A Teachable Moment

 Hey hey hey! It’s another subject on a different day! Welcome to another entry here on the blog. Been out of commission due to illness (woke up with a massive headache and fever yesterday) and got the text I didn’t want to get: my nephew, his partner, my niece, her fiancé, my cousin, her husband…and well you know. Keep me in your prayers, because I can’t afford to more time off work. 

Last week during a meeting with my boss, she noticed a situation that was stressing me out and gave me time to refresh. Caring for young children is not easy, and with not one, but two special needs children in my class, I find myself stretched thin doing everything without an assistant teacher. I can’t be in two places at once, and the challenge for me is being able to work with my special needs children along with my other students at the same time. 

During our meeting, I broke down in tears. Tears because I cannot handle working alone and the fact that I have a lot on my plate (I don’t know anyone who can handle my workload without an assistant). Tears because one of my special needs students bites, and he bit me repeatedly within the last month. Tears because I am embarrassed as to how I’m handling my classroom. 

“ ‘I know it’s stressing you out, and I understand. I want you to take some time and think about some ways we can help you become a better teacher’ “, she said respectfully. 

At first I was offended, then I got to thinking about a previous job with a challenging behavior child and the support I was seeking that I was denied, despite the fact that administration said they were there for support. 

Then  I realized she really cares, and wants to help. And I realized I needed help, but I also realized where I needed to be. 

It was the summer between my freshman and sophomore year in college, circa 2010. K, then seven, now eighteen, was a sweet child with behavior issues. There were days he would scream, throw fits and have meltdowns. Other teachers would send him to the office; I took the time to get to know him, learned what triggered him, and was able to step in before he went from zero to sixty. We had a great relationship, and I was sad to see him leave that following school year, as his mother made different arrangements for after school care. 

Two years later, while working as a nanny for a family from the same center, A, then eight, now seventeen, was diagnosed with ADHD. Dad was the prime custodial parent and having a hard time with said diagnosis. I walked Dad through everything, from what to expect to triggers/emotional outbursts, and resources. An IEP was in place for A, along with the daily schedule (both are essential for special needs). School year went to summer and back to school year again-A had noticeable trouble with transitions, and the fall of 2014 was no different. He had two other teachers in our center’s after school program before being placed with me after school (I taught 4K wraparound care in the morning and had kindergarten, first grade and A, in fourth grade). We worked well together. So well that when the unthinkable happened, I was the first person called. 

Dad was out of town on business and A was not having a good day. ADHD children can be moody (I was one of them) and whatever happened at school that day carried over to after school. Immediately he was in a mood when he got on the center’s van, which carried over to walking through the front door. This mood led to him verbally attacking both my director and administrator. I was called into the office, where I gently but firmly addressed A, explaining that it is ok to be upset but not ok to speak to adults like that. I texted Dad and asked if it was ok that A lost privileges when we got home. Dad was ok with that. 

Times have changed and I’ve gotten older. I’m also not perfect and never have been. I have flaws. I’ve always done well with older kids and special needs, and do not recollect and prior classes with children under four where I’ve had special needs. 

Or have I forgotten and thus forgotten how to work with special needs? 

Following that meeting, I found a book on my desk by Anne Ortlund titled “Children Are Wet Cement”. I also ordered workbooks on challenging behaviors and responding to positive behavior. In teaching, there’s something called “ ‘a teachable moment’ “. Think of a rollercoaster. The child does xyz (the bottom of the coaster) which leads to the unwanted and/or undesired behavior (top of the coaster). Teaching the child at the bottom doesn’t work, nor does teaching while the behavior is happening. Teaching after said incident happens is most effective, hence the rollercoaster. 

This is where I was last week. At the bottom of the rollercoaster, needing that “teachable moment”. When I looked into my hallway today, my workbooks were at my door. Excited to learn and refreshed, I’m eager to get back to work. In all honesty, I felt like I let my boss down with her high expectations of me, considering my background. 

It does take a village to raise a child, and it takes a special kind of leader to help the person who is part of that village. I’ve been blessed to be working with her a second time. 

With ice cream and love, 

Dani