One of my doctorate classes this winter was Atypical Development 0-8, which basically translated to, "Everything that can go wrong to cause a child to have special needs from conception to early elementary school." We ended up spending 3/4 of the class on prenatal, preterm babies, and newborns. All while I was pregnant, yet before I'd told anyone I was pregnant. I sat through class after class biting my nails, listening to everything that might be going wrong in my uterus at that VERY MOMENT to be causing my child to have special need.
I was doing alright with it all until the guest speaker on Autism noted that her current research was showing that there most likely are environmental factors that cause Autism while the child is in the womb. I'd been able to sit through the class sessions on every other topic, but perhaps because this was news to me I about passed out at the table. One more thing to worry about? I immediately decided that the woman was wrong and blocked out the rest of her discussion.
One thing we focused on quite a lot was the new research on late-term preemies, or those born at 37 weeks. Until recently, 37 weeks wasn't considered premature, and doctors were even scheduling deliveries around 37 weeks if they were going out of town so they could deliver babies before they headed out on vacation. The research was fascinating, and much we heard was from researchers still writing up their results, or in the process of publishing, so their work hasn't been published yet. Some of what we read was published, and if I wasn't feeling lazy (I am 33 weeks pregnant after all) I would get off my couch and look up the articles so that I could cite them for you).
This afternoon I read this article today from NPR on how Drs are encouraging women to not induce labor before the baby is ready. The article fits in with all of the research we heard about and read this past semester. What it does not mention however, that some of the studies we heard about did, was that babies born at 37 weeks all seem to show cognitive delays in the same visual/motor integration areas as they grow older. The similarity in delays in children born at 37 weeks seemed to suggest to researchers that those specific regions of the brain are developing while the child is in the womb at 37 weeks.
This was new research not yet written up, and it may be proven false after the data is looked at again. But at the time the guest speakers met with us this was the pattern they had found in their data. They are continuing to follow these children to see how they fare in elementary school.
I found the implications fascinating, particularly for what it tells us about brain development and how early brain development can impact performance in the early years of development and into elementary school.
I found the NPR article interesting- worth the read- and thought it was nice to know that doctors are beginning to switch their practices.
Showing posts with label grad school. Show all posts
Showing posts with label grad school. Show all posts
Monday, July 18, 2011
Friday, June 10, 2011
Is a masters worth it?
I've read a lot in the education policy blogs out there about how teachers shouldn't be given pay raises just because they have a masters because data shows that teachers with masters degrees aren't any more effective than teachers without masters degrees. I suppose I understand the beginning of that argument- why should ineffective teachers with masters degrees get paid more than effective teachers without the degree? What we're being paid for is what happens in the classroom with the kids.
The thing is, every time I hear that argument I cringe. My masters degree made me a much more effective teacher. I learned important background on child development, how children learn, and how to intervene when some children do not learn. I gained a new perspective, learned strategies I could immediately apply in the classroom, and understood the difference between a teaching strategy that looks like it should work and one that is actually research based and does work. My masters degree turned me into the data-obsessed freak I am today. (I try to hide this most of the time, but I have to admit, I love my data).
Maybe it's where I got my masters, or that I happened to have excellent professors who had both their phd and for the most part continued to teach in the school system, but I have a hard time understanding how people end up walking away from their masters without being more effective teachers. I believe it can happen, but does it really happen as often some education policy people argue?
I worry that the "masters degree isn't worth it" argument encourages teachers to not get their masters degree, assuming there is nothing more for them to learn. And no one in life should assume they have already learned all there is to know.
It also sends a message to everyone that education degrees are simply a waste of time and that you don't need quality training to be a good teacher. This terrifies me the most. I thought I knew a lot about education and how teaching should work before I took any education classes, but both my undergrad classes and my masters classes (and now my doctorate classes) continue to show me better, more effective ways to teach. What I thought I knew before is so far off from the reality of what is good teaching.
The thing is, every time I hear that argument I cringe. My masters degree made me a much more effective teacher. I learned important background on child development, how children learn, and how to intervene when some children do not learn. I gained a new perspective, learned strategies I could immediately apply in the classroom, and understood the difference between a teaching strategy that looks like it should work and one that is actually research based and does work. My masters degree turned me into the data-obsessed freak I am today. (I try to hide this most of the time, but I have to admit, I love my data).
Maybe it's where I got my masters, or that I happened to have excellent professors who had both their phd and for the most part continued to teach in the school system, but I have a hard time understanding how people end up walking away from their masters without being more effective teachers. I believe it can happen, but does it really happen as often some education policy people argue?
I worry that the "masters degree isn't worth it" argument encourages teachers to not get their masters degree, assuming there is nothing more for them to learn. And no one in life should assume they have already learned all there is to know.
It also sends a message to everyone that education degrees are simply a waste of time and that you don't need quality training to be a good teacher. This terrifies me the most. I thought I knew a lot about education and how teaching should work before I took any education classes, but both my undergrad classes and my masters classes (and now my doctorate classes) continue to show me better, more effective ways to teach. What I thought I knew before is so far off from the reality of what is good teaching.
Sunday, April 3, 2011
now that we're collaborating together as teachers, how can we collaborate with drs?
Research has shown that children who receive early special education services are more likely to exit out of the special education program during their school career and are less likely to repeat a grade. For every dollar we spend on early intervention we will see a $5-7 savings over the child's life. Yet most children with disabilities and delays are under identified and not found eligible for special education until they are school age, when they are already significantly behind their peers. Children who qualify for special education can begin receiving services at age two, giving them three years of intervention before they reach kindergarten. Children with disabilities or delays who are not identified lose out on three years of intervention that could literally change their lives, giving them an opportunity to catch up to their peers, increase their language development, monitor their progress, and provide a strong foundation they will build on throughout their school career.
Every year we run into kindergarteners who were not identified, but should have been. Many of their parents come to us and openly state that they have concerns. Some are worried that their five year old never began to talk, some are worried about how their five year old handles new situations, or how their five year old has developed self-help skills. These parents questioned their doctors about their child's development only to be told that everything was fine. Their five year old without language was "developing normally". In fact, the doctor even signed the school physical form saying that the child without language was developing as expected.
As far as I know, doctors do not have to do anything extra if they are concerned about a child's development other than referring them to Child Find, a service that screens young children for disabilities. What is suppose to happen is that doctors refer children to Child Find, who then runs a series of evaluations on a child to determine whether or not that child is eligible for services. If the child is eligible they can receive instruction in their home, or in one of the preschool programs, all for free through IDEA. The doctors here are the first line of defense and most of the identification falls into their hands since many of our students cannot afford daycare or preschool.
I've written about this before because nothing makes me more upset than knowing a child could have been receiving services for three years and yet did not because a doctor never took the time to truly examine the child, listen to the parents' concerns, or just recommend that the parent contact Child Find if they are truly concerned. I do not understand what is so hard about referring children to Child Find. And why we end up with so many children who go unidentified for so long simply because the pediatrician just signed off on the "well-child" visits without actually examining the child's development.
Our families are limited in the doctors they can see because they must find someone who takes Medicaid. A good friend who works in a doctors practice told me what little reimbursement doctors get for taking Medicaid. Any procedure, she said, is really only reimbursed about $25. Medicaid patients are being served, but in an already strapped practice doctors are most likely busy and not likely to spend extra time with patients whose treatments will never fully be paid for. Let alone, for many of our families, there is a language barrier. What could be a 15 minute doctors appointment could turn into a 30 or 40 minute appointment with a parent who is trying to communicate through limited English. I imagine this situation is frustrating for doctors and patients and ends with parents leaving with their forms filled out but without the answers they need.
Last Wednesday night in one of my grad classes the director from DCPS' Early Stages program came to speak to us on the work Early Stages does in the District to increase early identification and early intervention. I was floored with how much the organization does and does successfully within the limitations of DCPS. For the first time I found myself very jealous of something within DCPS and wish we could recreate that program in my nearby county.
The executive director of Early Stages happens to be a pediatrician himself. This has allowed him to make connections with the primary Medicaid caregivers in DC to help inform them on important indicators to look for when identifying a child for Child Find, helping to train them in the most beneficial diagnostic tools, making sure they know the procedure for how to recommend a child to Child Find, and even helping them with the Medicaid billing codes so that they can be reimbursed for diagnostic screenings.
This is exactly what needs to happen in my community. At some point we need to connect with these doctors and make sure they know the procedures for recommending children to Child Find, help them to understand why it is important, and what indicators Child Find is looking for. Increasing early intervention could lead to giving so many more children language development and intervention, allowing them to catch up with their peers.
I wish I had the time to investigate the doctors in my community to gain a better understanding of the problem so we can begin to identify a solution. Early Stages seems to be on to something, which is going to make huge strides for the development of the children of DC. Now, if we can just copy it...
*I hope to write more about Early Stages later, when I'm not suppose to be working on a paper. I was amazed and in awe of the program and how much they do "right".
Every year we run into kindergarteners who were not identified, but should have been. Many of their parents come to us and openly state that they have concerns. Some are worried that their five year old never began to talk, some are worried about how their five year old handles new situations, or how their five year old has developed self-help skills. These parents questioned their doctors about their child's development only to be told that everything was fine. Their five year old without language was "developing normally". In fact, the doctor even signed the school physical form saying that the child without language was developing as expected.
As far as I know, doctors do not have to do anything extra if they are concerned about a child's development other than referring them to Child Find, a service that screens young children for disabilities. What is suppose to happen is that doctors refer children to Child Find, who then runs a series of evaluations on a child to determine whether or not that child is eligible for services. If the child is eligible they can receive instruction in their home, or in one of the preschool programs, all for free through IDEA. The doctors here are the first line of defense and most of the identification falls into their hands since many of our students cannot afford daycare or preschool.
