her nose into my hand, asking for.. no demanding.. what it is she needs. She won't give up until I pet her head and rub her belly.

You have to respect this kind of unabashed neediness. If we all were as honest about what would make us happy, the world would be a less complicated place, that's for sure.

I'm thinking about my students' behaviors over the years, and how tough it's been to wade through all the distractors to get to the real issue: "How will you meet my needs, Mrs. Ris?"

For many of my kids, it's a matter of providing immediate basic needs. Here's a juice box and breakfast bar to get you through the morning. You were up late because of your family's partying and fighting? Take a little nap in the bean bag and I'll catch you up on your lessons later. Need a clean t-shirt? Let's check the extra clothes bag.

Sometimes we can't even begin to give kids what they crave. In a six hour day I can't hug a kid enough to make a difference... although we all try. We can't makeup for a home life of humiliation and threats. And when a child's brain chemistry is off, all we can do is be as structured and consistent as possible, and pray the meds will work.

We plan our lessons with attention and detail; we overplan and, as necessary, change up our plans on the fly to meet new roadblocks. It's complicated and draining to be so focused on doing what is right.

So this morning, when Cayenne looks so lovingly my way and keeps nuzzling my hand, I'll thank goodness for her uncomplicated, honest "begging". It feels good to satisfy her needs so easily.

Hard work...

His is learned helplessness of the most debilitating kind...

He hims and haws, shakes his head, throws over his chair, and pleads loudly.

"I can't do it! I don't know it. I can't!"

If you just came upon us as I worked with him on his phonics lesson, you'd think I was a real witch of a teacher. I ignore his tears, demand more of him, make him start over when he balks.

I question myself as I push, push, push. I feel so evil. I want to hold him in my lap and assure him that everything is okay. Gently wipe away his tears. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.

Somehow, I keep pushing. I can feel it deep down that this is the right thing to do after all these months of carefully moving him down the path to learning.

Do it again, Mike.
Try it again.
No, start over.
Look again.

He takes a bathroom break, and so do I. As I walk out into the hall, another teacher and her student are reading together. The teacher, new to our school, looks at me differently. I feel judged.

Mike takes his seat again. I put the word and sound cards out again. He starts, fumbles just a bit, then starts again. He does it.

I am too exhausted to rejoice. For now, we smile at each other, and breathe.

Update

Tuesday morning, I put Mike's phonics cards out for him to do. He said something alittle whiney, then sighed and instantly put them in order. Task done. Lesson learned. For both of us.