The other side

Individualized Education Plan or IEP was not an unfamiliar term for me when my cooperating teacher asked me if I wanted to join her for one of her student’s IEP meetings. However, being on the educator side was definitely new for me. My brother who has an intellectual disability was often know as one of the first students to start attending and presenting at his own IEP meetings, along with baking his famous “IEP brownies,” when he was in middle and high school. My mom has written and spoken widely about being the “parent” at these meetings—often saying that it wasn’t that she really wanted to be mean to teachers (often she was the “hated parent”), it was that she was terribly afraid and worried about what the meeting would mean for her son and his future.

When I sat down at this meeting, I was carrying a lot with me. I was constantly assessing the situation for all of those in the room: the parent, the various therapists, the coordinator, and the special education and the general education teachers. I was troubled by the lack of input the general educator was able to contribute (or asked to contribute especially because the child is with this teacher 90% of the time) and the strong emphasis on following a medicalized prescribed pattern, instead of more relaxed and warm atmosphere. The meeting started by announcing what we were there to attend: The meeting of child X to discuss her X disability. It seemed so formal. The range of emotions that the parents must have been experiencing seemed irrelevant. It just felt so nervous. Most progress was only recorded or deemed acceptable evidence by any formal testing (district assessments, etc.) that had been done, as opposed to observations or other forms of evaluation.

I appreciated how, during a few instances, one of the educators or therapists would try to make a more personalized connection with the parent—remarking how she sends her kids to the same doctor as the mother. I understand that IEP meetings can be helpful for informing the parent and the child’s support team on the child’s progress and the necessary areas for improvement or more support. It was useful for me—just getting to know this child—how to be helpful, what sorts of verbal cues are useful for her, and what areas I should watch out for that may trigger a certain reaction in her. But I wonder what are the other ways that IEP meetings can be held...how could educators make parents and caregivers feel supported and safe? How should disability be talked about so that families and educators learn how students with disabilities learn to see themselves and their disability as not a deficiency, but a source of pride, an identity with a deep history and culture? How do families and educators hold multiple feelings during these meetings: fear for what's next, excitement and pride of accomplishments...? How do we hold the accomplishments as not "overcoming" or "hero"-like but challenges that student faced and grew from? How does the support circle for the child with the disability create a child that can eventually advocate for him or herself? What would this look like? How would this work? What changes should we all be making?

As my kindergarten placement came to an end, I felt as if I gained some concrete skills that will be useful when I return from break to start the next placement (in a multi-grade, 1st to 3rd grade classroom). I know the pattern that is helpful for me in learning how to run the classroom—observe—try it—observe again—try again. I found this most useful in concentrating the second time on picking up some of the more subtle transitions or key wording that I didn’t observe or do the first time. I am becoming more comfortable finding what I like about the Montessori method and what structures or activities I would want to modify. I am recognizing the importance of stopping, even in the middle of chaos or during a lesson, to assess what is happening and what is most important to convey at this moment. (For example, when I was transitioning the kids from lunch to their read aloud one day, instead of lecturing to them on how they entered the classroom in a disruptive manner; I decided to just start reading the book. They immediately sat down and became fully immersed in the story.--this was such a good lesson for me to learn!) I am feeling more comfortable using a teacher presence that balances both a firm and respectful tone.

Loving Each Child

I was getting pulled into the disciplinarian role. It seemed like I spent most of my day reminding kids to “show me what you should be doing,” and constantly monitoring their behavior. The teachers who I work with also spend a great deal of their energy on monitoring students’ behavior. But when I reflect on what kind of teacher I want to be—rarely does the image of me correcting a child’s behavior appear (especially when working with three to five year olds—who I fundamentally believe should not be disciplined for moving their bodies. Bodies moving at five years old seem very age appropriate and necessary!). There is a balance I must find during student teacher of respecting the routine and expectations in the classroom where I am working and the values that I hold.

After attending the education seminar on Tuesday, I was reminded to find “what is lovable in each child.” I was forced to reflect on the past two weeks of student teaching and quickly come to the realization that I had forgotten to give positive encouragement and affirmations to each child. When children would come up to show me work they have completed (looking for my, “Okay, you can put this away and start your next work”), I would first jump to the mistakes on their work.

I went into my student teaching the next day with a commitment to giving affirmations and connecting in more positive ways with each child. I really do want to love, respect, and admire the children who I work with everyday. When children showed me their work, I made sure to find something that was wonderful and tell them this, before I asked them to double check their work. When a student struggled with her reading, I made a more conscious effort to congratulate her on her reading progress, before focusing on isolating the first sound in the difficult word (and then giving her praise after she finished reading the tricky word). The emphasis on affirming positive behaviors in each child was extraordinary. It seemed as if the teachers became happier and more excited and supportive of their students. The drive home after school became less frustrating and more upbeat. I saw more kids laugh with me (it's so much fun to laugh with kids!) and they smiled to one another more frequently. Maybe all of this was already happening and now I was just open to seeing it. Or maybe an emphasis on affirmations made everyone feel more welcomed in the classroom. Maybe both.