I've written about this before because nothing makes me more upset than knowing a child could have been receiving services for three years and yet did not because a doctor never took the time to truly examine the child, listen to the parents' concerns, or just recommend that the parent contact Child Find if they are truly concerned. I do not understand what is so hard about referring children to Child Find. And why we end up with so many children who go unidentified for so long simply because the pediatrician just signed off on the "well-child" visits without actually examining the child's development.
Our families are limited in the doctors they can see because they must find someone who takes Medicaid. A good friend who works in a doctors practice told me what little reimbursement doctors get for taking Medicaid. Any procedure, she said, is really only reimbursed about $25. Medicaid patients are being served, but in an already strapped practice doctors are most likely busy and not likely to spend extra time with patients whose treatments will never fully be paid for. Let alone, for many of our families, there is a language barrier. What could be a 15 minute doctors appointment could turn into a 30 or 40 minute appointment with a parent who is trying to communicate through limited English. I imagine this situation is frustrating for doctors and patients and ends with parents leaving with their forms filled out but without the answers they need.
Last Wednesday night in one of my grad classes the director from DCPS' Early Stages program came to speak to us on the work Early Stages does in the District to increase early identification and early intervention. I was floored with how much the organization does and does successfully within the limitations of DCPS. For the first time I found myself very jealous of something within DCPS and wish we could recreate that program in my nearby county.
The executive director of Early Stages happens to be a pediatrician himself. This has allowed him to make connections with the primary Medicaid caregivers in DC to help inform them on important indicators to look for when identifying a child for Child Find, helping to train them in the most beneficial diagnostic tools, making sure they know the procedure for how to recommend a child to Child Find, and even helping them with the Medicaid billing codes so that they can be reimbursed for diagnostic screenings.
This is exactly what needs to happen in my community. At some point we need to connect with these doctors and make sure they know the procedures for recommending children to Child Find, help them to understand why it is important, and what indicators Child Find is looking for. Increasing early intervention could lead to giving so many more children language development and intervention, allowing them to catch up with their peers.
I wish I had the time to investigate the doctors in my community to gain a better understanding of the problem so we can begin to identify a solution. Early Stages seems to be on to something, which is going to make huge strides for the development of the children of DC. Now, if we can just copy it...
*I hope to write more about Early Stages later, when I'm not suppose to be working on a paper. I was amazed and in awe of the program and how much they do "right".
Friday, January 14, 2011
Ear infections
I was excited to hear this story on NPR yesterday about a recommendation from two different studies that doctors treat ear infections in young children rather than use the wait-and-see method which has been pushed the last few years.
From a learning disabilities perspective, children who develop chronic ear infections are more likely to develop an auditory processing disorder or language delays. Children begin attending to language in their environment around the same time chronic ear infections occur, resulting in an inconsistent sound-mapping if chronic ear infections go untreated. (Koksal, 2002). Multiple studies have found that children with chronic ear infections are more likely to develop delayed phonological development and a have low scores on reading, vocabulary, and expression assessments (Abraham, 1996, Shirbereg, 2002). One Dutch study found a link between chronic ear infections and poor social interaction skills (Timmerman, 2002).
(can you tell I recently did a paper on this? Ask me anything...)
There is a lot of research out there and having chronic ear infections is not an automatic learning disability sentence, but it is good to know that doctors are now encouraged to be more proactive about treating these ear infections.
From a learning disabilities perspective, children who develop chronic ear infections are more likely to develop an auditory processing disorder or language delays. Children begin attending to language in their environment around the same time chronic ear infections occur, resulting in an inconsistent sound-mapping if chronic ear infections go untreated. (Koksal, 2002). Multiple studies have found that children with chronic ear infections are more likely to develop delayed phonological development and a have low scores on reading, vocabulary, and expression assessments (Abraham, 1996, Shirbereg, 2002). One Dutch study found a link between chronic ear infections and poor social interaction skills (Timmerman, 2002).
(can you tell I recently did a paper on this? Ask me anything...)
There is a lot of research out there and having chronic ear infections is not an automatic learning disability sentence, but it is good to know that doctors are now encouraged to be more proactive about treating these ear infections.
Sunday, January 2, 2011
summer internships...???
I promised myself that I'd spend my winter break filling out applications for summer internships. Swore up and down. Wrote it on every to-do list and calendar I own. I task-analyzed it and broke it into tiny little tasks so I'd have more to check off my list.
And yet, nothing was completed.
Even to-do items like "research internships" can't be crossed off because I haven't really finished my search. My resume is still half put together, and my cover letter makes me sound like the dullest person still breathing. Ack! The summer will come and I will be 100% without an internship all because of my laziness this winter. I will be forced to sit by the pool reading trashy romance novels, sipping lemonade while others are slaving away, waking up early, taking public transportation, dealing with new bosses and assignments. Hmmmm.... why am I applying for internships again?
Anyone in the DC area know of any good education internships? Possibly focusing on early childhood, education policy, or pediatric neuroscience? Anyone want to let me hang out at their pediatric neuro-practice this summer? I'll keep the kids calm while you do all the crazy stuff to their heads. Or perhaps someone would like to give me internship credit for reading lots of education policy information and then writing about it. Now there is something I can do. It's just writing the cover letter to ask to do it that's getting in the way.
And now, with only a few precious hours of winter break left I find myself blogging instead of being productive. What is becoming of me and my work ethic?
Part of me feels I should stay home until I finish my to-do list. I mean, the goal was to finish it before I went back to school, so now how can I return to school if it's not finished? Perhaps I should give myself a few more days to get it finished. Yes? I'm sure my principal will appreciate it.
The real problem is the to-do list. If I'd included items like "spend hours downloading different apps on the ipad", "stay in pjs while gazing at the Christmas tree and reading for fun", "have dance contest with cousins", or "eat more chocolate than I thought possible" then I'd consider it to be a pretty productive break. Those are the things I've accomplished. But alas, I over-shot the to-do list. And now I don't have the time to worry about the summer internship- now I have to worry about surviving tomorrow with hyped-up five year olds.
And yet, nothing was completed.
Even to-do items like "research internships" can't be crossed off because I haven't really finished my search. My resume is still half put together, and my cover letter makes me sound like the dullest person still breathing. Ack! The summer will come and I will be 100% without an internship all because of my laziness this winter. I will be forced to sit by the pool reading trashy romance novels, sipping lemonade while others are slaving away, waking up early, taking public transportation, dealing with new bosses and assignments. Hmmmm.... why am I applying for internships again?
Anyone in the DC area know of any good education internships? Possibly focusing on early childhood, education policy, or pediatric neuroscience? Anyone want to let me hang out at their pediatric neuro-practice this summer? I'll keep the kids calm while you do all the crazy stuff to their heads. Or perhaps someone would like to give me internship credit for reading lots of education policy information and then writing about it. Now there is something I can do. It's just writing the cover letter to ask to do it that's getting in the way.
And now, with only a few precious hours of winter break left I find myself blogging instead of being productive. What is becoming of me and my work ethic?
Part of me feels I should stay home until I finish my to-do list. I mean, the goal was to finish it before I went back to school, so now how can I return to school if it's not finished? Perhaps I should give myself a few more days to get it finished. Yes? I'm sure my principal will appreciate it.
The real problem is the to-do list. If I'd included items like "spend hours downloading different apps on the ipad", "stay in pjs while gazing at the Christmas tree and reading for fun", "have dance contest with cousins", or "eat more chocolate than I thought possible" then I'd consider it to be a pretty productive break. Those are the things I've accomplished. But alas, I over-shot the to-do list. And now I don't have the time to worry about the summer internship- now I have to worry about surviving tomorrow with hyped-up five year olds.
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
intelligence, self image, and hard work
I took the day off work today to study for my stats final. Or rather, not just so much to study but to remain calm. The day of my stats midterm PJ threw a beautiful, massive fit that began with him refusing to come in from the playground and ended with him, me, and two administrators in a dark room while PJ threw himself against our principal. By the time I left school I was shaky from PJ. I didn't do overly well on the midterm.
So, even though PJ has moved on, I wasn't taking any chances. With my luck today would be the day that another child would decide to have a massive fit. So instead I stayed home to study and work on the 5 other papers I have due in the next week.
The mission to stay calm has utterly failed. I am in a state of absolute panic and have pretty much convinced myself that I will fail stats causing myself to get kicked out of the program, throwing away my money and time, and embarrassing myself to everyone in my life. (notice however that I am writing this instead of studying. See how this calmness is playing out?)
I've never thought of myself as automatically smart. I'm quite use to not being the quickest person in the room, but with hard work I'm use to understanding what I'm doing. Sure college calc was a bit painful and computer programming turned out not to be my thing, but with elbow grease I made it through.
Now? Maybe it's the full time job and part time doc program or maybe it's just stats, but I'm not picking up what's being put down. I'm struggling despite locking myself away for hours over Thanksgiving break to study despite the fact we'd flown down to Atlanta.
What I realized last night, in a frantic email I wrote to my best friend (again, not studying, just panicking) was that I'm putting a lot of self-judgement on myself for not being "smart enough" at stats. And yet, I am a special ed teacher. I work with kids who work harder than everyone else in the room and still do not learn as successfully as those around them. I defend these kids to their classmates and to their teachers. I know these children are good people who will live wonderful lives, and in some cases will probably be happier and more successful than their peers who are easily learning to read.
But last night, in my long, rambling, stressed email to my friend about how I can't figure out what's going on in everyone else's head in class because everyone gets it faster than me, I realized that I haven't really internalized everything I believe about my kids. I'm judging my own worth around my intelligence based on my understanding of stats- something I would never, ever let one of my students do.
Then I think about the sad little boy I taught my first year in special ed- who wanted to learn to read so badly but despite all our hard work he still cannot read, although he is now in 4th grade. If I feel this way about stats, how does he feel?
