Up until now, I have held the hands (rotorblades?) of helicopter parents, and spent way too much energy soothing their anxieties, when theirs were the children who were going to be going to the best schools, have all their needs met, and have every type of enrichment that one could imagine. I want to have relationship with the students and families who are not the privileged ones, where I can encourage them, help them uncover the writer, the artist, the reader, the mathematician that resides in each of us.

Now that I am in a school serving the less privileged, I find the school’s focus on behavior–sitting straight, eyes up front–the joy of learning is less evident. My master teacher works very hard to smile, to encourage, to sing, to nurture; she also is painfully aware of how much time she spends on discipline, warnings, consequences. And I swallow my questions, such as–why are the kids who are having the most trouble sitting still the ones who are on the bench at recess? Lots of questions like this pop up, mostly having to do with the culture of schools rather than the techniques of the individual teachers. I spent an hour in a music class and an hour in an art class today (with specialists,) which were so tightly controlled that the children were chewing on their clothing and on the verge of tears through most of it. (But damn, they behaved!)

I am also taking the positive of what I see, and trying to commit little tricks to memory. I enjoy many aspects of the classroom, and am aware (and happy) that I am not the One in Charge; I get to watch, and handpick the kids who need help, and let Ms. M. take care of the Big Picture. I would never venture to say that I could do a better job than she is doing. She is amazing.

Please read “living up to your potential is bs.” As a parent and an aspiring special education teacher, this was a breath of fresh air and a big relief to me. She does sing the praises of social skills, not my area of expertise. But “kindness”–its a skill to take into the classroom, the office, onto the freeway, and home again.

I really really want a mojito to celebrate…one quarter down, five to go!

Mi familia: Gabe, Joel and Skye

I tucked this information into my mental notebook. The rest of the questions, Mary simply told me “You’ll know when you meet him.” She had a difficult time describing Sam’s emotional world, only that it was topsy turvy at times and it was our job to keep a safe, consistent routine for him with lots and lots of positive feedback. Okaaay, that was easy since that was my entire job description in the world of Early Childhood Education. 

But this was First Grade! How would I be able to keep Sam motivated to learn to read and write and keep up with the demands of the classroom? I met with Marti, the wonderful first grade teacher. We hit it off right away. It was almost scary how much our temperaments, our outlook, our ideas were alike. “We’ll just play it by ear,” she told me. And that was pretty much our mantra for the year. Little did I know that this was the attitude that was necessary for educating Sam. The best-laid plans might go kablooey, but going with the flow and taking advantage of small teachable moments–lots of improvisation, experimentation, and keeping it light–were just what Sam needed. 

Craigslist had a posting for a shadow aide for a child with Prader-Willi Syndrome at a small independent school near downtown Berkeley. Quickly, I googled PWS; it was not a pretty picture. A defect of the 15th chromosome causes, among other things, constant hunger, food-seeking behavior, and behavior problems, including tantrums. This was right up my alley. 

The school was my favorite independent school in the world, a small 60 year old progressive constructivist elementary school, where I had taught in the after school program many years ago. Some of the teachers were friends of mine; I admired all of them and could not wait to be given the chance to jump into their classrooms and learn. 

I fell in love with the family who had placed the ad, and I fell in love with their kid. I now had a mentor teacher in a classroom of twenty students. The school values diversity, and is generous with scholarships. I was in the perfect place to learn. 

The only disturbing trend was (and maybe because this was an outdoor show) how many (mostly young) people just talked during the music, just jabbered away without any consideration that other people were there to hear the music. There were even people who were yakking on their cell phones during the performance. That just made me crazy. I was there to pay tribute to one of my gods, and these people just didn’t get it…