"Dora is Not a Monkey"
A song without words, rhythmically hummed. "Hmm..hmm-hmm, hmm, hmm-hmm ..." A shoe lace dips and swirls like a lasso, the patterns and dips in time with the music in his mind. Peter* moves and hums, intent upon his task. The shoe lace flies, graceful and free, Peter delighting in ever twist and twirl.
He moves and hums, happy, quiet, and ignored. The teachers move, assisting students to and from the restroom. The room is bright and sunny.
I'm introduced to Mr. Smith*. He reads the note of what I need to write about for class and mentions the assisting devices they use in learning. Many he has to dig out from a crowded closet. The devices are clean. I don't think anyone has used them in awhile.
I ask about the students. He mentions that Mandy* and John* are waiting for the special education therapist, Mr. Brown*. Mandy and John are both visually impaired. Mr. Brown comes but spends minimal time with them. I ask Mr. Brown, "How are you working with John?" Before Mr. Brown came, John has sat silently, his hands touching a couple cups full of small objects. "Do you teach Braille?" I ask Mr. Brown. "Is your goal to teach John and Mandy to read?"
Mr. Brown says, "Well, John knows the Braille alphabet. For awhile, I tried to teach him to put letters together but can't seem to understand. John has echolalia you know. Hey, John."
"Hey, John." John answers.
"To top it off, he says yes to everything. He can't seem to understand. John, do you smoke cigarrettes?"
"Yes, smoke cigarrettes." John answers.
"See what I mean?" Mr. Brown answers. He looks back down at his clipboard and begins to fill out a form.
"Is there anything technology you think would be helpful? Aren't there screen readers? Maybe John and Mandy could work with them?" I ask.
"There are screen readers," Mr. Brown says. "We don't have any." He continues to fill out a form.
"What about Trey* and Jack*," I ask Mr. Smith. "Do you think other technology would help them?"
"Well, they like Ipads but we can only check them out once a week. I think if we had them to practice on more often the repetition could help them. You want to go to Mrs. White's* room? I think they have an Ipad."
As we leave, I ask, "Does Peter like the Ipads?"
"Peter?" Mr. Smith seems surprised at my question. "Peter just wants to move."
"Do you have equipment for his lessons?" I ask.
"Well, he has a trampoline. He'd be on it all the time but when he's tired, he gets angry. We hid it in the bathroom." Mr. Smith says.
"Bye, Peter," Mr. Smith says, walking around Peter as we exit the room. Peter's eyes never leave his shoelace, the lace, flying, dipping, and moving. He hums quietly. I look back. John sits still again, his hands on the cups.
They are clean and quiet. Is this the best education can offer?
I enter Mrs. White's room.
"How do you work with your students here?" I ask Mrs. White.
"First, I need to tell you, we don't use the word, 'no,'" she whispers, her face close to mine.
"OK?" I say uncertainly. She laughs.
"It's a trigger word for Josh*," she says. "There are many ways to say things. It's hard to remember at first but you get used to it. Josh hits people who say that word so, in this room, it's important to remember new ways to say things."
She says, "This is Josh's desk. We're working on schedules and communcating. See this? If Josh needs to schedule in a restroom break, he moves his velcro picture over here." She points out a sign with symbols on it. "He's really getting better at showing what he wants. Here are his cards. John loves Dora the Explorer and Boots so his speech therapist is using these cards."
She holds them up. One has Dora and Boots on it. They are holding soccer balls. Both have the number 5 on their shirts. Another card says, "What number is on Dora's shirt?"
"Where is Josh?" I say. "I'd like to meet him."
"Just a couple minutes," Mrs. White answers. "He's taking a sensory break."
She mentions how the music teacher comes to their room as that's an easier transition for her students. She shows me a puzzle Mike* has been working on. "Mike is great with puzzles!" Mrs. White says.
A closet door opens and Josh tiptoes out, holding two pencils. One is crossed over the other and he's making a jet sound.
"Josh just loves jets!" Mrs. White smiles. "You want to see the sensory room?"
I step over to the closet. "This is the stereo so he can play his music, loud if he wants to," Mrs. White explains. "Mrs. Wilson bought him the rug."
I glance at Mrs. Wilson and she says, "I thought he'd like it. It looks a lot like Boots." The monkey face rug smiles up at me.
I admire the Christmas lights strung across the ceiling. "You have pencils hanging up?" I ask, pointing to the Christmas lights.
"Well, yes," Mrs. White says. "Josh likes pencils so he likes them in his room for calm down time."
She smiles as we walk to her desk. "Did you say you are an education student?" she says. "Sometimes I don't know what they are teaching you in that college. I had a student in here the other day asking me about our reading program. What reading program? The school doesn't provide things like that. The most important thing to learn if you work in Special Ed is how to be creative. All of my kids need different things. They tell us to teach them stories and that they need to learn the difference between fiction and non-fiction.