I'm leaving this post half way through because I actually do HAVE to go study. And maybe now I'll try to use this opportunity of struggling as an opportunity to relate to my students. There's a bright side in every situation, right?
So, even though PJ has moved on, I wasn't taking any chances. With my luck today would be the day that another child would decide to have a massive fit. So instead I stayed home to study and work on the 5 other papers I have due in the next week.
The mission to stay calm has utterly failed. I am in a state of absolute panic and have pretty much convinced myself that I will fail stats causing myself to get kicked out of the program, throwing away my money and time, and embarrassing myself to everyone in my life. (notice however that I am writing this instead of studying. See how this calmness is playing out?)
I've never thought of myself as automatically smart. I'm quite use to not being the quickest person in the room, but with hard work I'm use to understanding what I'm doing. Sure college calc was a bit painful and computer programming turned out not to be my thing, but with elbow grease I made it through.
Now? Maybe it's the full time job and part time doc program or maybe it's just stats, but I'm not picking up what's being put down. I'm struggling despite locking myself away for hours over Thanksgiving break to study despite the fact we'd flown down to Atlanta.
What I realized last night, in a frantic email I wrote to my best friend (again, not studying, just panicking) was that I'm putting a lot of self-judgement on myself for not being "smart enough" at stats. And yet, I am a special ed teacher. I work with kids who work harder than everyone else in the room and still do not learn as successfully as those around them. I defend these kids to their classmates and to their teachers. I know these children are good people who will live wonderful lives, and in some cases will probably be happier and more successful than their peers who are easily learning to read.
But last night, in my long, rambling, stressed email to my friend about how I can't figure out what's going on in everyone else's head in class because everyone gets it faster than me, I realized that I haven't really internalized everything I believe about my kids. I'm judging my own worth around my intelligence based on my understanding of stats- something I would never, ever let one of my students do.
Then I think about the sad little boy I taught my first year in special ed- who wanted to learn to read so badly but despite all our hard work he still cannot read, although he is now in 4th grade. If I feel this way about stats, how does he feel?
I'm leaving this post half way through because I actually do HAVE to go study. And maybe now I'll try to use this opportunity of struggling as an opportunity to relate to my students. There's a bright side in every situation, right?
Sunday, November 14, 2010
geeking it up
I'm ridiculously excited about some of the upcoming conferences and events I've got on the horizon. Next weekend I'll be at the Learning & the Brain conference in Boston. I absolutely cannot wait. Check out this list of speakers and presenters. Alfie Kohn, Nagleri, Howard-Jones, Kagan... all people whose work I've read, cited repeatedly, and wondered what else they had to offer. Some of the session objectives include:
AND, in terms of geeking it up in the future, splatypus, my awesome co-teacher, and I are leading a conversation at EduCon 2.3 this January in Philly about using Google Docs as a collaboration tool. I've never gone to EduCon in person before, I've always just attended virtually, getting up early on a weekend morning to hover over my computer in my pjs to follow the conversation. Needless to say this time I'm psyched to be attending in person (although I will miss contemplating the greater meaning of education in my pjs.)
This Tuesday I'm hoping to attend a Global Summit on using technology with people with disabilities in downtown DC. Although I am also really excited about this opportunity, much of me being able to take off work will depend on PJ. And so, I'll keep my fingers crossed, but I wont be holding my breath.
- brain-based strategies to improve learning, memory and executive skills
- How stress, sleep, exercise and obesity affect brains, learning, and test scores
- Neuromyths and ways neuroscience can improve teaching and achievement
- Rethinking learning, multilingual, reading and math teaching and treatment
- The effects of unhealthy brain and school-family environments on learning
- Strategies to help struggling students, math learners and multilingual children
- The role of environment in early education, temperament and creativity
AND, in terms of geeking it up in the future, splatypus, my awesome co-teacher, and I are leading a conversation at EduCon 2.3 this January in Philly about using Google Docs as a collaboration tool. I've never gone to EduCon in person before, I've always just attended virtually, getting up early on a weekend morning to hover over my computer in my pjs to follow the conversation. Needless to say this time I'm psyched to be attending in person (although I will miss contemplating the greater meaning of education in my pjs.)
This Tuesday I'm hoping to attend a Global Summit on using technology with people with disabilities in downtown DC. Although I am also really excited about this opportunity, much of me being able to take off work will depend on PJ. And so, I'll keep my fingers crossed, but I wont be holding my breath.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
stress, kids & teaching our hearts out
In my Intro to Educational Neuroscience class this evening we went over the effects stress has on the brain. I'd heard it before, but none the less, every time I hear it or read it I find it striking.
As one of my classmates put it, stress actually "eats" the hippocampus region of the brain where short-term memories are transferred into long term memories, and spacial navigation are located. Stress causes a decrease in the natural replacement of brain cells in the hippocampus, actually shrinking the size of the area over time if someone is exposed to chronic stress. The same thing happens in the amygdala as well- the region of the brain that plays a role in processing of memories and emotional regulation. Children under chronic stress have also been seen to have smaller corpus callosums, which is the fibers that connect the two halves of the brain. This can impact processing throughout the brain.
I can't help but hear this and see faces of little ones I've taught over the years- ones who worried whether or not mom would come home that night, whether or not dad would wake them up in the middle of the night on a drunken binge. Little ones abused with belts, denied food, or locked in closets. Little ones living place to place, never quite knowing where they'd spend the night. For some school seemed to be the last thing on their priority list. They seemed to love it inside the building, ate up attention from adults and loved playing with their friends, but academically we could all end up grinding our teeth to get through a guided reading lesson. Not all of them of course, but many.
I had trouble focusing on my statistics midterm yesterday because of a particularly rough afternoon when PJ and I weren't seeing eye to eye. We've always known what stress does to us, but to be able to see the physical brain changes when our little ones are under stress- in those moments their brains are not working as we'd like them to.
What do we do? All I can think is to create a safe environment where they know they are loved, welcomed, and free to take risks. Once we've let them know they are safe then we teach our hearts out, working on putting as much as we can into long-term memory to free up space in their working memory so they can process tasks quicker. Particularly since their working memories are most likely already full of non-school related information.
As one of my classmates put it, stress actually "eats" the hippocampus region of the brain where short-term memories are transferred into long term memories, and spacial navigation are located. Stress causes a decrease in the natural replacement of brain cells in the hippocampus, actually shrinking the size of the area over time if someone is exposed to chronic stress. The same thing happens in the amygdala as well- the region of the brain that plays a role in processing of memories and emotional regulation. Children under chronic stress have also been seen to have smaller corpus callosums, which is the fibers that connect the two halves of the brain. This can impact processing throughout the brain.
I can't help but hear this and see faces of little ones I've taught over the years- ones who worried whether or not mom would come home that night, whether or not dad would wake them up in the middle of the night on a drunken binge. Little ones abused with belts, denied food, or locked in closets. Little ones living place to place, never quite knowing where they'd spend the night. For some school seemed to be the last thing on their priority list. They seemed to love it inside the building, ate up attention from adults and loved playing with their friends, but academically we could all end up grinding our teeth to get through a guided reading lesson. Not all of them of course, but many.
I had trouble focusing on my statistics midterm yesterday because of a particularly rough afternoon when PJ and I weren't seeing eye to eye. We've always known what stress does to us, but to be able to see the physical brain changes when our little ones are under stress- in those moments their brains are not working as we'd like them to.
What do we do? All I can think is to create a safe environment where they know they are loved, welcomed, and free to take risks. Once we've let them know they are safe then we teach our hearts out, working on putting as much as we can into long-term memory to free up space in their working memory so they can process tasks quicker. Particularly since their working memories are most likely already full of non-school related information.
Sunday, October 10, 2010
violations of homoscedascity
It's a beautiful Sunday. The leaves are starting to change, the air is crisp but not cold, the sun is shinning, and I am sitting at my desk surrounded by Stats study materials, staring out at the window.
The mere fact that I had to take a statistics class filled me with dread when I applied for the Doctorate program. Then I found out I'll take a total of 4 Stats classes, if not more, before I'm finished with this thing. That seems like a long, long way away.
Until last Tuesday I actually thought it was going along well. Iam was ridiculously impressed by my professor. Unlike many professors she actually embodies much of what we know is good instruction. She repeats herself frequently, provides visuals, gives us mnemonics, tells stories, gives us the right amount of guided practice so we can apply what we know. She clearly isn't just in this for her personal research- and she's not just standing in front of the classroom delivering information- she's teaching. She is dedicated to making sure we know this stuff. And, until Tuesday, I thought that was a great thing.
I'd leave class each week feeling like I understood statistics- something I never really had any hope that I'd understand. Other than the problem that I get distracted by her wardrobe and frequently wonder where she purchased her cute clothes, I felt like I was on top of it because of her teaching. Even her course objectives are written like IEP goals:
"Given a frequency distribute table, locate or calculate range, apparent limits, real/exact limits, interval width, and midpoints."
I know exactly what is expected- I can check off the objectives one by one to determine whether or not I'm on track.
Wow, how refreshing, I found myself thinking every Tuesday evening as I walked back to the metro- a professor who understands how people learn and how to teach so that students truly internalize the information. This is brilliant. This is what I need to survive stats.
Then last Tuesday rolled around and she explained our upcoming midterm. She's not giving us a midterm where we can plug and chug formulas and numbers. She's not giving us a midterm where we can write definitions to show our knowledge. It's not even just word problems. There are essays. Essays to prove that we understand the concepts behind the numbers.
Because, she explained, of Bloom's taxonomy.
Bloom's taxonomy.
I've only heard Bloom's taxonomy explained in a college class because we were being told to use it as teachers. I've never seen it actually applied. I've never had a professor say that he or she was basing questions off of Bloom's taxonomy so he or she would know whether or not we truly conceptualized and could apply the information instead of just being able to define or calculate the information.
