Entry #13 - Nov. 30, 1998
"When Jaime was in sixth grade last year, I worked with a group
from his class, and we identified him as needing more support. A super kid,
very responsible and conscientious, he has some real learning problems,
but his progress has been heartening. However, last spring's report card
interview is one that will haunt me for a long time."
A short week, but a merry one! Friday was devoted to parent interviews (as
were Wednesday and Thursday evenings -- our Thanksgiving was in October),
so it wasn't really a shorter week, it just felt that way.
Interviews are always an eye-opening experience. Frequently you learn things
from personal conversation with parents that you would never have found
out from the child, or even from a telephone call: family crises, traumatic
events, health concerns and much more. Perhaps I'm a better than average
listener, but I really enjoy these meetings (well, usually !) and am sorry
we have to be so constrained by the interview schedule.
Most of my students' parents came, although there were two no-shows -- people
who made an appointment, and just didn't appear (or call). These were both
parents of floundering students, and one can't help reflecting that lack
of home support is a big part of their problem. But on the whole, the interviews
went well. I was particularly pleased about one that I had been dreading.
When Jaime was in sixth grade last year, I worked with a group from his
class, and we identified him as needing more support. A super kid, very
responsible and conscientious, he has some real learning problems, but his
progress has been heartening. However, last spring's report card interview
is one that will haunt me for a long time. Jaime's sixth-grade teacher,
an unflappable and congenial veteran who took everything in stride, saw
me passing in the hall and hissed, in a tone nearing panic, "For God's
sake get in here! " I came into a conference room, where Jaime, his
mother, and an interpreter were seated. The mother looked grim as death,
arms folded across her chest, scowling ominously, while her normally sunny-tempered
boy gasped and sobbed in near-hysteria. Standing behind her, Jaime's teacher
made wild gestures at me and clearly implored, "Help!"
I knew there was nothing very negative on the report card (although the
grades were low) -- everyone at the school admired Jaime, not only for his
affable personality and diligence, but his compassion and consideration
of others, especially younger students and newcomers. Nevertheless, "Mom"
had clearly divined that the report card was "bad." I pulled out
all the stops emphasizing the positive, congratulating her on having raised
a son who had so clearly internalized high ideals and was a model citizen,
etc.., reiterating that he was hardworking, conscientious, and a credit
to his family
It was so frustrating talking through an interpreter, because I couldn't
tell if my message was getting through. It did not appear to be. Not at
all mollified, the woman listened without comment, and soon left, forcibly
dragging her screaming, sobbing child. Neighbors told me later he was soundly
beaten for his "failure."
Imagine my trepidation as interview time approached this year. Although
I hoped for a better outcome, if only because the new report cards allowed
me to give him grades based on his IEP goals rather than the Grade 7 expectations.
So his marks were good. Would his parent understand that they were not at
grade level? I didn't know but decided not to elaborate more than necessary.
Interestingly, she was very curious about the IEP and wanted all 7 pages
explained in some detail: goals about paragraph writing, research skills,
transformational geometry, and much more. Thankfully she didn't ASK about
"grade level," and I decided discretion was the better part of
valor in this instance!
Jaime's other teachers and I waxed eloquent praising his class participation,
work habits and so forth. Another teacher (more "maternal" than
me!) saluted "Mom" on doing such a good job raising her son. She
smiled!! Jaime slid under the table in embarrassment, but HE SMILED TOO!
I gave a massive sigh of relief. We ended on a positive note with Mom planning
to help Jaime with his number facts (times tables are still an issue), and
plans to get him to practice (in school) reading some first-rate picture
storybooks that he can take home and read to his baby sister.
Other interviews were less dramatic but just as productive. My Grade 8 students
and their parents are very concerned about the implications of the proposed
new secondary school program, and none of us have any reliable information
on how we can expect the schools to deal with special-needs kids next year,
or how they are supposed to choose "streams" with little guidance.
I have a meeting next week with some education authority officials to learn
more about the implementation details, and I'm crossing my fingers. I hope
that input from the grassroots can still lead to changes that will benefit
the kids, and that the new regimen is not as exclusionary as it appears.
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