Love Is in This Room: Memories of Teaching Special Kids

Contents

In Memory Of

Acknowledgments

Introduction

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

In Memory Of

Valerie Holladay

Acknowledgments

I would like to give credit to all the beautiful children that have touched my life. This book is a series of stories about some of my most memorable students and associates in education. The stories are all true. The dialogue is often correct as it was spoken. I did take some notes over the years so that I have some specific records of exactly what was said. In many cases the meaning and intent are accurate and the words are as I can most closely recall them. I have changed some names in order to protect those identities. Most of the adult’s names are changed, and some of the children’s. The decision on whether or not to change a name depended on the number of years that have passed since the event, and also the severity of the person’s individual problems. I had difficulty speaking of my young friends using a different name. Their names seem to be part of their personalities.

I must acknowledge the help that my personal faith has given me to continue working with children over the years. My belief in God and in His Son, Jesus Christ, have sustained me through many difficulties. I need to acknowledge that I prayerfully approached my assignments of teaching with a daily prayer that the Holy Spirit would influence me to give the needed attention to each child, and that I could lovingly and intelligently enlist my knowledge to correctly approach my method of teaching to best meet the needs of the special deficits that impaired my students. I hope that my influence on these lovely kids has been for the good. I do know that my relationships with them have proven enlightening, faith promoting, and personally fulfilling to me for many wonderful years.

I would like to give a special thanks to my dear niece, Natalie Scherlong, who stepped in at the last minute to be my new editor. She has been extremely helpful. My wonderful, past editor, Valerie Holladay, succumbed to cancer just a few months ago. She was still agreeing to assist me—even when she was quite ill.

I wish to acknowledge the support given to me by my family in writing this, and the encouragement of friends (particularly one dear friend who reminded me of all the readers that would wish to see my book). Also I wish to mention the patience of my family as I continued in the educational system for so long a tenure. I loved all of the children, most of the classified help, some of the fellow teachers, and a few of the administrators. I am still enjoying the companionship of students, as I volunteer at my old school instructing in creative writing. I hope that you, the reader, will enjoy my tales of very interesting and unforgettable children.

Introduction

How fortunate I was to teach school when I did. I began in the late-fifties and have just recently retired. I taught elementary school for about forty-five years, and the education system has dramatically changed in America. In the early history of public elementary schools there was a one room schoolhouse supported by the community. The teacher was the instructor, disciplinarian, custodian, and property manager. He/she needed to come early, build a fire if needed, maintain the cleanliness of the building, raise the level of education of his/her pupils, and be responsible for the behavior of the students in his/her care.

Jump ahead to the present and we see great differences, for better and for worse. The teacher now arrives to spend an hour in a planning meeting, is instructed on how to present each lesson, has a paraprofessional to mind the students during recess, before and after school, and during lunchtime. The teachers have become robots, teaching each lesson in the same manner and language—just like the other teacher down the hall. There is no creativity or initiative and the process is very cold and impersonal.

I had the best of times. We were given a course of study for the year, told what subjects and skills needed to be taught, and given a lesson plan book and access to a closet that had several cabinets with some materials. We were supposed to fill out the lesson plan weekly, although many teachers did not and were unmonitored.

We could schedule the amount of time we were spending on each subject, get what materials we wanted to use to supplement texts or for our own interest, and we were in total charge of teaching that particular grade level. As a new teacher, I did ask for advice from the more experienced teachers. Most of all the instruction for the children was more personal, more individualized, and we were more involved with the students.

After many years of experience and, I feel, success, I believe that the most important ingredient in being a good teacher is the ability to connect with the student. I had this connection with my students and the rewards were very great. I made close friendships with many students and have kept in touch with some well into their adult lives. Children know when you care. I feel it is very important that students know that their teacher cares about them, and really desires that they be able to learn. This personal connection was vital to me and I feel that in the current teaching atmosphere, caring has no place and is actually discouraged. Individuality and personal involvement of teacher/student is almost a thing of the past. We no longer have teachers, they are more accurately called facilitators, and the system is more like something one would expect in a third world country.