Stupid professor with her stupid understanding of how people learn and how to make sure her students truly internalize the information.
I can give definitions.
I can plug numbers into equations.
I can answer word problems.
I have no idea why any of it works. I don't know why we put the numbers into the equations. I can tell you that homoscedascity has been violated- but I can't tell you the concept behind why it exists.
No one has ever asked that of me in a math class before.
I continue to be impressed with my professor, but I now have moved on to resentment of her desire to fill me with a true understanding of stats. Because it is a beautiful day, the leaves are starting to change, the air is crisp but not cold, and I am sitting here contemplating what is occurring when least squares regression is used, but I am pretty sure that after this weekend I will understand linear regression like I've never understood any other math in my entire life.
*sigh*
On another note, apparently doctorate students are just like 4th graders- they google their teachers. The other day a few of my classmates told me they'd googled our professor and were telling everyone what they'd found. None of it was shocking, it was what you'd get if you googled any 30 year old. (Yeah, 30, at least that's how old I think she is now that I too have googled her.) So maybe it's not just 4th graders who are shocked that their teachers have a life outside of school.
The mere fact that I had to take a statistics class filled me with dread when I applied for the Doctorate program. Then I found out I'll take a total of 4 Stats classes, if not more, before I'm finished with this thing. That seems like a long, long way away.
Until last Tuesday I actually thought it was going along well. I
I'd leave class each week feeling like I understood statistics- something I never really had any hope that I'd understand. Other than the problem that I get distracted by her wardrobe and frequently wonder where she purchased her cute clothes, I felt like I was on top of it because of her teaching. Even her course objectives are written like IEP goals:
"Given a frequency distribute table, locate or calculate range, apparent limits, real/exact limits, interval width, and midpoints."
I know exactly what is expected- I can check off the objectives one by one to determine whether or not I'm on track.
Wow, how refreshing, I found myself thinking every Tuesday evening as I walked back to the metro- a professor who understands how people learn and how to teach so that students truly internalize the information. This is brilliant. This is what I need to survive stats.
Then last Tuesday rolled around and she explained our upcoming midterm. She's not giving us a midterm where we can plug and chug formulas and numbers. She's not giving us a midterm where we can write definitions to show our knowledge. It's not even just word problems. There are essays. Essays to prove that we understand the concepts behind the numbers.
Because, she explained, of Bloom's taxonomy.
Bloom's taxonomy.
I've only heard Bloom's taxonomy explained in a college class because we were being told to use it as teachers. I've never seen it actually applied. I've never had a professor say that he or she was basing questions off of Bloom's taxonomy so he or she would know whether or not we truly conceptualized and could apply the information instead of just being able to define or calculate the information.
Stupid professor with her stupid understanding of how people learn and how to make sure her students truly internalize the information.
I can give definitions.
I can plug numbers into equations.
I can answer word problems.
I have no idea why any of it works. I don't know why we put the numbers into the equations. I can tell you that homoscedascity has been violated- but I can't tell you the concept behind why it exists.
No one has ever asked that of me in a math class before.
I continue to be impressed with my professor, but I now have moved on to resentment of her desire to fill me with a true understanding of stats. Because it is a beautiful day, the leaves are starting to change, the air is crisp but not cold, and I am sitting here contemplating what is occurring when least squares regression is used, but I am pretty sure that after this weekend I will understand linear regression like I've never understood any other math in my entire life.
*sigh*
On another note, apparently doctorate students are just like 4th graders- they google their teachers. The other day a few of my classmates told me they'd googled our professor and were telling everyone what they'd found. None of it was shocking, it was what you'd get if you googled any 30 year old. (Yeah, 30, at least that's how old I think she is now that I too have googled her.) So maybe it's not just 4th graders who are shocked that their teachers have a life outside of school.
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
distractions
Me: Look at Mrs. Partner in Crime when she's talking.
Pixie: Wow, nice glasses.
Me: What were the directions?
Pixie: I love your rings.
Me: Look at my face. Am I happy or sad?
Pixie: Wow, where'd you get that necklace?
Teeth grind, deep breath, it is only the second week of school.
Then, tonight I sat in my Stats class and tried really, really hard to pay attention. I really want to know this stuff, and I really want to do well in stats, and I really tried to focus on what my professor was saying. But she was wearing this adorably cute dress and I wondered where she got it. And then I wondered if I had time to buy a new dress for back to school night tomorrow, which made me wonder what I would wear to Back to School Night, and all of a sudden I had no idea what was going on with the numbers, graphs, and squiggly lines on the board.
Pixie and Me? Not so different after all...
Monday, September 6, 2010
please don't finish my sentences
For my introduction to neuroscience class in my Sped Doc program we're reading the book, My Stroke of Insight by Jill Bolte Taylor. It's absolutely fascinating- Taylor, a brain scientist, writes about her experience of having a stroke- describing which areas of her brain went down based on the functions she lost the morning of her stroke- and then what needed to be done to re-build or re-map those areas of her brain to gain her skills back. It's an easy read and is a great intro to the regions of the brain because instead of just reading a dry text book which lists the regions of the brain and what they do, Taylor describes the regions and then describes in detail, and with emotional attachment, what happens when you lose that region.
Taylor dedicates one of her chapters to what she needed most for a successful recovery, which she also includes in a list form in the appendix. Her list begins with excellent recommendations when considering how to meet the needs of anyone in intensive care, or in a long-term hospital stay, but as it continues Taylor shifts from her needs as a patient to her learning needs. As someone who understood the brain she knew exactly what was needed to rebuild her brain- the kind of environment, support, and structure that were essential in bringing her back to her life as a professor. In many ways she describes what our learners, particularly our learners with special needs, need in order to be successful.
"For a successful recovery, it was important that we focus on my ability, not my disability" she writes.
"I needed people to celebrate the triumphs I made every day because my successes, no matter how small, inspired me."- Amen. Sometimes it is so hard to see the tiny little steps toward success our children are making when we are so focused on the end goal (that seems SO far away) but encouraging them and celebrating each step will give them to motivation to keep working toward that end goal.
"My successful recovery was completely dependent on my ability to break every task down into smaller and simpler steps of action" Baby steps. Everything can be simplified for our kids- from writing the letter g (start with the curve of the c first before finishing the o) to how to manipulate scissors. Piece by piece put it together. It's just a different way of looking at tasks.
"Look for what obstacles prevent me from succeeding on a task."
"Clarify for me what the next level or step is so I know what I am working toward."
"Remember that I have to be proficient at one level of function before I can move on to the next level."
"I needed my caregivers to teach me with patience."
The one that struck me the most though was, "Please don't finish my sentences for me or fill in words I can't find. I need to work my brain."
We know to give children wait-time. During instruction time we know to sit and let children find the answers even when it becomes uncomfortable- yet I find we don't do that when we are merely chatting with children. As adults we are too quick to fill the silence when our children are searching for words to answer our questions.
"Did you have a good summer?" we ask, and then immediately jump into, "Did you go to the pool? Did you go to the beach? Did you read any good books?" without giving answer time.
"I bet you went to the pool! Was the water cold? Did your pool having a diving board?"
We can go on and on with these questions, and before you know it, we've had a conversation with ourselves. When we do this we are immersing our children in vocabulary, but we're not giving them the chance to use that vocabulary. They need to be able to search and find those words themselves.
We're also quick to give our children the words when they seem to be searching for the correct English word. "Um, you know, the long thing over the water?" and as though we're answering a trivia question we jump in, "The diving board!" "Yeah, that" the child answers, usually not even bothering to repeat the lost word to us.
Once I read Taylor's request for being able to finish her sentences I became hyper-aware of what I was doing in my conversations not just with my children but with their parents, and my co-workers. I realized that when someone jumped in to finish my sentence I did shut down- I handed the task of finishing the thought to them, as though my brain was turning off. Usually it was for nothing important- directions on how to get lunch at a nearby deli, or where to find the copy room in our school- but if my brain shut down when giving information it knows cold, it must be more than happy to do that when someone completes an answer for me that I don't know as well.
My goal this year is to allow children wait time, not just in academic settings but even in our daily conversation. Let them have the practice of finding the vocabulary words they want to use, practice searching their brains for the English word that corresponds with what they are thinking. Hopefully tomorrow, in the midst of the screaming, home sick kindergartners, I'll be able to somewhat remember this...
Taylor dedicates one of her chapters to what she needed most for a successful recovery, which she also includes in a list form in the appendix. Her list begins with excellent recommendations when considering how to meet the needs of anyone in intensive care, or in a long-term hospital stay, but as it continues Taylor shifts from her needs as a patient to her learning needs. As someone who understood the brain she knew exactly what was needed to rebuild her brain- the kind of environment, support, and structure that were essential in bringing her back to her life as a professor. In many ways she describes what our learners, particularly our learners with special needs, need in order to be successful.
"For a successful recovery, it was important that we focus on my ability, not my disability" she writes.
"I needed people to celebrate the triumphs I made every day because my successes, no matter how small, inspired me."- Amen. Sometimes it is so hard to see the tiny little steps toward success our children are making when we are so focused on the end goal (that seems SO far away) but encouraging them and celebrating each step will give them to motivation to keep working toward that end goal.
"My successful recovery was completely dependent on my ability to break every task down into smaller and simpler steps of action" Baby steps. Everything can be simplified for our kids- from writing the letter g (start with the curve of the c first before finishing the o) to how to manipulate scissors. Piece by piece put it together. It's just a different way of looking at tasks.
"Look for what obstacles prevent me from succeeding on a task."
"Clarify for me what the next level or step is so I know what I am working toward."
"Remember that I have to be proficient at one level of function before I can move on to the next level."
"I needed my caregivers to teach me with patience."
The one that struck me the most though was, "Please don't finish my sentences for me or fill in words I can't find. I need to work my brain."
