The Nether Yay-ya and a Possible Change

Welcome back to "Things I didn't really want to know about this girl."  This month's health update is brought to you by the letters G Y N. 

It's been so long since I've been to that doctor that the first thing she said upon walking into the room was, "So why haven't you been to the doctor in 20 years?"  Um.  'Cause I don't use it often and I've never rented the womb out to anyone?  'Cause I'm very very lucky to be so healthy?  'Cause I just kept putting it off?  All unacceptable answers. 

It wasn't as bad as I anticipated, of course.  She's a lovely woman and a former middle school teacher.  Although, she did tell me to get a colonoscopy due to my advanced years.  And not the talking box on television, but a real colonoscopy.  Everything looked good and she thanked me for staying in the profession.  That made me feel nice.  Like I was appreciated.  

Yeah.  About that. 

This is my classroom by the numbers:

9 students, 3 grade levels, 7 push-in rooms, 2 languages, 4 disability classifications, 6 curriculums, 5 behavior charts, 28 IEP goals.  (Edited to add: 11 students, 33 IEP goals)

This isn't to brag or toot any horns.  This is to show you what goes on in classrooms across the country.  This is only part of the reason why teachers are burnt out and leaving.  Throw in challenging behaviors, minimal support from home, district admin/DOE not having an idea what actually goes on in classrooms...I could go on.  It's a recipe for therapy.  

I have much to think about.  Do I want to keep doing this to myself?  Do I want to put up with all the negative for very little positive?  I thought I was doing this for the rest of my working days.  Now I'm not sure.  The catalyst for this change of heart, the straw that broke this camel's back, was a meeting on Friday that I still can't let go of.  I'm still irritated.  I still get upset when I think about it or talk about it. 

That Student, for those who follow along on the Facebook, is quite a struggling learner.  I am supplementing his fourth-grade math with 1st-grade math. He is unable to do this work independently. I asked him last week to solve 0-0.  He told me it's 5.  In an effort to make his life easier, I requested we apply for modified curriculum and alternative assessments during this year's IEP meeting.

In order for this to happen, you have to meet certain criteria.  He meets the criteria of a cognitive struggle, but because he's socially competent and can take care of his basic needs, he does not qualify. 

The child who asked me if we were playing bingo, WHILE WE WERE PLAYING BINGO, the child who asked how to hold up 14 fingers, the child who can not solve 1st grade math problems as a 4th grader, does not qualify for modified curriculum, because a piece of paper said so.  A checklist, a piece of paper, knows more about what my kid needs than I do. Some random person, who probably hasn't been in the classroom in years (if ever) created a checklist that knows more about my kid than I do.  

To add insult to injury, That Student's mom, who was at home Zooming in to this meeting, was watching TV throughout the meeting.  We were discussing the possibility of her child not pursuing the diploma track and she was watching TV.  

Why am I even here?  Why am I even doing this?  Clearly they should be paying the checklist my salary, and if I have no concern/interest from the parent, what's the point...............I want to scream.

I'm tired. I don't want to struggle for other people's kids anymore.  I'm tired of doing all the work.  I'm tired of the parent apathy.  I'm sick of the higher-ups being more concerned about math posters and pacing than the well-being of the students. I'm tired of being selfless and "doing it for the kids."  I'm tired of advocating for my kids and getting no results.  I'm sick to death of challenging behaviors occurring daily and no real consequences being leveled.  We are setting some of these kids up for failure and nobody seems to see it.  

I did some exploring on Indeed last night and there are several options in the areas I'm interested.  Of course I need to finish out the school year so that gives me time to weigh things out and decide what I truly want to do.  I did briefly consider Starbucks barista and Wawa employee, but I'd eventually weigh 400 lbs. and spend my salary on product.

So much to think about. Any and all opinions are welcome. This is not a decision I will take lightly.

Anyway...my gynecological tests came back negative for all things icky. Shout out to my parents for giving me such healthy DNA.  

Dear Parents

Typically, when I say "Dear Parents" it's followed by some complaint in an exasperated tone. Dear Parents: Stop sending your kids to school with a fever.  Dear Parents: It is not the first day of school. Learn the car line procedures. Dear Parents: Scream 2 is not appropriate for your 1st grader.

Today, my "Dear Parents" is a question.  It's something that as a cat mom I don't comprehend.

Dear Parents: How do you watch your kids struggle with something that you can't help them with?  How do you do it?  Knowing that you've done all you can, but obstacles to helping them stand in your way, how do you let go and hope for the best? 

I have two students with several mental health needs. Because I can't get into specifics, I'll just say that there are many barriers preventing me from doing everything I can to help them.  It's so damn frustrating!  I know it's not my job to fix them, but at the same time, it's my job to fix them. 

I just want to scream and yell at these obstacles, "Do this!" and "Stop doing that!" Since I am unable to do this, I do what I can to make it better.  It's never enough.  I can't do enough to change things and make it better.  It's driving me insane.

My classroom checks off all of the "required elements" of a behavior support classroom (or any classroom, TBH).  I've done all the things teachers are told to do by those super-educators.  I have positive relationships with the kids, token economies, praise, structure, routines, and communication.  The problem is, my room has become an emotional support classroom.

I spent a few hours last night reading articles about how to successfully maintain a trauma-informed classroom.  I need to know how to help my kids heal, and manage their difficulties.  I need to step up for them.  I HIGHLY recommend taking a look at Edutopia.com under the Mental Health topic section.  The website is run by the George Lucas Educational Foundation, so it gets extra nerd points from me. 

Today I went in with a new attitude, ready to make things better.  Ready to fix things.  First up-rearrange the room and make a few new areas.  We have a new student starting on Monday, so I wanted to get all this new stuff going prior to his arrival.  I OBSESSED over this for a better part of the day.  I drove my poor para crazy because I wouldn't let it go.  She just shook her head and waited for me to come to my senses.  Like that's gonna happen. 

Desks were here...now they're here.  That table?  I don't like it where it is, but I don't know where to put it.  Robbed a desk from Peter to pay Paul.  Put things in bins, moved boxes, made new signs, and threw stuff away.  Then I paced the room because something's still not right, and I just can't put my finger on it.  It's not going to be right. 

I can't fix it.  I'm trying to fix or change the environment because I can't fix the problems.  I'm putting band-aids on stuff when surgery is needed.  There are things impacting our classroom that are out of my control, and I can't stand it.  

So it's goes back to my question: Knowing that you've done everything that can be done, but it's still not enough, how do you watch your kids struggle with something that you can't help them with?  

God bless you, parents, for your sleepless nights, grey hairs, wrinkles, tears, ulcers, mild alcoholism, and stress headaches.  To me, you are heroes.