Fiction and non-fiction? Those are not terms for my kids. So we call it True and Not True."
Mrs. White holds up laminated cards labeled True and Not True.
"But you have to write stories that fit your kids. Josh doesn't care about the Three Little Pigs or anything like that. So his stories are about Dora, of course. And he's smart, knows 'True and Not True' really well. Like, I can say, 'Dora is a monkey' and he replies 'Not true!' just as quick as a whistle!
Mike doesn't really like Dora but he does well with cooking stories. When I say, 'And then Mom puts your supper into the microwave or the fridge?' Mike answers, "Microwave!" I didn't even have to tell him once!" Mrs. White smiles, patting Mike on the arm.
She chats on about how amazing "her kids" are and her lesson plans for next week. Mike completes his puzzle and says, "All done!"
"That's great, Mike. You did it!" Mrs. Wilson exclaims. Mike beams.
"Well we need to get ready for lunchtime," Mrs. Wilson says. "Thanks for stopping by!" I hear her guiding Josh over to his schedule as I leave the room.
I quietly enter Mrs. Griffin's* room and listen as she presents a grammar lesson. Grammar hasn't changed much since I was in middle school twenty years ago. As a student, sometimes teaching sounds difficult but watching Mrs. Griffin, I realize most classroom teachers are building on knowledge and research accumulated through centuries of learning. There are many resources available for Mrs. Griffin if she wants to try something different.
But Mrs. Wilson? I think of her smiling at Josh and his lessons about Dora. I realize Mrs. Griffin is driving the bus of education that has been perfected for centuries. Teachers like Mrs. Wilson are the real heroes. She starts at the bottom. I'm sure she reads austism studies but it seems to me she is observing each individual student and building up from there. She's not sticking wheels on a lesson and rolling it to Josh. If she thinks he needs it, she's building wheels just for Josh before she puts her plans together. His lessons may be vehicles never seen before but that is what works for him.
I listen to Mrs. Griffin teach and take notes. While her students take a grammar test, I hear a quiet humming pass the door. Peter and his class are headed to the lunchroom.
Peter passes, twirling his shoe lace, his gentle humming fading as he walks away.
What will Peter learn this year?
We still need new minds in education. Round wheeled-lessons work for many of us but there is Peter, there is John, there is Mandy. They are getting older and they aren't in Mrs. Wilson's room. Will Mandy ever get what she needs to communicate with the world?
When Congress stands and votes on education and learning, does anyone think of Peter?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
NOTE: *All names have been changed.
He moves and hums, happy, quiet, and ignored. The teachers move, assisting students to and from the restroom. The room is bright and sunny.
I'm introduced to Mr. Smith*. He reads the note of what I need to write about for class and mentions the assisting devices they use in learning. Many he has to dig out from a crowded closet. The devices are clean. I don't think anyone has used them in awhile.
I ask about the students. He mentions that Mandy* and John* are waiting for the special education therapist, Mr. Brown*. Mandy and John are both visually impaired. Mr. Brown comes but spends minimal time with them. I ask Mr. Brown, "How are you working with John?" Before Mr. Brown came, John has sat silently, his hands touching a couple cups full of small objects. "Do you teach Braille?" I ask Mr. Brown. "Is your goal to teach John and Mandy to read?"
Mr. Brown says, "Well, John knows the Braille alphabet. For awhile, I tried to teach him to put letters together but can't seem to understand. John has echolalia you know. Hey, John."
"Hey, John." John answers.
"To top it off, he says yes to everything. He can't seem to understand. John, do you smoke cigarrettes?"
"Yes, smoke cigarrettes." John answers.
"See what I mean?" Mr. Brown answers. He looks back down at his clipboard and begins to fill out a form.
"Is there anything technology you think would be helpful? Aren't there screen readers? Maybe John and Mandy could work with them?" I ask.
"There are screen readers," Mr. Brown says. "We don't have any." He continues to fill out a form.
"What about Trey* and Jack*," I ask Mr. Smith. "Do you think other technology would help them?"
"Well, they like Ipads but we can only check them out once a week. I think if we had them to practice on more often the repetition could help them. You want to go to Mrs. White's* room? I think they have an Ipad."
As we leave, I ask, "Does Peter like the Ipads?"
"Peter?" Mr. Smith seems surprised at my question. "Peter just wants to move."
"Do you have equipment for his lessons?" I ask.
"Well, he has a trampoline. He'd be on it all the time but when he's tired, he gets angry. We hid it in the bathroom." Mr. Smith says.
"Bye, Peter," Mr. Smith says, walking around Peter as we exit the room. Peter's eyes never leave his shoelace, the lace, flying, dipping, and moving. He hums quietly. I look back. John sits still again, his hands on the cups.
