When I began my teaching career in 1971, I taught elementary general music. It was a perfect match for a new teacher. My teaching assignment covered seven elementary schools where I taught kindergarten through second grade general music. My other two colleagues and I became the musical answer to team teaching, covering instruction from grades kindergarten through sixth. Just an aside: we directed 16 holiday programs in those seven schools for the month of December. The words “Merry Christmas” lost their luster by the fifth concert! A year later, the team teaching idea for music disappeared. It was great on paper but a disaster in reality. A few decades later the words Merry Christmas seemed to disappear as well.
The following is an excerpt from RESCUE THE TEACHER, SAVE THE CHILD!
Glass and Ceiling
With all my university training and so-called savvy, nothing prepared me for my encounter with Maryann. The morning dawned with a warm, basking in the sun of an open window kind of day. Maryann was not unlike every other exuberant second grader. Music was her last class of the day, so she grew excited to escape at 3:00 pm. The bell rang thus propelling Maryann towards the door, as she plowed through her classmates with the fervor of a charging bull! Gently calling her name, I asked her to come back into the room and go out the door again in a more appropriate manner. Maryann’s demeanor indicated she wanted nothing to do with that request. I used my assertive voice and boldly stated she needed to come back and go through the door again. Belligerently, she turned toward me, stomped back into the classroom and proceeded to deliver an all-out, on the floor, temper tantrum. Screaming with flailing arms, Maryann attempted to grab her face. At that moment, one of her classmates screamed, “Look out! Maryann’s gonna throw her glass eye at the ceiling!” Yes, you read correctly. When I looked up, another child anxiously whispered “Maryann has a glass eye and she throws it when she gets mad.” Maryann’s temper tantrums and glass eye were news to me! In my divine classroom management style, I went to the ground, immobilized her arms with my hands so Maryann could not grab at the artificial eye. It was a scene from a sitcom, one which even Abbot Elementary (a popular current television series), could not adequately create. I can still see it now. A second grader wailing on the floor, me on top of her, pinning her arms down while children readied themselves to catch the glass eye should it become a projectile ascending towards the ceiling. Then in a flash, two large brown shoes appeared to my right. I slowly followed the pant legs up to a bespectacled man. My principal stood above me, looking down with an expression of confusion. Let me rephrase that. I’m sure my principal wondered why he ever hired me as I sprawled on the floor, atop a child! He whispered, “Thank you Mrs. Baack. I will take if from here.”
Teachable Moment: As an itinerant support staff, I was seldom notified about physical, mental or emotional conditions of my students. Always check with your counselors and special education staff to make sure you received all information available on any student who may have issues in your classroom. Most academic teachers received a file on their special needs students. But performing, fine arts and elective teachers usually did not. Right to Privacy is the law but it never should be used to hide a student’s debilitating behavior which could negatively affect both the teacher’s and the students’ safety. As a classroom teacher, making sure my students knew how the learning environment might change with special needs children was so important. So I set out to change the culture of “no information needed” regarding special needs kids in my classroom.
I asked the special education department if they could come into my classroom and share with my students their expectations for the special needs students placed in our program. It became a semester ritual, on the day before special needs kids would arrive to our classroom. My classes would sit in a circle. This helped them to see how their peers were handling the information. The special education staff would visit with my class and answer any and all questions about the students who would soon join us. There was no question barred. Students asked things like:
Can the students speak?
What should the class do if a student is disruptive?
Could any students get angry and hit people?
Can the students actually participate?
The answers were different for each special needs student:
Down Syndrome kids are usually very social and love to participate. At times even loudly!
Severely autistic kids probably would not be able to participate and needed guidance by a para assigned specifically to the child. These children, seemingly cocooned from society, were always welcomed in our classrooms.
Students who needed behavioral management usually were the rock stars in choir.
Our students on the higher spectrum of autism were able to participate to a degree. Sometimes the greatest surprises in my career came from these students.
Join me soon as I share about one of the most incredible experiences in my 46 years of teaching: The Divine Miss Kay. You can’t make this up!
And speaking of “teachable moments”, my book RESCUE THE TEACHER, SAVE THE CHILD! (Amazon/Barnes & Noble) is laced with them!
Order your copy today. Winner of the 2020 Topshelf and 2022 Maincrest Media non-fiction book awards.
REVIEW FROM AMAZON: I liked the honesty and transparency of the author. She has a heart for teachers and students alike and is trying to help through revealing her unfortunate circumstances.