An Unexpected Apology

I have a student who is on the spectrum for Autism. His transition to 4th grade was rough, but he has finally settled in and is doing well. Every now and then, though, he has a minor meltdown, but compared to those from the beginning of the school year, they are quite insignificant.

At least, in my eyes they are. Today, he clearly differed in his opinion of the mildness of the meltdown he had this morning. To my surprise, he handed me a note after lunch.

Dear Mrs. Isenbarger, I'm sorry for this morning. I'm disappointed in myself for doing such disruptive things. I hope you can forgive me for this incident. I'm really, really, REALLY sorry.

He was so concerned about his actions that, after he gave me the note, he asked, "Did I write enough 'sorries'?"

My heart melted at his concern that he make up for having disrupted us this morning. "Yes, you did," I replied. "It's a lovely note, and one I will always treasure."

He even accepted (and gave back) a hug, another indication of how badly he felt about his behavior.

He is being hard on himself for a relatively minor outburst; I am going to see what I can do to help lessen those feelings of guilt.

The Value of Conferencing

I love parent/teach conferences. Despite the fact that the preparation for them takes a lot of time (I was at school last Saturday until 7:30 PM) and that the week of conferences is a bear because you are meeting with families before and after school along with getting the usual teaching, grading, planning, and preparing done, they are valuable and worthwhile.

Mine usually go well, although sometimes I am nervous about one or two. But regardless of a child's struggles, there are always many good things to say, and those tougher things can be sandwiched between the positives.

One of my fourth graders is on the spectrum for Autism and has had a rough adjustment to the class. I've been working with the special ed teacher, the principal, the school counselor, and his parents as we try to smooth his transition into the 4/5 High Ability class. It's been nine weeks and while he is doing better, he still struggles.

His parents are wonderfully supportive, and have worked with me this fall as I try to get their son up to speed and to minimize his meltdowns. I've had to send them some emails with tough news and despite that, they continue to hear what I have to say instead of getting defensive, blaming me for his problems, etc.

Yesterday we met for an hour and a half for our conference. The principal, special ed teacher, and counselor also joined us and we had a lengthy but productive session brainstorming ideas to help this child find success at school.

Later that day, I got an email from his mother.

I was very pleased with the meeting. The school seems open to trying new things and we are working to find out what to do.  I think you are the key to much of the puzzle because you spend so much time with him.  I understand that he will take more reassurance and prep work than other kids.  But I want you to know that you are changing his life right now.  Other teachers, other schools may have given up trying so hard. 

Thank you again.  I'm sure that we will have lots of talks over the next weeks but I feel hopeful that we've turned a corner with him.

I, too, feel we have turned a corner with her son. And, that that over-long conference time will prove invaluable as we continue to work together in his behalf.

"I Have a Fear..."

I have a new student this year with profound challenges. He really wants to do what's right, but undergoes an intense daily struggle to remain in his seat, complete his assignments, and act appropriately.

At the start of the school year, he sat at his desk with his head buried in his arms, telling me he had no friends, that no one liked him, and that he just wanted to be left alone.

That scared, isolated boy now has friends who include him, and he even smiles occasionally. He offers comments in class discussions and most of the time acts in an appropriate way.

I am so, so proud of him. Just yesterday the Music teacher commented on how much his behavior has improved since last year, and today the P.E. teacher made similar remarks.

He's come leaps and bounds, but he still has miles to go, especially when it comes to assignment completion. His difficulties maintaining his focus result in many incomplete assignments despite time in class to work and several days in which to complete them. His mother reports that they have to sit with him at home for hours in order for him to remain focused enough to do his homework.

Last night must've been a difficult evening because today I received an angry and impassioned email from her about the homework situation. I still feel pretty bruised from her words.

Given some time, I think her son will improve (although I think his issues are bigger than what I can do as a teacher, and need intervention from a doctor or a psychologist.) But I don't think he is going to get that time - his mother told me that she will not allow things to continue and is considering removing him from my class.

Setting the email aside, I called her son over to my desk, asking him to bring the incomplete homework that had so frustrated his mother to me so that we could look at it together.

"Sounds like last night was a bit tough, huh?" I said as he arrived.

My student nodded solemnly.

"I don't know why I can't get it done," he confessed. (And I am sure that's the truth - he is a very honest young man.)

"I believe you," I replied. "Let me look at this work and see if I can figure out a way to help you. Don't worry, we'll get this problem figured out."

And that's when he said the words that have weighed heavily on me all day.

"I have a fear," he began.

I looked up from the papers I'd been studying and asked him what he meant.

"Well, I have this fear," he repeated.  "I am afraid because my mom says that, if I can't get my work done, then I have to leave your class."

And then he looked straight into my eyes.

"I don't want to leave," he said with heartfelt solemnity.

Oh, my. My heart shattered and I felt close to tears.

I had to choose my words carefully. I wanted to reassure him, but I did not want to make false promises.

"I don't want you to leave, either," I said. "We're going to see what we can do so you can be with us. Hang in there, and for now, don't worry about finishing this work that was due today.  It'll be okay - I'll figure something out."

The student turned and headed back to his desk while I absorbed the significance of what he had just told me. I sat for several long moments, thinking about it and wondering how on earth I could do any more to help him improve.

I can only pray that his mother will not make any hasty decisions based on frustrations from a busy Wednesday night.