Entry # 6: "I'm frustrated with him,
my lack of skills, and the system."
"I ain't going to that man's class!"
"I don't have to do what you say!"
"I'm not even supposed to be in this class; my momma says I'm supposed
to be in a special ed room."
He runs down the hallway, walks into the classroom in the morning stating
what he isn't going to do, and yells or runs around the room whenever he
feels like it. He designates members of the "geek club" and swears
other sixth graders are committing sex acts I hadn't even heard of until
I was in my junior year of high school. He leads the nurse on a wild goose
chase around the school, hides his medication in his cheek, and makes her
hold his nose while he swallows.
This is my homeroom student, "Brad." I feel angry about his behavior.
I'm tempted to hate him, but most of all, I'm frustrated with him, my lack
of skills, and the system.
Brad is a student who has been evaluated as learning disabled and ADHD but
who acts more like a behavior disordered student. He is reading and writing
on the second grade level, and he can't even spell his street name. In February
of last school year, his mother requested a reevaluation of his IEP and
permanent placement in a self-contained special education room. She was
successful. However, in April of the same year, the resource teacher rewrote
his IEP to place him in the regular classroom with only 450 minutes per
week of resource just two months after the IEP committee and the parent
agreed he wasn't ready for inclusion.
I am a proponent of inclusion and differentiated instruction. Our summer
school program has no special education rooms; all students are in "regular"
classes. Because of my work with those students and seeing firsthand their
abilities, I have actively pursued integrating them into the "regular
education" population. I firmly believe that too many children are
kept in self-contained special education rooms either because of lack of
training on teachers' parts or pure laziness to revise and support a new
IEP.
"I feel like his failure is my failure"
That said, Brad desperately needs to be back in a self-contained special
education room. I hate the way that looks on my screen as I type this. I
feel like his failure is my failure, that there must be something else I
could do. Yet, I am out of answers, and my bag of tricks has been empty
for weeks. I've tried moving him, conferencing with him, calling his parents,
time out in another teacher's room, ignoring him and giving him one-on-one
instruction. I have prepared materials at his level, but I have not been
able to use them because he won't sit still long enough to even look at
them. Nothing has worked; in fact, if anything, his behavior has gotten
worse.
Brad's mother's assertion is that he should be in a self-contained special
education class. She sent me the copy of the IEP that was written in February
2000, and I do not know if she knew about the change in his IEP that April.
I only found out about the second IEP this past Friday. She is either completely
oblivious to the second IEP or she is out and out lying to me. Either conclusion
is distasteful to me.
At the heart of this issue is Brad. For the past five weeks, Brad has learned
nothing. He is already behind, and he gets further behind day by day as
his behavior deteriorates and the teachers on our team give up hope. We
are going to lose him completely if something does not change soon.
No rhyme or reason for "inclusion"
In my district I have seen no rhyme or reason to who is selected for inclusion
and who is kept in the self-contained classroom. Furthermore, in our district
(at least in my experience), special education rooms are treated more like
remediation rooms where students are given lower-level work. Now, I have
only one special education class under my belt, but I had always been led
to believe that special education classes taught children strategies to
deal with their disabilities while working at or near the child's grade
level.
I feel horrible about this whole situation. I know that sending Brad back
to the special education room is condemning him to a mostly mediocre education,
but I also know that I am powerless to help him. I also feel the responsibility
to the other 22 students in my classroom who find it impossible to work
or concentrate when Brad is in residence. Why should the education of 22
be compromised for the benefit of the socialization of one? Even as I write
that I know that is a horrible attitude. Every child matters, and no child's
education should be sacrificed.
Who is to blame?
I left school on Friday in tears, sick to my stomach because of this child.
My instructional coordinator, who has seen me in action for nearly five
years, told me not to blame myself. But who is to blame?
Is it the school personnel who failed to accurately assess and meet the
needs of this child? Is it the parents, who place the responsibility of
Brad's actions on his disability? Is it the special education teachers who
treat all special education students as if they are intellectually inferior?
Is it the school district that, under pressure to move more children from
self-contained to inclusion in order to improve our chances for full accreditation,
tells special education supervisors to figure out a way to reduce the numbers?
Is it the state legislature of Missouri, who instead of investigating the
reality of our schools and students' needs embraces the latest trend to
mainstream students without regard to what is best for each child?
There are many problems in our system, and it is easy to place the blame
on everyone else. However, I cannot get rid of my own sense of failure in
this matter. I am the professional, and I have the responsibility for this
child.
Hopefully the resource teacher will finally arrive on Monday, and
we can convene the IEP committee in short time. Hopefully the politics that
have been involved with the district and the personal issues of the resource
teacher will not supersede what is best for Brad. Hopefully this child will
get the support he needs, and he will go on to live a productive, fulfilling
life.
I hope.
Read next week's entry >>>
<<< Read last week's entry
Read some background about Ellen and
her school
Comment on this week's entry
Back to Ellen's 2000-2001
Diary Index