We know to give children wait-time. During instruction time we know to sit and let children find the answers even when it becomes uncomfortable- yet I find we don't do that when we are merely chatting with children. As adults we are too quick to fill the silence when our children are searching for words to answer our questions.
"Did you have a good summer?" we ask, and then immediately jump into, "Did you go to the pool? Did you go to the beach? Did you read any good books?" without giving answer time.
"I bet you went to the pool! Was the water cold? Did your pool having a diving board?"
We can go on and on with these questions, and before you know it, we've had a conversation with ourselves. When we do this we are immersing our children in vocabulary, but we're not giving them the chance to use that vocabulary. They need to be able to search and find those words themselves.
We're also quick to give our children the words when they seem to be searching for the correct English word. "Um, you know, the long thing over the water?" and as though we're answering a trivia question we jump in, "The diving board!" "Yeah, that" the child answers, usually not even bothering to repeat the lost word to us.
Once I read Taylor's request for being able to finish her sentences I became hyper-aware of what I was doing in my conversations not just with my children but with their parents, and my co-workers. I realized that when someone jumped in to finish my sentence I did shut down- I handed the task of finishing the thought to them, as though my brain was turning off. Usually it was for nothing important- directions on how to get lunch at a nearby deli, or where to find the copy room in our school- but if my brain shut down when giving information it knows cold, it must be more than happy to do that when someone completes an answer for me that I don't know as well.
My goal this year is to allow children wait time, not just in academic settings but even in our daily conversation. Let them have the practice of finding the vocabulary words they want to use, practice searching their brains for the English word that corresponds with what they are thinking. Hopefully tomorrow, in the midst of the screaming, home sick kindergartners, I'll be able to somewhat remember this...
Thursday, August 19, 2010
new books!
I think my absolute favorite part of going to school is going to the bookstore to pick up your new books. It is, after all, mandatory book shopping. Is there anything better than opening the cover for the first time- before it is a requirement- and skimming through the pages, reading bits and pieces for the pure joy of new information and not because it will be on the test?
These are my text books for one of my classes this fall. I am so excited.
The other class is Intro to Educational Statistics. I can't bring myself to buy those books yet. They are big and scary and expensive. I'm going to pretend that class isn't happening until it is here.
One more week of summer break before graduate school and the chaos of back-to-school begins. I feel like I'm treading water while I wait for everything to come into itself. My days are suddenly filled with mandatory laziness (get it in now since I wont have time to get it in later) and desperately trying to finish all those projects and errands I'd told myself I'd do this summer when school ended in June.
I spent the morning reading in the Sculpture Garden at the National Gallery of Art, followed by frozen yogurt for lunch at one of those new fro-yo places in downtown dc. It was the perfect lazy summer morning. Then I came home and tried to organize our home office. It's not going well, so I'm flipping through my new textbooks instead. :)
one more week.
Thursday, August 12, 2010
What do Educators Need to Know?
John Lloyd, an education professor at the University of Virginia is asking educators what they want to know about teaching and supporting students with Emotional and Behavioral Disorders, as well as when teaching students with Learning Disabilities.
I'm drawing a complete blank at the moment, but hopefully by the end of the day I'll have thought of some questions. Meanwhile, I'm sure the rest of you have plenty of questions floating around in your head- click over to his two blogs (links above) and ask away!
He gives some examples of the type of questions he's looking for:
Possible research questions about teaching students with LD:
- Does RTI really help prevent problems in (a) reading, (b) writing, (c) math, and (d) social-behaviorl outcomes? Does effectiveness vary by age?
- Do curricular approaches produce different benefits for students with LD?
- What procedures produce the best outcomes for students with LD when they are 25 years old?
- What specific competencies make teachers more or less successful in promoting learning by students with LD?
Possible research questions about teaching students with Emotional/Behavioral Disorders:
- Do consultation teams have greater benefits than school-wide behavior plans in reducing problem behavior?
- Do students with EBD benefit differentially from highly structured classroom arrangements?
- What procedures produce the best outcomes for students with EBD when they are 25 years old?
- How can teachers monitor progress in student behavior across time, a la CBM for academic performance?
- What specific competencies make teachers more or less successful in promoting learning by students with EBD?
Monday, July 12, 2010
An easy-read on Cognitive Science in the classroom
When I first heard about Daniel Willingham's book, Why Don't Students Like School? I immediately ran to the nearest bookstore to buy it. (It helped that the Borders on 14th and F is closing and is having a whole-store sale... but regardless, I immediately went out and bought the book.)
The subtitle reads: "A cognitive scientist answers questions about how the mind works and what it means for the classroom" so I immediately thought it was right up my ally.
It was, but as fascinated as I was, I was equally disappointed. While it is easy to read, I couldn't help feel that Willingham isn't a fan of teachers. He seems to go out of his way to tell us what a hard job we have, but in a way that is almost condescending. He seems frustrated by teachers, and writes in a way I wonder if he was told by his editor, "You know, this book is great, but it's above teachers' heads. Dumb it down a bit, add some pop culture references, use slower language, and pat teachers on the back a lot so they'll keep reading".
Or maybe I'm just too sensitive.
Regardless, the book is fascinating and does an excellent job of explaining working memory. As a teacher there is nothing more frustrating than sitting through a Staffing meeting with your school psych, guidance couselors, admin, etc to go over the results of the Psychological evaluations for a particular student and learning that your student has almost no working memory. What does that mean, and, more importantly, what on earth are you suppose to do about it?? As a classroom teacher I remember the absolute feeling of loss I'd feel staring at those numbers. SO, now I'm suppose to go back to my room, by myself with 20 other kids, and teach him to tell time when he can't hold the names of numbers in his head?
I know I'll be sharing the first few chapters on memory with my teachers and coworkers when we're back in school.
I guess what disappointed me the most was that overall, the book was just a repetition of classes I took while getting my Masters. I did get my Masters from the same university where Willingham teaches, and it seems that my Masters curriculum could have spun off of Willingham's work. Then again, I always hear people lament about their poor education classes, which at times surprises me. My undergraduate education classes were horrid, so I know that awful education classes exist, but my Masters experience was fabulous. It made me a better teacher, and I know I wouldn't succeed in special ed without it. That being said, Willingham's book covers a lot of exactly what I found important in my classes, and exactly what changed my teaching. Throughout my special ed classes we all frequently found it frustrating that the only reason we were getting these classes was because we worked with the special education population. I suppose our kids are the ones who need the absolute most help, and therefore it is far more imperative that we learn how to get information into their little heads, despite their small working memories and limitations due to their disabilities. Still, what I learned there, and what is covered in Willingham's book, I use with all kids.
The book tackles the questions that we struggled the most with in classes- and had many classes to fight back and finally feel comfortable with the answer that yes, our professor was correct. Willingham discusses learning styles and how Gardner never intended us to use them in education, and how they are not actually helpful. (Many of our classes were spent argueing with our professor until finally, after reading enough studies & doing our own projects with students, we realized she was correct- learning styles are somewhat of a myth). Willingham also covers the importance of learning facts, putting information into long-term memory to help free up space in working memory (ie, memorization) and other techniques that may feel wrong, but in fact, once you accept them (as we eventually did in our Masters classes) we realize our kids absolutely need this kind of teaching. This understanding is exactly what truly changed my teaching and turned around non-readers.
So, I do recommend Willingham's book if you're looking for an interesting read this summer- it's quick & easy to read, and maybe you wont be as annoyed as I was by his teacher attitude. What's in his book is what made me a better teacher, and it served as a great reminder/refresher of what good teaching truly is.
The subtitle reads: "A cognitive scientist answers questions about how the mind works and what it means for the classroom" so I immediately thought it was right up my ally.
It was, but as fascinated as I was, I was equally disappointed. While it is easy to read, I couldn't help feel that Willingham isn't a fan of teachers. He seems to go out of his way to tell us what a hard job we have, but in a way that is almost condescending. He seems frustrated by teachers, and writes in a way I wonder if he was told by his editor, "You know, this book is great, but it's above teachers' heads. Dumb it down a bit, add some pop culture references, use slower language, and pat teachers on the back a lot so they'll keep reading".
Or maybe I'm just too sensitive.
Regardless, the book is fascinating and does an excellent job of explaining working memory. As a teacher there is nothing more frustrating than sitting through a Staffing meeting with your school psych, guidance couselors, admin, etc to go over the results of the Psychological evaluations for a particular student and learning that your student has almost no working memory. What does that mean, and, more importantly, what on earth are you suppose to do about it?? As a classroom teacher I remember the absolute feeling of loss I'd feel staring at those numbers. SO, now I'm suppose to go back to my room, by myself with 20 other kids, and teach him to tell time when he can't hold the names of numbers in his head?
I know I'll be sharing the first few chapters on memory with my teachers and coworkers when we're back in school.
I guess what disappointed me the most was that overall, the book was just a repetition of classes I took while getting my Masters. I did get my Masters from the same university where Willingham teaches, and it seems that my Masters curriculum could have spun off of Willingham's work. Then again, I always hear people lament about their poor education classes, which at times surprises me. My undergraduate education classes were horrid, so I know that awful education classes exist, but my Masters experience was fabulous. It made me a better teacher, and I know I wouldn't succeed in special ed without it. That being said, Willingham's book covers a lot of exactly what I found important in my classes, and exactly what changed my teaching. Throughout my special ed classes we all frequently found it frustrating that the only reason we were getting these classes was because we worked with the special education population. I suppose our kids are the ones who need the absolute most help, and therefore it is far more imperative that we learn how to get information into their little heads, despite their small working memories and limitations due to their disabilities. Still, what I learned there, and what is covered in Willingham's book, I use with all kids.