With the federal government so involved in education, and the growth of small school districts causing them to become large bureaucracies, the control of education is no longer local. The lack of local regional control has made for a lot of national movements from less than brilliant idealists in education. Someone somewhere decided that, to improve the teaching, the teachers need to have someone to observe and mentor them. This became a national movement. In my district the coaches, as they were called, were selected from the pets of the individual principals and /or higher administration officials. Many of those chosen were mentoring teachers far more qualified than themselves. In my school a counselor, who had never taught a classroom at all, became mentor to three very qualified fifth grade teachers with much more tenure than she, and the teachers were better at their jobs. The counselor had been less than effective at her own job, but was of a minority race and a favorite of the current principal. The year before I retired, I witnessed three different teachers brought to tears from the interviews with the coaches after their observations. These coaches were neither educationally qualified, nor held appropriate training to counsel with their peers. The coaching program is still in effect, for some eight years now, and is costing the school district a lot of money.

Another national movement, is to employ superintendents who have no background in education, but have a background in the business field. This might be valid for an assistant superintendent in order to assist with monetary concerns of the district, but I have seen dire consequences from decisions made by some of these business experienced executives. One superintendent came through our school on a walk through. This was another ill advised innovation for the district. A walk through consisted of a group of administrators, a school board member, and a parent all descending upon a classroom in session, and afterward meeting to discuss what they had observed. The school holding the walk through was in a semi lock down. No one was to use the conference or media instruction rooms during that time. Large amounts of fancy treats were obtained from the central cafeteria department. All the faculty were on their toes. One teacher had stayed until eight P.M. the prior evening getting her room ready for the ominous walk through. She was plastering her wall with posters of information about writing procedures, math instructions, word walls (another innovation from the district involving lists of words for a unit of instruction), and other paraphernalia. The principal held a faculty meeting before school began on the walk through day. She had all of the teachers walk down to the classroom, that was so nicely prepared, and observe what a wonderful sight the visitors were going to see. The principal made the mistake of directing her question to me. Well, what do you think? I felt physically attacked by all the visual stimuli, and responded that my children (I was teaching highly distract-able learning disabled students) would react as I felt. I covered my head for protection and said that it was overwhelming and had too much stuff. I felt it looked as if the teacher had put up various posters for instruction starting in the fall and had never removed anything all year. The principal was upset at my response and made no further comments. The others seemed uncomfortable and excused themselves to go to work.

The truth about the very busy classrooms was that the teachers were all told to cover their surfaces with instructional information. The windows were covered as were the the heating vents, the doors, and most surfaces in the class rooms. Two of the first grade teachers complained to me (one had to be careful about to whom complaints were made!) that they felt impeded in their instruction. They said that the classrooms felt too busy and had too much clutter. We all discussed how we should call the fire department and ask them to intervene. Those same two first grade teachers were gone the following year to a more reasonable and smaller school district.

Well, the impressive visitors came for the morning, and the superintendent stuck his head in the room across from mine. The fourth grade teacher there had just ten minutes between her students’ return from music class and their scheduled lunch period. She wisely thought to use those few minutes to have the students practice their multiplication tables. She handed out sheets for a quick drill. WRONG. The superintendent went directly to the principals’ office, demanded that the fourth grade teacher have a comment on her evaluation suggesting that she improve her instruction. His concern was, "We do not practice in school. School is for instruction". One would wonder if he understood the sequence of learning.