They are clean and quiet. Is this the best education can offer?
I enter Mrs. White's room.
"How do you work with your students here?" I ask Mrs. White.
"First, I need to tell you, we don't use the word, 'no,'" she whispers, her face close to mine.
"OK?" I say uncertainly. She laughs.
"It's a trigger word for Josh*," she says. "There are many ways to say things. It's hard to remember at first but you get used to it. Josh hits people who say that word so, in this room, it's important to remember new ways to say things."
She says, "This is Josh's desk. We're working on schedules and communcating. See this? If Josh needs to schedule in a restroom break, he moves his velcro picture over here." She points out a sign with symbols on it. "He's really getting better at showing what he wants. Here are his cards. John loves Dora the Explorer and Boots so his speech therapist is using these cards."
She holds them up. One has Dora and Boots on it. They are holding soccer balls. Both have the number 5 on their shirts. Another card says, "What number is on Dora's shirt?"
"Where is Josh?" I say. "I'd like to meet him."
"Just a couple minutes," Mrs. White answers. "He's taking a sensory break."
She mentions how the music teacher comes to their room as that's an easier transition for her students. She shows me a puzzle Mike* has been working on. "Mike is great with puzzles!" Mrs. White says.
A closet door opens and Josh tiptoes out, holding two pencils. One is crossed over the other and he's making a jet sound.
"Josh just loves jets!" Mrs. White smiles. "You want to see the sensory room?"
I step over to the closet. "This is the stereo so he can play his music, loud if he wants to," Mrs. White explains. "Mrs. Wilson bought him the rug."
I glance at Mrs. Wilson and she says, "I thought he'd like it. It looks a lot like Boots." The monkey face rug smiles up at me.
I admire the Christmas lights strung across the ceiling. "You have pencils hanging up?" I ask, pointing to the Christmas lights.
"Well, yes," Mrs. White says. "Josh likes pencils so he likes them in his room for calm down time."
She smiles as we walk to her desk. "Did you say you are an education student?" she says. "Sometimes I don't know what they are teaching you in that college. I had a student in here the other day asking me about our reading program. What reading program? The school doesn't provide things like that. The most important thing to learn if you work in Special Ed is how to be creative. All of my kids need different things. They tell us to teach them stories and that they need to learn the difference between fiction and non-fiction.
Fiction and non-fiction? Those are not terms for my kids. So we call it True and Not True."
Mrs. White holds up laminated cards labeled True and Not True.
"But you have to write stories that fit your kids. Josh doesn't care about the Three Little Pigs or anything like that. So his stories are about Dora, of course. And he's smart, knows 'True and Not True' really well. Like, I can say, 'Dora is a monkey' and he replies 'Not true!' just as quick as a whistle!
Mike doesn't really like Dora but he does well with cooking stories. When I say, 'And then Mom puts your supper into the microwave or the fridge?' Mike answers, "Microwave!" I didn't even have to tell him once!" Mrs. White smiles, patting Mike on the arm.
She chats on about how amazing "her kids" are and her lesson plans for next week. Mike completes his puzzle and says, "All done!"
"That's great, Mike. You did it!" Mrs. Wilson exclaims. Mike beams.
"Well we need to get ready for lunchtime," Mrs. Wilson says. "Thanks for stopping by!" I hear her guiding Josh over to his schedule as I leave the room.
I quietly enter Mrs. Griffin's* room and listen as she presents a grammar lesson. Grammar hasn't changed much since I was in middle school twenty years ago. As a student, sometimes teaching sounds difficult but watching Mrs. Griffin, I realize most classroom teachers are building on knowledge and research accumulated through centuries of learning. There are many resources available for Mrs. Griffin if she wants to try something different.
But Mrs. Wilson? I think of her smiling at Josh and his lessons about Dora. I realize Mrs. Griffin is driving the bus of education that has been perfected for centuries. Teachers like Mrs. Wilson are the real heroes. She starts at the bottom. I'm sure she reads austism studies but it seems to me she is observing each individual student and building up from there. She's not sticking wheels on a lesson and rolling it to Josh. If she thinks he needs it, she's building wheels just for Josh before she puts her plans together. His lessons may be vehicles never seen before but that is what works for him.
I listen to Mrs. Griffin teach and take notes. While her students take a grammar test, I hear a quiet humming pass the door. Peter and his class are headed to the lunchroom.
Peter passes, twirling his shoe lace, his gentle humming fading as he walks away.
What will Peter learn this year?
We still need new minds in education. Round wheeled-lessons work for many of us but there is Peter, there is John, there is Mandy. They are getting older and they aren't in Mrs. Wilson's room. Will Mandy ever get what she needs to communicate with the world?
When Congress stands and votes on education and learning, does anyone think of Peter?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
NOTE: *All names have been changed.