The book tackles the questions that we struggled the most with in classes- and had many classes to fight back and finally feel comfortable with the answer that yes, our professor was correct. Willingham discusses learning styles and how Gardner never intended us to use them in education, and how they are not actually helpful. (Many of our classes were spent argueing with our professor until finally, after reading enough studies & doing our own projects with students, we realized she was correct- learning styles are somewhat of a myth). Willingham also covers the importance of learning facts, putting information into long-term memory to help free up space in working memory (ie, memorization) and other techniques that may feel wrong, but in fact, once you accept them (as we eventually did in our Masters classes) we realize our kids absolutely need this kind of teaching. This understanding is exactly what truly changed my teaching and turned around non-readers.
So, I do recommend Willingham's book if you're looking for an interesting read this summer- it's quick & easy to read, and maybe you wont be as annoyed as I was by his teacher attitude. What's in his book is what made me a better teacher, and it served as a great reminder/refresher of what good teaching truly is.
Thursday, June 17, 2010
decisions, decisions
Back in October I wrote about the phd programs I was looking into. I spent the year writing essays, ordering academic records & test scores, and submitting my applications to two different grad schools.
One is in-state, less than 5 minutes from my current school. An easy commute & in-state tuition. How can you go wrong?
The other is in DC, which means out of state tuition, as well as commuting into the city and trying to find parking in order to attend classes. Or late nights waiting on the metro and then the bus to take me home.
I have been accepted into both of them, and am desperately trying to decide what to do.
The absolute logic side of life tells me to go to the in-state program. Then again, the absolute logic side of life tells me to not get a phd at all, and enjoy my life as it is.
Sometimes logic is stupid.
When I discovered the DC program two years ago I immediately knew I had to go. Part of the program's description is:
The program incorporates the changing knowledge landscape of human growth and development by offering opportunities to translate and apply new neuroscience research for populations at risk for atypical development and learning processes. The special education curriculum and student research opportunities are aligned with developing knowledge about the plasticity of the brain and neurological processes as they relate to cognition, language and social-affective development. The course work is designed to deepen knowledge of disability in society and understanding of the response of social institutions to atypical development.
When I first read that I wanted to cry. I want to take those classes. I want that knowledge.
If it was not for that description I would not have even considered a phd program. Maybe another masters in a few years, but why get a phd?
In fact, getting a phd can actually make me a less desirable applicant in some school districts because I would require a higher pay check. More education will actually make it harder to get a job in education.
And if I want to leave schools? What are the chances I'll get a job that pays better than my public school salary? So I'll pay lots of money to educate myself out of having the job I love, and possibly educate myself out of getting paid a somewhat comfortable salary.
So what am I thinking?
But how do I NOT go? Ever since I've learned about this program it's been almost all I've thought about. As I finished my masters courses I would occasionally go back to the website just to read and re-read the program description and the course catalogue. I want this. I want the knowledge, the opportunities it may open up, the challenge, the experience.
I could of course, go half-way, and settle for the in-state program, getting a phd and not going into extreme debt. But if the program is not perfect, what is the purpose of going? I don't necessarily want to have a phd, I want the knowledge of the DC program.
Do I need to be an adult and make the grown up decision of not going into debt?
Or can I go after what I want?
Any one know of someone who wants to pay for me to get my doctorate? Any grants out there that will help me? Any one looking to hire someone for the summer so I can make some extra cash?
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
smoking, lead, and what we guessed all along
I love this blog because it's really the only place that keeps me up to date on current studies that otherwise I wouldn't even know existed now that I'm out of grad school. Clearly I don't read the whole study, but this blog does a great job posting the important snippets.
The current study being discussed is one that shows exposure to lead and maternal prenatal smoking are linked to a diagnosis of ADHD when taken as individual factors, but when taken together have an even greater correlation to a diagnosis of ADHD.
I don't think any of us are surprised.
Here's the thing though- I knew very little about lead exposure before a few years ago when I had a student with significant special needs due to lead poisoning. I went and read everything I could google on the subject and learned a few interesting facts:
1) Lead is sweet. They used it as a sweetener in Ancient Greece until someone made them stop because it was literally making them stupider.
2) No matter how many times lead paint has been painted over, once the top coat of paint cracks, the lead paint underneath will crack and fall off as well.
Picture a baby crawling along the floor, putting everything that crosses his path into his mouth because, well, that's what babies do. Somehow a small paint chip ends up on his hand as it makes its way to his mouth. One small taste- but it tastes good. Sweet. So why not go back for more? It's not that your mom isn't watching you- or that your house hasn't been repainted- or that you're allowed to suck on a lead-painted toy. It's that you are a baby, you explore with your mouth, and when something tastes good you're going to put it in your mouth again.
That year I also learned that a child needs to have a certain level of lead in their blood for it to be considered significant. But other children in my class also had high levels of lead in their blood, but because their official level was a point or two below the cut off the lead was not considered to be a problem.
I'm not a doctor, and I only know my facts from google, and not somewhere professional so I could be way off base. But I think lead exposure occurs more than we think it does, especially in schools where children grow up in subsidized housing. As this study shows, when combined with other factors like prenatal exposure to smoke, it can lead to significant problems that interfere with learning.
The current study being discussed is one that shows exposure to lead and maternal prenatal smoking are linked to a diagnosis of ADHD when taken as individual factors, but when taken together have an even greater correlation to a diagnosis of ADHD.
I don't think any of us are surprised.
Here's the thing though- I knew very little about lead exposure before a few years ago when I had a student with significant special needs due to lead poisoning. I went and read everything I could google on the subject and learned a few interesting facts:
1) Lead is sweet. They used it as a sweetener in Ancient Greece until someone made them stop because it was literally making them stupider.
2) No matter how many times lead paint has been painted over, once the top coat of paint cracks, the lead paint underneath will crack and fall off as well.
Picture a baby crawling along the floor, putting everything that crosses his path into his mouth because, well, that's what babies do. Somehow a small paint chip ends up on his hand as it makes its way to his mouth. One small taste- but it tastes good. Sweet. So why not go back for more? It's not that your mom isn't watching you- or that your house hasn't been repainted- or that you're allowed to suck on a lead-painted toy. It's that you are a baby, you explore with your mouth, and when something tastes good you're going to put it in your mouth again.
That year I also learned that a child needs to have a certain level of lead in their blood for it to be considered significant. But other children in my class also had high levels of lead in their blood, but because their official level was a point or two below the cut off the lead was not considered to be a problem.
I'm not a doctor, and I only know my facts from google, and not somewhere professional so I could be way off base. But I think lead exposure occurs more than we think it does, especially in schools where children grow up in subsidized housing. As this study shows, when combined with other factors like prenatal exposure to smoke, it can lead to significant problems that interfere with learning.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
procrastination...
I told myself that I'd use my last 4 days of vacation after we returned from Peru to get on top of my applications for phd programs. I told myself I'd be very productive- not having work or grad school work, well, I'd have plenty of time to get the applications together. Right?
I have caught up on shows on my dvr. My cat and I have napped. I've done laundry. I've made lasagna. I've caught up on my google reader. Spent way too much time on facebook. Played with pictures from my trip.
Yet every time I sit down to work on my application I sit frozen at my computer. I can't move. My fingers can't even bring themselves to type in the web address for the online application site.
I'm terrified.
The program I've discovered, just a few miles away, is perfect. Reading the course catalogue makes me want to cry with joy. It's description of its program is:
This approach links neuroscience and cognitive science to the development of interventions for individuals at risk for atypical growth, development, and learning. Interventions are viewed as multi-layered and include evidence-based actions targeted at the development of the individual child, the family and school system and at social policy.
neuroscience and cognitive science to the development of interventions for individuals... I want to have that knowledge. I want to do that reading, sit in those classes, study those facts. I want to know more about the science behind the children I work with. I want the knowledge.
I cried when I saw that one credit at this university (the most expensive undergrad in the country), one credit is 1,400. I can't even take a class to see if I want to go there- 3 credits is a budget for a vacation overseas.
SO, I've told myself I'll apply, see what happens. They have a lot of scholarships. Maybe I'll get a scholarship. Or something. Maybe we'll win the lottery. Maybe they'll suddenly pay teachers a million dollars.
So I've decided to do it. Try it. And so I come to the essay. The part where I'm suppose to write about why I want to go to their school. Why I want to be a leader in the field.
And the screen is blank.
Because what do I say?
To Whom it May Concern:
I am a big dork and I really just like learning. I want to have your knowledge, but I don't want to be a leader in the field. I want to keep the very job I have now. I love my job. I love the kids. I work at the think-tank for kids I adore. I just want to be better at my job. I want to sit in your classes, write papers for you, and soak up knowledge so I can understand kids even better than I do now. Please give me lots of money so I can do that while still keeping my current, fabulous job. I will not bring fame to your program. I will not change the way people in the field approach education. But I will use what you teach me to change the lives of children and I will do that every day, in a public school, for the children who need it most. Thank you, Mrs. Lipstick
Somehow I don't think that will cut it.
But it is the truth. I love my job. I don't want to over-educate myself out of a job I love. Sure down the line (a long time from now) I think I'd enjoy being a professor. But one at night school so I can still work with children during the day. I know that when I go too long without teaching I start to get depressed and anxious, as though I am not a complete person. But I also love learning about being a better teacher. And yes, I could do as many professional development workshops as I can handle, but that's not the same. I want to dive into knowledge. I want to understand more about the brain. I want to understand the neuroscience and cognitive science behind special education.
And if I finally get this written, get recommendations, do all the various paperwork that goes along with the application- what happens next?
if I get in?
Do I have to make the decision for us to be poor for awhile just because being in classes is a fun hobby for me?
Do I decide to balance work, school, and family for another few years?
Do I decide not to- choosing family and money over my dying curiosity about neuroscience and special education? Where am I then? Will I be ok with my decision?