This is one example of a business executive running an educational institution. These folks do not have any background in educational processes, or learning theories. This same superintendent gave strong reprimands to the kindergarten teachers for teaching the alphabet song. His edict was that we should not teach the letters in order. One would also wonder when the children would learn that, or would they grow up and have to have their computers alphabetize for them? This same educational leader proclaimed that "All students must have one year growth for one year in the program. I did ask my supervisor, What happened to the old ‘Bell Curve’ that explained intelligence levels? I suppose the students in the life skills (severely retarded) program should progress at the same level as those in the gifted and talented programs. This is truly a lock-step approach to education. Other mistakes were; the whole language program, which pulled out language as a separate area of instruction, and removed all language instruction texts from the classrooms (one copy left in the library for teacher reference), removal of grade level spelling lists from the district, new innovative readers that were not leveled for reading ability, use of trade books" for reading instruction, use of journals only, for language instruction, and finally the removal of the teaching of cursive writing.

This superintendent had a rather short tenure and was followed by one whose background was in the military. Things are not much better, although the spelling lists are back.

I have been retired for a few years and continue to teach literature to a selected group of advanced students as a volunteer project, and I see some of the problems becoming more obvious. The students are less advanced academically, have poor spelling skills, have an inability to read or write cursive, have poor written and oral language skills, and exhibit excessive discipline problems. I am particularly concerned about the lack of personal interaction with students and teachers. I also am concerned that teachers no longer have the students say the Pledge of Allegiance at the start of the day. In addition, there are no longer American flags in each classroom.

I guess that I retired at a good time. I miss regular teaching, but it has changed so that I would have much difficulty adjusting to these new expectations. This last year I taught cursive writing to my fourth and fifth grade students to whom I gave my volunteer time. We do need smaller school districts, more local control, and escape from federal innovations. It now seems almost impossible to reverse some of the damage to education.

I am writing my book as a tribute to the old values in education, and to my beloved students who made my experience so wonderful. A short explanation for the title of my book is this little story:

I was teaching a learning disabled child in a hallway closet that had a table, several chairs, and a portable chalkboard. The principal called me to an important phone call. I told the little girl to complete her paper and I should return shortly. If I did not come back before the bell rang (indicating a change in classes) she should go on back to her classroom. The bell rang. I returned to the empty room and found this sweet note on the chalkboard. Love is in this room, because Mrs Lancer is in this room. I was inspired by this for the rest of my career and it still pleases me to remember it to this day.

I hope you will enjoy the stories of the many children for whom I have great love.

There was an old woman who taught in the schools,

She had many poor children who’d not follow rules.

She helped them to learn and deal with their dread.

Some had been spanked soundly, but she loved them instead.

Chapter One

Gentler Times

When I first started teaching, teaching itself was a surprise to me. I had not planned on teaching and disliked any and all education classes that I had taken at the university. I was an art major and wished to be a famous painter or sculptor. Educational classes were to be of assistance if ever I needed to make a hard living.

There were four of us close friends in college, all working our way through a state university some fifty miles away from our home. During the summer we needed to find employment in the city where we lived, in order to earn money again for the fall session. Sally was the one who would pay to go to the employment office and find where the companies were that were hiring. She would call the other three of us and let us know where she had obtained work. We would then go where Sally was and also apply for work. This was somewhat unfair to the employment agencies, but saved poor students from paying additional employment fees. We, of course, needed to pretend not to know one another—especially Sally—until we had been working together for a while. We shared numerous jobs at a phone company, a credit bureau, a bank, and a transportation company, all during the summers we were in college.

After graduation, Sally, who had trained as a teacher, had gotten a contract with a local school district and began teaching grade four in an elementary school. I was unhappily working at a title guaranty company and learning how to do house closings. She phoned me to let me know that they were in great need of new teachers in her school. They were adding an addition on to the building and a position would be available very soon. I had all the required college courses, but had not taken student teaching. The school district arranged with the state university to have me take student teaching at Sally’s school while working with the first grade teachers there. I was so lucky as I was paid from the time I started working there, and I was also getting credit for student teaching. The education professor from the university drove to my city to observe me working, and I received my student teaching credit. I spent six weeks with one excellent teacher, and another six weeks with a real witch. Afterward, I was given my own first grade class.

