A confession, and a hope for A
A is about to graduate from preschool tomorrow and embark on her Kindergarten experience. She is ready and excited. Her preschool teacher this year is retiring, and what a teacher she was! Ashlynn mimicked and learned SO much from her. I can’t even begin to start with all the things Ashlynn has learned. This woman set everything to a tune paired with some large gross motor movements, and the combination was pure gold for A. I hear what she has learned every night before bed, during her pretend play of being the “teacher,” and with her songs she will randomly bust out when in a good mood.
Great right?
Well, yes of course….and well no, not really. No? Why you ask? Well, I don’t believe this teacher ever really believed in A. It’s a sad and maybe terrible thing to say. I know the teacher liked her. In fact, she called her dolly. It’s just that, there was maybe only one time in all the meetings and conferences that the teacher knew what A could really do, and when I would tell her of all the amazing things Ashlynn learned, she would just smile a half smile. I thought she would be so proud. I always waited for her to tell me that, but it never came. Sigh. Oh well.
In fact, though A is well liked, there was never any teacher who exclaimed how proud they were of her. Who noticed how hard she works. Tirelessly really. Truly. She is always begging for me to do homework. She is always going over what she learned, or practicing flash cards, or hand writing. It’s really sad to me that no one sees that but me. In fact, it felt like they were against her when they were trying to force cognitive testing on me…as though giving her a number would make me see what they see, or rather, didn’t see.
I’m part of a lot of groups now for apraxia. Basically, my facebook newsfeed is apraxia news 24/7. I have friends I never would have had if not for apraxia. Some are experiencing highs, some lows, all riding the roller coaster. I have a few who are having incredible highs and I am SO happy for them. THRILLED! TRULY. At the same time, I can’t help but feel jealous, sad, but also hopeful that A will meet that right professional who will change her life, and to be honest….I really don’t want that professional to continue to be me. I really think next year we will have them. The team she is going to is MY special education team that I actually work with at my job, and ALL the professionals care about their kids, know their kids, fight for their kids. I’m pretty sure A is going to have a dream team next year, but of course, one can never be sure.
Throughout all this I keep being reminded of something I said earlier in my career. It’s been haunting me now, and I really hesitate to confess it. However, that’s never stopped me before, so here goes. I had been at the job for awhile when I was paired with an awesome SPED teacher. She was young, enthusiastic and passionate (much like me). We were both problem solvers and would talk rounds and rounds about kids and how they learn. We were going to change the world. I believed in the kids as much as her. I just knew with our help they were all going to thrive. I remember though, she would call all of her kids “smart.” At the time, I had enough experience with cognitive testing results to make me knowledgeable, but not enough experience with cognitive tests it made me dangerous. At least, that’s how I see it now. At the time though, I really felt I had this learning disability thing down. In fact, I was praised by numerous psychologists for knowing it so well, and for being a great diagnostician myself. Maybe it inflated my ego. I didn’t think so at the time, but I just could cringe now.
Okay I’m stalling. I’ll just say it.
After one IEP meeting for a kid who had come out below 80 on cognitive testing, I had a conversation with this SPED teacher that went something like this:
Me: Jamie, we both believe in this kid, and we both know he’s going to make growth and that he’s got so much potential, but do you really think you should be saying he’s smart?
Jamie: But he is smart! He can do………..
Me: I know! I know! I mean, don’t you think though that we should be honest and not give false hopes?
Jamie: You don’t think he’s smart?
Me: I think he’s……capable. I think we should say he’s capable, because he is, but telling parents he’s smart doesn’t seem ethical. His IQ is in the 70’s.
I cringe again to say I think I won that argument.
How dare I?? How DARE I tell a teacher who believes in her student that he isn’t smart. Who was I? Who was the psychologist? What is in ONE number given on ONE day, when a CHILD IS STILL DEVELOPING?
Oh I’m so mad at that Laura, and prouder than ever to have worked with that Jamie. So Jamie, you probably don’t read this, but if you’re out there, you are a DAMN good SPED teacher, and if your think your student is SMART in spite of a stupid cognitive test, then I hope you never listened to me and say it.
I desperately need a teacher like you right now. I desperately need to hear that someone else other than me and her grandparents think she is smart. I desperately want just ONE professional at some point at least see what I see. I don’t know why I need to hear it. I know in my heart she is not only capable but smart too, but to hear it, just the thought that maybe someday I will hear it……. is bringing tears to my eyes.
I always quote her, but it’s always appropriate.
My dad always said you have to be humbled to make growth. *gulp* For A, I take a bite of my humble pie.