And so, I am obviously blogging about this as a way, once again, to push off getting the work done. Funny how that works out. Maybe I should check facebook one more time... who knows what's happened in those last 20 minutes...
I have caught up on shows on my dvr. My cat and I have napped. I've done laundry. I've made lasagna. I've caught up on my google reader. Spent way too much time on facebook. Played with pictures from my trip.
Yet every time I sit down to work on my application I sit frozen at my computer. I can't move. My fingers can't even bring themselves to type in the web address for the online application site.
I'm terrified.
The program I've discovered, just a few miles away, is perfect. Reading the course catalogue makes me want to cry with joy. It's description of its program is:
This approach links neuroscience and cognitive science to the development of interventions for individuals at risk for atypical growth, development, and learning. Interventions are viewed as multi-layered and include evidence-based actions targeted at the development of the individual child, the family and school system and at social policy.
neuroscience and cognitive science to the development of interventions for individuals... I want to have that knowledge. I want to do that reading, sit in those classes, study those facts. I want to know more about the science behind the children I work with. I want the knowledge.
I cried when I saw that one credit at this university (the most expensive undergrad in the country), one credit is 1,400. I can't even take a class to see if I want to go there- 3 credits is a budget for a vacation overseas.
SO, I've told myself I'll apply, see what happens. They have a lot of scholarships. Maybe I'll get a scholarship. Or something. Maybe we'll win the lottery. Maybe they'll suddenly pay teachers a million dollars.
So I've decided to do it. Try it. And so I come to the essay. The part where I'm suppose to write about why I want to go to their school. Why I want to be a leader in the field.
And the screen is blank.
Because what do I say?
To Whom it May Concern:
I am a big dork and I really just like learning. I want to have your knowledge, but I don't want to be a leader in the field. I want to keep the very job I have now. I love my job. I love the kids. I work at the think-tank for kids I adore. I just want to be better at my job. I want to sit in your classes, write papers for you, and soak up knowledge so I can understand kids even better than I do now. Please give me lots of money so I can do that while still keeping my current, fabulous job. I will not bring fame to your program. I will not change the way people in the field approach education. But I will use what you teach me to change the lives of children and I will do that every day, in a public school, for the children who need it most. Thank you, Mrs. Lipstick
Somehow I don't think that will cut it.
But it is the truth. I love my job. I don't want to over-educate myself out of a job I love. Sure down the line (a long time from now) I think I'd enjoy being a professor. But one at night school so I can still work with children during the day. I know that when I go too long without teaching I start to get depressed and anxious, as though I am not a complete person. But I also love learning about being a better teacher. And yes, I could do as many professional development workshops as I can handle, but that's not the same. I want to dive into knowledge. I want to understand more about the brain. I want to understand the neuroscience and cognitive science behind special education.
And if I finally get this written, get recommendations, do all the various paperwork that goes along with the application- what happens next?
if I get in?
Do I have to make the decision for us to be poor for awhile just because being in classes is a fun hobby for me?
Do I decide to balance work, school, and family for another few years?
Do I decide not to- choosing family and money over my dying curiosity about neuroscience and special education? Where am I then? Will I be ok with my decision?
And so, I am obviously blogging about this as a way, once again, to push off getting the work done. Funny how that works out. Maybe I should check facebook one more time... who knows what's happened in those last 20 minutes...
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
task analysis, scissors, and rock stars
Task analysis was something that was taught to us over and over again in grad school. It's simply breaking down larger tasks into smaller pieces to make them teachable and achievable. This sounds like what all teachers do every day, but it generally refers to more specific tasks like how to use a microwave or how to brush your teeth. (During the summer of '08 when I regrettably took 3 grad classes, all 3 classes made us do the same activity- compose a task analysis on teeth brushing. i believe one class came up with 21 steps)
In a lot of ways it's something you'd use working with students with intellectual and developmental disabilities, but it comes in handy with students with autism since they tend to be very literal- it reminds me to teach each step and make no assumptions. And, with kindergartners you never know when you're going to break down the most basic tasks.
The other day splatypus and I were tag-teaming it with one of our little friends. (I LOVE co-teaching because it means one teacher can work with a student for awhile and just when the teacher thinks she's reached the end of her patience and she is about to run out the door and never return to teaching she can look at the co-teacher and say, "your turn" and the other teacher can magically swoop in, full of energy and not yet grinding her teeth. This saves a lot in dental bills and advil, and rescues our students from our frustrated outbursts of "how many times do I have to tell you?" My partner-in-crime and I have this down to a science. All it takes is making eye contact across the room and we know when to switch.)
Back to our little friend who was having trouble using scissors. It's very possible she never saw a pair of scissors before she walked into the classroom in the beginning of August. So, we were taking turns slowly showing her how to hold the scissors and cut. A lot of times children just learn from watching others use scissors and copying what they see, and occasionally children may need to have certain steps demonstrated or corrected. This little friend required a bit more.
Take a moment and try to list each step you'd need to include when teaching someone to use scissors.....
I have-
-Pick up the scissors
-Turn them so the blade points away from you and the handles are straight up and down with the larger of the two holes at the top
-Put your thumb in the hole on the top
-Put your fingers (at this point I didn't really care which fingers) into the hole on the bottom
-Stretch your fingers away from your thumb to "open" the scissors
-Pick up the piece of paper you want to cut with your other hand
-Put that piece of paper between the blades of the scissors
-Bring your fingers and thumb together to "close" the scissors
-Repeat the opening and closing of the scissors while moving the scissors slowly away from you, a little further on the paper each time
-Stop and check- is it cutting the paper? If not, check if you are holding the scissors up and down and if you are remembering to open and close the scissors each time
-When you have finished cutting the paper STOP opening and closing the scissors
-Put the scissors on the table
-Take your fingers out of the holes
Give you a headache?
Now, try to do all that in Spanish.
Now, try to do all that in Spanish with other kindergartners arguing over the correct pronunciation of abrir and cerrar so you have to stop and explain to them that people from El Salvador and people from Bolivia may say their words a little bit differently, but it's all still Spanish.
It was at that moment that I sat back and thought, wow, splatypus and I, and all teachers really, are just amazing. The things we can do- all at one time, with no planning, in different languages. We rock.
In a lot of ways it's something you'd use working with students with intellectual and developmental disabilities, but it comes in handy with students with autism since they tend to be very literal- it reminds me to teach each step and make no assumptions. And, with kindergartners you never know when you're going to break down the most basic tasks.
The other day splatypus and I were tag-teaming it with one of our little friends. (I LOVE co-teaching because it means one teacher can work with a student for awhile and just when the teacher thinks she's reached the end of her patience and she is about to run out the door and never return to teaching she can look at the co-teacher and say, "your turn" and the other teacher can magically swoop in, full of energy and not yet grinding her teeth. This saves a lot in dental bills and advil, and rescues our students from our frustrated outbursts of "how many times do I have to tell you?" My partner-in-crime and I have this down to a science. All it takes is making eye contact across the room and we know when to switch.)
Back to our little friend who was having trouble using scissors. It's very possible she never saw a pair of scissors before she walked into the classroom in the beginning of August. So, we were taking turns slowly showing her how to hold the scissors and cut. A lot of times children just learn from watching others use scissors and copying what they see, and occasionally children may need to have certain steps demonstrated or corrected. This little friend required a bit more.
Take a moment and try to list each step you'd need to include when teaching someone to use scissors.....
I have-
-Pick up the scissors
-Turn them so the blade points away from you and the handles are straight up and down with the larger of the two holes at the top
-Put your thumb in the hole on the top
-Put your fingers (at this point I didn't really care which fingers) into the hole on the bottom
-Stretch your fingers away from your thumb to "open" the scissors
-Pick up the piece of paper you want to cut with your other hand
-Put that piece of paper between the blades of the scissors
-Bring your fingers and thumb together to "close" the scissors
-Repeat the opening and closing of the scissors while moving the scissors slowly away from you, a little further on the paper each time
-Stop and check- is it cutting the paper? If not, check if you are holding the scissors up and down and if you are remembering to open and close the scissors each time
-When you have finished cutting the paper STOP opening and closing the scissors
-Put the scissors on the table
-Take your fingers out of the holes
Give you a headache?
Now, try to do all that in Spanish.
Now, try to do all that in Spanish with other kindergartners arguing over the correct pronunciation of abrir and cerrar so you have to stop and explain to them that people from El Salvador and people from Bolivia may say their words a little bit differently, but it's all still Spanish.
It was at that moment that I sat back and thought, wow, splatypus and I, and all teachers really, are just amazing. The things we can do- all at one time, with no planning, in different languages. We rock.
Thursday, July 16, 2009
the current debate inside my brain
I'm completely finished with my masters program! I found out last week that I passed comps, so as soon as my university puts the paperwork in I am officially finished :)
And yet... I've found myself exploring different programs, looking for what's next. Because deep down, I love taking classes and I love learning new ideas that change the way I look at my teaching.
I'm not sure I want to teach without taking classes, but I also know that I don't want to take classes without teaching. I love my job too much. So, this post is really me just writing out pros and cons that are floating in my head. I don't necessarily recommend reading it unless you are really bored, because, I feel, it's a bit painful.
I found my dream phd program a few months ago, and haven't been able to let the idea of a phd go. The program is at a nearby private university, and is a special education phd program, but puts an emphasis on neuroscience. Reading the course requirements makes me giddy (I know, I am a huge dork). The brain and early development. The brain and learning disabilities. The brain and attachment. I want to soak up that knowledge. I NEED to soak up that knowledge.
Then I saw how much the university courses cost. $1,450 per credit hour. CREDIT HOUR. Two of my masters classes = 1 CREDIT HOUR. I cried. I can't even take the intro class for fun to see if I'd like it.