The witch was one of those duplicitous teachers we all remember from our childhood or children’s horror movie. She had managed to make herself the darling of the P.T.A., and everyone thought she was a fine, experienced teacher. She surely was experienced in manipulating people’s opinion and being so seemingly fond of children. I did not know how very bad she was until I took a third grade class the following year. My students, who had been in her first grade class, told me horror stories about how she handled discipline in their class. Mrs. C., a tiny lady with large breasts and who always teetered on high heel shoes, had the habit of putting incorrigible first graders into her teachers closet. In this school, and in those days, the teachers had a built-in closet that was quite large. Now we have only tiny cupboard spaces to hold only a coat and purse, and it needs to have a lock. These new closets would not even hold a first grader. Mrs. C. would also put bad children under her desk, a rather small place next to her high heels and angry feet. The children did not like her much and even feared her. But the mothers that were active in the rather small P.T.A. could be assured that their children received better treatment.

One day, while my third graders were at P.E. class, I walked passed Mrs. C. standing right outside her classroom door, her back flat against the wall. I smiled and asked what she was doing. Her index finger went to her lips as she said, Shh, they don’t know I’m out here. I’m checking to see how they behave when I am not in the room. I asked if she didn’t think they were aware of her being there. She thought they did not. The truth was that when Mrs. C. was out of the building, with illness, conferences, and such, these kids were difficult for the substitute teacher. I’m certain that they knew she was waiting to pounce on them suddenly, catching them at whatever kids can find to do. In preparation for a back to school night Mrs. C. had her students draw an outline of themselves, their total body, and then color it in to look like themselves. It was not great art. Probably the only resemblance to the student was the color and length of hair and the eye colors. These were drawn on large butcher paper that all schools had on large rolls. These paper puppets were set in an upright position (a stick glued along the torso) in each child’s chair. I could not help thinking that there was not much difference between the paper children and the subdued and overly controlled students, who sat obediently in those same chairs, with about the same amount of movement, as when Mrs. C. was there in charge. For years, I always told everyone that I kept teaching each year so that at least thirty children would not have a Mrs. C.

Teaching was very gratifying, much to my surprise. I had thought from the college preparation that it would be very trying and quite boring. What a great mistake! Teaching was interesting; new children each year, and every day was so entertaining. I loved working with the kids. I taught first grade one year and then grade three for two years in this wonderful district. I am so sorry that new teachers coming in will not have the great experiences that I had, as the times and techniques have changed so that teachers are not allowed to be creative or personable with their students. Here are some of my early encounters with great kids.

Interviews

My first year of teaching I had an adorable little boy, Doug. He was bright and learned easily. He was all boy, never a bully, but respected by all his first grade classmates. He was muscular and very athletic, along with being good academically. Doug was also quite physically attractive. He had curly light brown hair that he tossed with dramatic head flicks, and he walked with a rather adult swagger. The classmates all were impressed with Doug. In those early days teachers had to be on the playground at lunch and recess. We had no aides or paras. Whenever it was my turn outside, Doug always walked with me. He talked a lot about his dad and never mentioned his mother. One day he began complaining about his dad. I don’t know why my dad never remarried, other guys do. I was unaware that he was without his mother. I did not ask him about what had happened to her, believing he would provide that information if and when he wished. I did start paying more attention to him as I thought he was deprived of motherly concern. He continued talking to me about his dad and praising him in all areas. He asked if I had children, at this time I did not. Parent teacher conferences were coming and I was interested in meeting Doug’s father and finding out more information. Doug gave the impression that he was interviewing for a new mother. I had told him I was married, but he continued his discussions about how he was so sorry his dad never married and how nice I was. On the night of conferences Doug’s dad and his mother showed up to discuss Doug. My little friend seemed very uncomfortable and embarrassed. The next day I asked him why