Unlocked

It has been such a busy fall at my school, but I am thankful that I moved up a grade level with my EC students from last year, so that I already knew most of them.  However,  a few new students have tied me up in knots of paperwork, not to mention providing accommodations we are not really set up to provide.  We get through with a little humor and a lot of goodwill.

The nicest thing about this fall has been seeing some of my students from last year grow so much. Learning disabled children who started last year glazed over, kids who wouldn't even pick up a pencil because they were so overwhelmed by the transition to sixth grade, are now keeping up with their work and volunteering answers in class.

Not that they don't still need support.  I pull them out of their larger classes and work with them...it's just that seeing them try, even just seeing them keep their work in order, is so amazing after knowing the way we started last year.

I think of one boy in particular who has changed so much.   At the start of last year he had two modes: Staring into space, or insulting people.  I was at my wits' end, and I had to stop pulling him out with his group.  Of course, that wasn't optimal, because then I had to divide my time between him and the others.  Anyway, I recall one day in particular that epitomized how bad things were:  He had a nasty exchange with a student who uses a wheelchair.  "Why don't you get up out of that chair and do some exercise?" he asked-- this was either a brilliant put-down or a complete lack of awareness on his part (I think it was the latter).

The other student retaliated verbally; the whole situation was terrible.  I had to take disciplinary action against the first boy for behavior that verged on bullying (not just for this incident, but for all the name-calling he had done).  That was when I decided this boy couldn't come with the group for a while, until his social skills improved.

There were many obstacles to face at once, but my thought was that if I could get this boy to feel better about himself by improving academically, his tolerance and compassion for others might improve.  I worked with him one-on-one and lavished praise on him every time he did the smallest thing right.  We also worked on role plays, practicing more positive ways to interact.

At first it was horrendously slow, even getting him to keep holding the pencil was a huge struggle. His attention drifted constantly and he wanted to go to the restroom, the locker, another class--in short, he wanted to be anywhere but where he was, confronting the work he could not do.  He had little number sense and would give me random guesses on simple problems.  Ten times ten was fifty. There are seventy-five cents in a dollar.  To add and subtract he counted on his fingers.

We persisted.  I did flash cards sometimes, and when he did grade level problems I hung at his elbow.  When he tired of that I put him on computer math games and interactive tutorials. Gradually, he began to have some success.  A completed homework here, a correct answer in class there.   I encouraged and bribed him by turn.  After two months his attitude had improved and I was able to include him in the group again.

It just so happened that my principal came to observe me last spring after he had rejoined this group. This boy, who had been so nasty, now jumped to get a cup of water for my student who uses a wheelchair.  In turn I saw that child push a pencil across the table for him.  I was stunned. Even
in the middle of the session, being observed by the principal, I stopped and tears came to my eyes.
It was a moment of grace I will never forget. The path this boy took to begin to unlock his academic potential had started him on another, even more important journey.