So I kept looking at other phd programs. I can't continue at the same university I did my masters because the phd program is only at their main campus, two hours away. My advisor tried to talk me into it- saying I just rent an apartment there, take Tuesday/Thursday classes and live in the two towns while I'm working on it. This is what she did. I didn't want to tell her, but that does not sound like fun. I really like my husband. I don't want to be away from him three days a week. This time-before-babies is fun- I don't want to waste our young years driving back and forth to another town.
Plus, I love my job. I'm not sure I can give up my job to do a phd full time.
There is another university here and my neighbor is actually working on her phd in education there. We go for long walks so I can soak up what she's studying. So it's a possibility. But the required courses don't make me cry with joy like my dream program. But I'd finish with a phd, I could teach full time, and I could live at home without robbing a bank. All good things.
Then I found two different programs that offer the courses my dream program offers. One is a year long masters program at Harvard on the brain and learning, and the other is a 15 credit certificate course on the brain and learning at another slightly-nearby university. So I'd get the learning and the knowledge I am craving. One would involve living in Cambridge for a year, which I'm not sure Mr. Lipstick and I want to do. My husband is a southern boy and has honestly been complaining that the summer here isn't hot enough. The other is a possibility, but while it would quench my thirst for neurology-education, it would be spending a lot of money on quenching that thirst, and not enabling me to do anything I can't already do, like one day, down the line, teaching college courses in education.
So, do I want the knowledge (yes) and the enjoyment of taking classes because I love taking classes? (yes, I am a dork)
What if that means spending a lot of money on a program that is just "for fun" while it is taking funds away from a future phd program?
Do I want to start a phd program that will give me knowledge (but not the knowledge I really want to geek out over) that will one day make it possible for me to do something outside the classroom, or in combination with teaching?
I love teaching and don't see myself ever wanting to do something else. I want knowledge that will make me a better teacher- better at doing exactly what I'm hired to do now. I'd love to be able to pick up extra income, one day down the line, teaching night courses, or perhaps take a year or two off to do research- but ultimately I want more education to make me better at my job. Is that worth spending all of this money?
Welcome inside my head. It hurts, I know, going round and round like this. Luckily we go back to school on the 27th and I wont have time to sit around all day by the pool thinking about the pros and cons of my future education.
And yet... I've found myself exploring different programs, looking for what's next. Because deep down, I love taking classes and I love learning new ideas that change the way I look at my teaching.
I'm not sure I want to teach without taking classes, but I also know that I don't want to take classes without teaching. I love my job too much. So, this post is really me just writing out pros and cons that are floating in my head. I don't necessarily recommend reading it unless you are really bored, because, I feel, it's a bit painful.
I found my dream phd program a few months ago, and haven't been able to let the idea of a phd go. The program is at a nearby private university, and is a special education phd program, but puts an emphasis on neuroscience. Reading the course requirements makes me giddy (I know, I am a huge dork). The brain and early development. The brain and learning disabilities. The brain and attachment. I want to soak up that knowledge. I NEED to soak up that knowledge.
Then I saw how much the university courses cost. $1,450 per credit hour. CREDIT HOUR. Two of my masters classes = 1 CREDIT HOUR. I cried. I can't even take the intro class for fun to see if I'd like it.
So I kept looking at other phd programs. I can't continue at the same university I did my masters because the phd program is only at their main campus, two hours away. My advisor tried to talk me into it- saying I just rent an apartment there, take Tuesday/Thursday classes and live in the two towns while I'm working on it. This is what she did. I didn't want to tell her, but that does not sound like fun. I really like my husband. I don't want to be away from him three days a week. This time-before-babies is fun- I don't want to waste our young years driving back and forth to another town.
Plus, I love my job. I'm not sure I can give up my job to do a phd full time.
There is another university here and my neighbor is actually working on her phd in education there. We go for long walks so I can soak up what she's studying. So it's a possibility. But the required courses don't make me cry with joy like my dream program. But I'd finish with a phd, I could teach full time, and I could live at home without robbing a bank. All good things.
Then I found two different programs that offer the courses my dream program offers. One is a year long masters program at Harvard on the brain and learning, and the other is a 15 credit certificate course on the brain and learning at another slightly-nearby university. So I'd get the learning and the knowledge I am craving. One would involve living in Cambridge for a year, which I'm not sure Mr. Lipstick and I want to do. My husband is a southern boy and has honestly been complaining that the summer here isn't hot enough. The other is a possibility, but while it would quench my thirst for neurology-education, it would be spending a lot of money on quenching that thirst, and not enabling me to do anything I can't already do, like one day, down the line, teaching college courses in education.
So, do I want the knowledge (yes) and the enjoyment of taking classes because I love taking classes? (yes, I am a dork)
What if that means spending a lot of money on a program that is just "for fun" while it is taking funds away from a future phd program?
Do I want to start a phd program that will give me knowledge (but not the knowledge I really want to geek out over) that will one day make it possible for me to do something outside the classroom, or in combination with teaching?
I love teaching and don't see myself ever wanting to do something else. I want knowledge that will make me a better teacher- better at doing exactly what I'm hired to do now. I'd love to be able to pick up extra income, one day down the line, teaching night courses, or perhaps take a year or two off to do research- but ultimately I want more education to make me better at my job. Is that worth spending all of this money?
Welcome inside my head. It hurts, I know, going round and round like this. Luckily we go back to school on the 27th and I wont have time to sit around all day by the pool thinking about the pros and cons of my future education.
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
checking our own emotions
in my graduate class on working with students with emotional disabilities we focused a lot on ourselves. of course, in a roomful of adults, we acted like this was the stupidest thing ever. why? we complained. we don't need therapy. we don't need emotional counseling. can't we just focus on how to help the kids?
but as my professor explained time and time again, an important aspect of working with children with emotional disabilities is being able to fully control your own emotions. children with ed are experts, he explained, at getting under your skin. they have the ability to project their own emotions onto you. they're not feeling worthy? they'll make you feel unworthy. they want control? they'll make you want control.
if you are able to approach these children calmly and without being pulled into their emotional trap you're far more likely to be successful with them.
this has become my mantra, and i have to say it to myself frequently when i am in the midst of a melting down tiny child who i could easily pick up and say "listen, i'm bigger, smarter, and i am the boss. if i said do it, then do it!" but that of course, plays right into their game. and so, instead, i feel like an idiot as i calmly say "i'm sorry you feel that way" as a child screams he hates me and throws things at my head.
my research for my final paper for grad school came out of this concept. perhaps wanting to know for sure if keeping your own emotions in check was really important, i dove into articles about teacher emotions and student behavior. and yes, my professor had been correct, the research shows that our own emotions dictate how we'll react to a situation. and when we feel threatened, even when it is by a tiny 5 year old, we're much more likely to make the situation worse. one study showed that the majority of the time when teachers are physically hurt by students it is because the teacher interfered with the child's conflict cycle instead of letting him cycle through his own emotions.
today as a five year old kicked the door as hard as she could, i could feel my lungs closing up, my muscles tightening, my head about to explode. i had to channel far back into my memories of hiking the swiss alps to get myself ready to work with her. deep breaths.
after i left her room i went to work with my bff but i could feel that i still hadn't recovered. i'm sure i looked fine on the outside, but as i worked with my bff i could tell he was picking up on my stressed mood. his eyes began darting around quickly, his movements became sudden and jerky, and his attention was fleeting. i could almost see myself giving him my stress.
i know i'm stressed this week with my special ed paperwork, my list of meetings, the students i have to get ready for end of year testing, and all the responsibilities i feel i am falling behind on. the rain, the student behavior, the threat of swine flu... it's all snow-balling inside of me. but i'm going to have to let it go. because if i'm honest with myself, the little girl threw her screaming, kicking tantrum after i reacted too quickly to a problem with an unreasonable solution.
but as my professor explained time and time again, an important aspect of working with children with emotional disabilities is being able to fully control your own emotions. children with ed are experts, he explained, at getting under your skin. they have the ability to project their own emotions onto you. they're not feeling worthy? they'll make you feel unworthy. they want control? they'll make you want control.
if you are able to approach these children calmly and without being pulled into their emotional trap you're far more likely to be successful with them.
this has become my mantra, and i have to say it to myself frequently when i am in the midst of a melting down tiny child who i could easily pick up and say "listen, i'm bigger, smarter, and i am the boss. if i said do it, then do it!" but that of course, plays right into their game. and so, instead, i feel like an idiot as i calmly say "i'm sorry you feel that way" as a child screams he hates me and throws things at my head.
my research for my final paper for grad school came out of this concept. perhaps wanting to know for sure if keeping your own emotions in check was really important, i dove into articles about teacher emotions and student behavior. and yes, my professor had been correct, the research shows that our own emotions dictate how we'll react to a situation. and when we feel threatened, even when it is by a tiny 5 year old, we're much more likely to make the situation worse. one study showed that the majority of the time when teachers are physically hurt by students it is because the teacher interfered with the child's conflict cycle instead of letting him cycle through his own emotions.
today as a five year old kicked the door as hard as she could, i could feel my lungs closing up, my muscles tightening, my head about to explode. i had to channel far back into my memories of hiking the swiss alps to get myself ready to work with her. deep breaths.
after i left her room i went to work with my bff but i could feel that i still hadn't recovered. i'm sure i looked fine on the outside, but as i worked with my bff i could tell he was picking up on my stressed mood. his eyes began darting around quickly, his movements became sudden and jerky, and his attention was fleeting. i could almost see myself giving him my stress.
i know i'm stressed this week with my special ed paperwork, my list of meetings, the students i have to get ready for end of year testing, and all the responsibilities i feel i am falling behind on. the rain, the student behavior, the threat of swine flu... it's all snow-balling inside of me. but i'm going to have to let it go. because if i'm honest with myself, the little girl threw her screaming, kicking tantrum after i reacted too quickly to a problem with an unreasonable solution.
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